Page 76 of Crown of Iron
“We still have a couple more hours until the palace staff makes their rounds, and I told you I would happily oblige taking you to my room. And…”
I lift a brow. “And?”
“I hate to see it end as well.” He turns the handle and swings his door open. He tilts his head toward the inside of the room. “Stay for just a little while.”
I don't need to weigh my options. I know what I want. This has been one of the best nights of my life. There were no expectations of me or people watching my every move. It was just me and Kyron being ourselves andenjoying each other's company. I can't pass up the chance for a few more stolen seconds.
“Just for a bit,” I say, stepping inside.
His cozy room reminds me of a lavish version of my quarters at Basecamp, with rich dark woods and plush furnishings. Journals and papers litter the round breakfast table, outfitted with two black and red striped upholstered chairs, and a fire crackles inside the hearth in the corner. The bed is just enough space for him to roll to his side and a fluffy ivory and scarlet blanket adorns the top.
He takes off his jacket and places it on the coat rack by the door. “Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to remove the glass from my eyes.”
He disappears into the washroom, and I sit on the edge of the bed and remove my shoes. The damn things started acting like torture devices hours ago, but I wasn't about to return to the palace until it was time. After rubbing my aching feet, I reach for the pins in my hair and sigh as the waves cascade over my shoulders. I lay back on the mattress and close my eyes, scratching my scalp. I didn’t think anything could top tonight, but this bed feels like heaven after hours of dancing and walking.
The washroom door opens, Kyron steps out, and I bolt upright. He's slicked his hair back from his face, untied the laces of his black tunic, and his leather pants sit low on his hips. As sexy as all that is, it's his eyes that truly capture my attention. They’re a smoldering sunset backed by the night sky.
His bare feet pat against the wooden floor and the mattress shifts under his weight. He lays back and gently tugs on a strand of my hair until we’re side by side.
As we stare at the beams across the ceiling, I quietly confess, “There’s only a day left before you leave and just the thought of it makes me miss you already.”
“Does it help to know I'll miss you, too?”
We turn our heads, placing us nose to nose. I search his eyes for any sign he feels obligated to return my sentiment, but I only find the truth. “Yes, it does help,” I quietly say.
He runs the pad of his thumb over my lips. “If I could take you away from all this, I would. I'd be the selfish asshole who keeps you for myself, knowing you’re made for something greater.”
I raise onto my elbow and push the hair away from his face. “I'd letyou.”
His eyes flutter closed, and I kiss them, and the top of his nose, and his cheeks, and his lips. I savor the sweet and spicy taste of him. His tongue sweeps over mine, and I press my body closer. My entire being aches to feel every inch of me touching every inch of him.
His hand follows the valley of my waist, and his fingers slide under the hem of my jacket. He clings to me, pulling me to him, and I slip my leg over his lower torso, straddling him. His firm cock meets my center, pressing against the place I ache for him the most. I roll my hips over his, and the satin of my pants glides over the leather of his, creating a sensation that is next to sinful.
I love how my body cradles him. His hips between my thighs, the curve of my waist a resting place for his palm, and my lips a warm home for his. Our bodies move as one, sliding and grinding against the other. The friction we create intensifies with each roll of our hips. I chase that feeling until I need more.
Moving my hands under his tunic, I lift the fabric and reveal the soft, flawed skin underneath. “Will you take this off?” I ask, pushing the material higher.
He pulls his shirt over his head, and I place a kiss to the center of his chest. I run my lips over every scar and the tattoo down the side of his torso, taking my time to taste his skin. Drawing from my experience with my own body, I move to his pecs. With my eyes on him, I nip the firm skin in the center. He hisses and lifts his pelvis from the mattress.
Feeling and seeing him react to me sends a surge of desire through my body. My center aches for his touch, and my skin rises with goosebumps at the thought of pressing against his. I sit up and work loose the fine buttons of my jacket. A smile pulls at my lips when Kyron's fingers join mine, working from the bottom. The fabric parts, and he guides it down my shoulders, revealing a lacy undergarment that leaves nothing to the imagination.
He wraps his hands around my ribcage and brushes his thumbs over the sensitive peaks of my breasts. He touches me like I'm something delicate and precious, and it drives me out of my mind. I remove my camisole and press my chest to his. His skin is warm, and the hard muscles of his chest are a delicious contrast to my soft curves.
I could remain content with my skin upon his, but he trails his fingers down my spine and kisses my neck. His breath is warm against the shell ofmy ear when he whispers, “You feel so good.”
My happiness fans into something intense, a desire for a heat that could melt the sun. My hips roll over his, and I kiss his chest, slipping my tongue through my lips and dragging it up his sternum to the hollow of his neck. He’s smoke, spice, and salt—a new delicacy I crave.
It is a task to move my mouth from him to say, “I want to make you?—”
He captures my lips with his, and his palms slide under the back of my pants, his fingertips sinking into the swell of my ass. The passion in his kiss stokes the flames hotter and hotter until they ache at my core.
I slide trembling hands between us and pull the leather string of his trousers.
“You don't have to do that. This feels good,” he whispers, lifting his hips and pressing me down to him.
“I want to touch you. Don't you want my hands on you?”
“Fuck, yes,” he hisses as my fingers slide beneath the leather and wrap around him.
