Page 70 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
Chapter 21
Quiet Storm
DEVI
Warmth cocoons me. Not just from the embers of our makeshift fire, but from the steady rise and fall of a man’s chest beneath my cheek. For one long, blissful moment, I let it be. I let the ache in my limbs dull against the heat of Seth’s body. The rock bed is unforgiving, but nestled into him, I feel oddly at home.
My leg is flung over his, my fingers curled in the hollow of his neck as though he’s my personal, breathing pillow. Skin on skin. Hearts beating in tandem.
Mortification rises sharp and hot in my throat, and I try to extricate myself, hoping he’s still fast asleep. But our gazes collide. His eyes are already open, and worst of all, they’re sparkling. The sleepiness evaporates from my body in a rush, replaced by a pulse-pounding swirl of heat.
I speak low enough not to wake Percy, my Faeling sleeping soundly in a high nook in the rocks. “Is it morning?”
Seth grins—full-on, blinding, insufferable. “Not yet, no. You know, for someone who claims to loathe me, your unconscious mind sure has a different opinion.”
I glare at him and straighten my bra, but he’s undeterred.
“You’re beginning to like me, admit it.”
I sit up to put some distance between me and his ridiculously comfortable chest. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll shove you off a cliff tomorrow.”
His grin only widens. “Come back here.”
Thunder resonates along the surface of the cave, drowning out my outraged gasp as he tugs on my arms and settles me back in his lap. His strong hold on my wrists is gentle, but firm. I squirm to escape his grip only to end up pressing against his erection. My chest heaves, my nipples showing through the plain cotton of my undergarment, my breasts heavy and sensitive.
“Settle down, witch,” he whispers.
It’s claustrophobic. Intimate. Maddening. We’re cloistered in the middle of a never-ending storm inside a cavern that, for all I know, could collapse at any minute, yet I feel perfectly safe. Like the world out there, the enemies that want me dead, and the mistakes I’ve made, can’t reach this forsaken place.
Seth gathers my hands over his heart and holds them there before drawing me in for a kiss. It’s not as violent as the ones that came before, but just as passionate. Sweeter. Hotter. He tastes of salt and rain, spiced with an earthy undertone of limestone and metal.
The tantalizingly remote nature of our hideout makes me want to misbehave, and I don’t resist when he rolls us over, his weight pressing over me in an eerie, beautiful way. The muscles of his shoulders are well-defined and mesmerizing, and I let my hands travel over the smooth expanse of skin, his strong bite of power crackling under my fingertips.
He traces my tattoo in retaliation, studying its pattern. “I think you like me quite a lot, actually.” I open my mouth to argue, but he covers it with his free hand. “Don’t worry. We don’thave to tell Percy about your weakness toward me. It can be our secret.”
I stick my tongue out to taste his skin, the fresh, salty taste weakening my will power.
“I dreamed of you again,” Seth emphasizes the phrase with a slow grind of his hips, the hard shape of him rubbing against my core in a wickedly precise and deliberate manner. “I’ve looked enough. Now, I want to touch,” he says on a possessive,I-won’t-be-deniedgrowl.
It’s hot as hell.
He stretches my bra to free my breasts, and they spring out into the cold air.
Bright purple clouds roll in his irises as he tests the weight and shape of them in turn, teasing them, playing with them, studying my reaction to each graze and rough touch. It drives me wild that he doesn’t shy away from the scars, worshipping even the broken parts of me.
A zap of electricity spreads from the tip of his fingers, pinching my nipple before travelling south. I sink my nail in the nape of his neck at the unfamiliar caress, and my eyes widen.
“Don’t fight it, trust me.”
The intense flare hits again, the current scurrying to a spot inside me that both hurts and soothes. My back arches in response, his hand still covering my mouth. “Oh, fuck,” I groan against his palm.
“Let’s be quiet, queen of my heart. So, so quiet.” Seth bites his bottom lip at the sight of me writhing beneath him, slowly increasing the bite of his magic. The Storm touch heightens the sensations, like he’s got not one, but five or six hands massaging, plying, exploring my chest and stomach, and my lids flutter.
The pressure of his hand over my mouth increases, but I can’t hold my noises in.
I’ve never felt anything like this. Seth’s magic takes me right there to the junction between pleasure and pain. I should stop this before we go any further, before I break every promise I made, but this is too different. Utterly new. Wickedly exciting. I wantmore.
I rub myself over his erection. It’s still captive in the confines of his boxers, but the two thin layers of fabric between us don’t mask the violent throbs of his cock.
