Page 74 of The Princesses of Ruin
His lips graze my cold cheek in a soft kiss. “That’s my good girl.”
The acceptance warms me from the inside out, and I find myself melting in his hold.
“Once more, please. With more confidence this time,” he says.
I turn until our lips are nearly touching. “I am enough as I am.”
He takes me in with a shuddering breath. “I’m going to let you do whatever you want.”
“I just want to hear you moan my name,” I murmur, sealing the wish with a kiss.
He groans, moving his tongue against mine with slow, deliberate strokes. He’s showing me what he can do, enticing me to let him do it again.
I break the kiss. “I didn’t get to hear it last night with my pussy clamped against your mouth, and that’s all I want now.”
“We need to get back to the tent.”
“Before you have two loads of cum in your underpants?” I tease.
He grunts. “You could tell, then?”
“It was deliciously obvious,” I say, kissing him again.
“Tent. Now.”
We’re not far, and it doesn’t take us long without stopping to chatter. The energy between us is palpable—the very air we exhale is charged with desire. I’m going to ride this little alchemist until his balls are empty.
Then, maybe, I’ll let him ride me.
He reaches for the tent flap when he notices the blood on his arm and curses. “I’ve forgotten to cover our scent.”
I lick my lips, loving the idea of postponing this and making the need even greater.
“You better go do that, then. I’ll set some snares for dinner.”
His brow furrows and he pouts.
Fucking. Pouts.
Gods, I want to suck his dick.
“It would be terribly inconvenient if something snuck up on us with my mouth around your cock,” I say, rubbing his groin through the many layers.
He responds, thrusting his hips into my touch with a needy groan.
“Yebat.” He whispers the curse. “I’ll set protection runes around camp as well.”
Is he trying to outdo me? To see who can outlast the other?
“Yes, and maybe we should consider going to sleep early, get a good start on the day tomorrow.”
He huffs out a pleasurable sound as he rocks his hips into my steady palm. “Perhaps we should even wait until…” He groans again. “Emillia.”
A zing of lust fires down my spine to the tips of my toes.
“I’m…It feels so good…Emillia.”
I twist his scarf around my other fist and bite back a wince from the pain in my wrist. No matter if I fracture it again. This is worth it. The look of absolute devotion on his face, the orgasmic pinch of his brows. Gods, he’s so close from so little.
