Page 141 of A Queen's Game
“No,” she said, looking up with a smile. “These will do. I’ll start withHonorable Intentions. It reminds me of you.” She held up the book so he could see the cover.
Keyain tilted his head down as if to hide his bashful smile, and his eyes glanced at her. “And do you want to think of me while reading smut?”
It was an honest enough question, but her cheeks warmed and her center heated at the thought, both of which surprised her. “I mean,” she said, shrugging, “we do have that history.”
“We have a lot of history in that regard.” His gaze darkened as he took in the nightgown she had changed into, the low cut of silk and lace. He swallowed hard and turned away.
Could she go down that path? After everything, could she be intimate with Keyain? It would further their plans, their goals. If it built Keyain up higher, it meant he had farther to fall. With asteadying breath, she set the books to the side, looking at Keyain. “I heard history repeats itself.”
“It does.” He turned back to her, but he didn’t seem to breathe.
He was waiting for her to invite, for her to initiate. “Then maybe let’s repeat it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, approaching the edge of the bed.
“Who is this Keyain who asks when I’m sure after inviting you into bed?” she said, smirking. “Yes, I’m sure.” But truly, she wasn’t.
Keyain pulled his shirt off over his head, ignoring the buttons that strained over his shoulders. If anything, at least she found himphysicallyattractive. It made the whole ordeal easier.
Careful of her ankle, Keyain got onto the bed, muscular arms flanking her as he lowered himself with a kiss. He grabbed the hem of her nightgown and tossed it to the floor. To feel him so close, a familiar stranger, made her stomach churn. And when his fingers rose up the inside of her thighs, she forced herself to still, to not pull away.
At least they were gentle, soft. Like the King’s hands on her ankle. Marietta jerked away from Keyain with that thought—at the heat that flared in her. Gods, why did she think of the King?
“Did I hurt you?” Keyain looked down at her with furrowed brows.
“No,” she said, pulling him back to her face. “Just tickled, that’s all.”
She brought his mouth to hers before he could answer. Keyain’s hands crept higher, brushing against the outside of her center. His mouth traveled from her lips to her neck. When he ventured lower, his teeth biting her breast, she moaned with an arch of her back.
Keyain moaned into her skin. “Can I go further?”
“Yes,” she said, breathless, as she shifted her hips with the movement of his hand. And when he entered her, she moaned again.
His mouth moved to her other breast, and he laughed while filling his mouth. He bit again and Marietta arched into him.
“Fuck,” she cried out, wanting more.
“Such a filthy mouth.”
Marietta paused, taken back at the exact words the King told her just earlier that day.
“Perhaps I should make my mouth just as dirty.” His kisses trailed down her stomach.
Deities damn her. Why did King Wyltam keep coming to mind? Sure, he had a handsome face and a wonderfully deep voice, but he was the enemy, wasn’t he?
Gods, so was Keyain.
“Mar,” he said, lifting his face from her and drawing her attention. “We can stop if you changed your mind.”
Perhaps she should. It was one thing to fuck Keyain, something she’s done numerous of times. It was another to think of a different person while with him. But she could block it out; she could go through with this. “Don’t stop,” she said, pushing his head lower.
His smile was sinister as he buried his face between her legs, his lips kissing against her with such fervor that she nearly melted then. With a flick of his teasing tongue, he put his whole mouth against her most sensitive spot, sucking.
Marietta’s thighs squeezed against his head as he continued, his fingers plunging in and out of her. After all that time, he remembered exactly how she liked it. Keyain withdrew his fingers, both hands pinning her legs to the bed. Gods, he remembered everything, even as his grip tightened on her thighs, as his mouth explored, his tongue teasing against her. She cried out, savoring the touch, so familiar to the last timethey were intimate that it wasn’t hard to imagine it was the old Keyain, especially as she kept her eyes clenched shut.
His grip slipped from her thighs to her hips, pulling her closer to his face as her breaths quickened, her core tightening with the nearing release. Keyain must have sensed it as well, for his fingers found their way back inside her. The movement of his fingers and the stroke of his tongue built her tension, snapping it as Marietta crested. Her center pooled from Keyain as she melted into his tongue, her limbs numbing with waves of pleasure.
“Fuck, Marietta,” he groaned, his fingers teasing against her.
