Page 60 of King Among the Dead

Kay snorted. “Yeah, good thing.”

Rose fought not to smile.

~*~

Rose dreamed of the pie safe, its confines stifling and dark, reeking of damp and mildew. She panted, trying unsuccessfully to regulate her breathing. Tabitha had warned her about that once, cracking her ugly laugh, had said that if she breathed too fast she’d use up all the oxygen and suffocate in there. That hadn’t been true at all, because it wasn’t airtight, but the mind had a way of rejected logic in moments like those.

But then the doors swung open, and a warm tide of blood swirled in around her; lifted her, carried her out into a moonlit night studded with stars – the heavens split with a jagged white scar.

The Rift. She knew that’s what she was seeing, and it didn’t look like it did in old photographs. It looked alive, pulsing brighter and brighter, in the rhythm of a heartbeat. A rhythm she could feel rippling through the blood around her, steady and relentless.

Hands closed over her arms from behind, and she knew they were Beck’s; knew it was his heat and weight that pressed up against her back; his breath against her throat.

She stared up at the Rift, and fell back against him, and fell, and fell, and fell…

She woke, and was on her side, in Beck’s bed, and his weight and heat really were pressing up behind her. The rhythm she’d felt in the dream was his; he ground lightly, absently against her ass, his cock hard, but his movements unhurried. His arm lay across her waist, and his hand massaged her breast, through the cotton of the tank top she wore.

She smiled into the dark. “Are you awake?”

“A little bit.” His voice was drowsy, but very much awake. “I was dreaming.”

She covered the back of his hand with hers, urging him to grip her more firmly. He worked his thumb back and forth over her nipple until it pebbled, and she shivered. “So was I.”

“About roses?”

“About blood.”

He stilled. Pushed up on one arm so he was above her.

Rose turned her head on the pillow so she could look up at him. It was raining, and the light that filtered through the curtain gaps was manufactured, and blue-tinted. A raindrop slithered down the window pane, and its shadow tracked down his face, a silent, black tear. She could see the wet glimmer of his eyes, and his parted lips; flash of his tongue as he wet them.

His hair swung forward, as he leaned down, a curtain that sealed them in together. The immediate aggression of his kiss told her he’d been awake for a while, thinking of this, wanting it. His hips shifted, the hard line of his cock giving further evidence.

He explored her mouth for long moments, shaping her lips with his, plunging deep with his tongue. He pulled down the strap of her tank top with his free hand, bared her breast and cupped it in sure fingers. Plucked at her nipple until it ached, and she shifted restless beneath him.

Then he drew back and said, “Turn over.”

A hot flare of excitement licked through her, and she rolled over, getting up on her hands and knees.

He skimmed her shorts and panties down before she was even fully settled, exposing delicate skin to the chill of open air. She shivered – and then shivered again when he put his hands on her. Petted her thighs, and her bottom, and the small of her back. Undemanding touches that had her burning for more. He trailed a thumb down the cleft of her ass, down, until he reached her sex, already damp, already throbbing in time with her pulse as blood rushed to the place where she wanted him most.

He teased her folds a moment, humming to himself, considering, and she could feel the wetness gathering, building. His other hand was at her hip, and slid forward, skimming over her belly, through her curls, until he found her clit. He teased it, and pressed a single finger inside her.

That first breach, coupled with the gentle circling of one fingertip at her clit, sent a spasm of sharp pleasure through her. Her arms shook, and threatened to buckle. She sucked in a breath, and pushed back against him, seeking more.

His next hum was satisfied, and the sheets rustled as he moved in closer. He added a second finger and began to thrust, the fingers of his other hand applying firmer pressure.

“Oh,” she murmured, dropping her head down between weak arms. Her hips moved in helpless little thrusts, until she was rocking on his fingers, taking them all the way to the knuckles.

She felt his breath fanning warm and humid against the small of her back, and then the damp velvet of his lips. He kissed the twin dimples there. Dropped a trail of kisses down the curve of her ass. Bit lightly; teeth scraping.

Rose let out a sharp breath and felt herself spiraling fast and hard. He brought her to orgasm like that, with his fingers buried deep, and a thumb teasing her clit, sucking a bruise on the swell of her ass.

Her arms did give out, then. She collapsed face-first into the pillow, the room spinning pleasantly, starbursts exploding behind her closed eyelids as she clenched, and pulsed, and shuddered.

He worked her through it, finally withdrawing his fingers when her spasms slowed. “Oh, that was lovely,” he breathed, palms gliding over her skin, one slippery with her juices. She gotsowet for him. It would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t still murmuring praise, massaging the flickering muscles of her back.

He trailed kisses up her spine, curving his body over hers, and then she felt the press of his cock at her entrance. He slid home on one long, slow stroke, filling her, sending more sparks dancing along the nerves in every limb. She was so sensitive it nearly hurt, but the stretch was so much better than his fingers had been.

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