Page 107 of Cages and Crowns
My eyes open to a darkened room. A few candles are lit, casting a faintglow across the pale wood. Windows are open, letting a nice breeze in. I am laying on something soft and warm. I flex my fingers and feel the fur slip between them. I glance around the bedroom, looking for Nithe, but he isn’t there. My hand finds my stomach and the small swell sitting there. I sit up, my hand still holding my belly.
Noise from the bathing room causes me to jump. My heart races and I frantically look for a weapon but come up empty. I clamor off the bed and run to the open dressing room, hiding in the darkness. I hold my breath as I wait, panic overtaking my senses.
After what seems like forever, the door opens, and I run at whoever it is. My arms go around their neck and I try to yank them back, but they are too strong. I’m flipped over their head, my back headed towards the ground, when I catch Nithe’s eyes. They widen and he twists midair throwing himself under me. I land on top of him with a thud, my head slamming into his chest. I gasp as the wind is knocked out of me.
“Gods!” He yells as we both catch our breath. Once my breath has finally stabilized, I lift my head slowly. A smirk is plastered to his face, revealing a dimple.
“I prefer all greetings to end like this, little witch.” I glance down and see my thighs on either side of his, my nightgown bunched to my hips, exposing my undergarments. I sit back, attempting to climb off of him when he sits up, grasping my backside and flipping us over. My back ends up on the rug, his lower body nestled between my legs.
Hardness meets softness and I fight the urge to arch my back. I glare at him, fighting the arousal pooling in my belly.
“Get off of me.” I push on his chest, and he grabs both wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head.
“You attacked me, little witch. I was just defending myself.” He leans down, his nose almost touching mine. The minty scent of toothpaste mixes with the citrusy scent of him and I breathe deeply. “What were you going to do if it wasn’t me?”
“Kill you.”
“I highly doubt that.” I roll my eyes and tilt my head, exposing a bit of my neck. His eyes trace the line of my jaw down my neck and to my collarbone. “Your nightdress isn’t very queenly.” He muses.
“I’m not the one who put me in it.” I retort.
“That would be Scarlett.”
“Of course it was.” He adjusts, settling in deeper against me and I bite my lip. He doesn’t miss the movement. What is wrong with me? “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Like I can’t breathe because I have 200 pounds of wyvos on me.”
“I can make it 2000 pounds if you want.” He quips with a lopsided grin.
“Idon’twant.”
“What about—”
“Don’t finish that thought.” I whisper.
“You want me to get off? Make me.” He threatens, leaning close.
“I can’t, you’re too heavy.”
“You can.”
“I am ill.” I pout.
“No you aren’t, you’re pregnant.” He rolls his eyes and I glare at him.
“Same thing.”
“No it isn’t, now make me get off of you.” I pull at the hand holding onto my wrists and he relents. I push on his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His hand slides down from my shoulder and I shudder as his thumb brushes my ribs. I kick my foot at his thigh, and he shifts slightly, pressing further into me. His hand travels from my ribs to my hip. I slap his arm away and he holds it out for a second before starting at my shoulder again.
I squirm under him, sliding my body down, but all that does is rub the apex of my thighs against him. Damnit. His eyes heat as he stares down at me, and I suddenly question why I am fighting him. Fighting this.
This doesn’t have to be serious. This could be something fun, somethingI control. I think he senses my change of thought as his hand stills. His body freezes as his eyes lock onto mine. A shallow breath escapes my lips, following another shudder.
“Elaenor…” He whispers. My head tilts back so I can look at him fully. His eyes search mine before his hand slips from my hip to my knee, holding my leg against him.
“Nithe.” I say breathlessly. I can hear his heart racing in tune with mine as we lay in silence. He presses his hips harder against me and I arch my back as a tingling hits my core.
“Don’t fuck with me.” My lips part to speak and he takes it as his opportunity. His lips crash into mine, his tongue curling into my mouth. My hands find his chest and fist his tunic. He leans back, taking me with him, so I am sitting on his lap. His hands cup my backside as I wrap my arms around his neck. His kiss is like a drug, one I could get lost in. His hands slide up from my back to my hair, pulling my head back. His lips break from mine as they trail down my jaw and to my neck. I arch my back as he nips at my shoulder. His teeth pull at the thin strap of the nightgown, letting it fall down my shoulder.
