Page 48 of Feral Guardian
Alastair relaxes a measure, as the opening to this joke seems innocuous.
“She laughs and says, ‘Pray to Morgha for stiffness. I’ll guide it in.’”
“Princess,” Alastair growls and I giggle. “That wasn’t even very good.”
I shrug. “Fine, I’ll try another.”
“Please, do not,” he says severely.
“A man walks into the library and asks the archivist, ‘Do you have a book on small penises?’ The archivist replies, ‘I’m not sure if it’s in yet.’ The man smiles and says, ‘Yes, that’s the one!’”
“Why must you tell these indecent jokes?”
“Because I’m a little imp.” I leer. “Life is like a penis—”
“Lilianna,” Alastair practically snarls.
“Often hard for no reason,” I finish with a bright grin.
He sighs. “I don’t believe you actually like being this crude, and you only do it to get a rise out of me.”
Oh, he walked right into this one with his pants down.
“Is anythingrisingyet?” I ask, then bite my lip to keep from smiling.
His predatory gaze locks on me as he stands, the water coming only to his waist. His stomach is toned from years of combat and training, and the delicious V of his hips points directly to—
Don’t look at his cock.
Do not.
I pull my arms off the rocks and tuck in on myself, the grin evaporating from my face. Heat that has nothing to do with the water around me grows between my thighs. I suck in a shaky breath. Alastair stops only inches from me, and my gaze is at hip height. I turn my head up to look at his eyes because, gods, I want to look at his cock.
“Would you even know what to do with it, if somethingwasrising?” he asks.
No…
“Yes, of—of course I do,” I sputter.
“Really?” He smirks and braces his hands on the rocks beside my head. His voice is a deep rumble that awakens the need at the apex of my thighs. “Tell me what you know, princess.”
Eyzanth, subdue me.
I whisper something incoherent. I have no idea what’s even coming out of my mouth.
“How do you like it, princess?” he asks, leaning down until his braids tickle my cheeks. “When I’m being a very”—he moves closer still—“naughty guard?”
“I like it a lot,” my mouth regurgitates faster than I can stop it.
His eyes glint with red, and for a flash, I think he might kiss me. Gods, how I crave it. I would give anything to feel his fevered passion.
Alastair pulls away, his face becoming a stoic mask. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
I swallow to wet my arid throat and the nerves in my stomach riot. “I know. It was stupid. Just a stupid thing I accidentally said.”
He grunts and turns away. Four pink scars adorn his back from his right shoulder to the top of his glutes. I find myself staring at the thick, round, mass of his beautiful—
“I’m going to set camp for us,” he says and my eyes dart back up to his face. “If you have any magic left, we can make a few comforts for you.”
