Page 53 of Knightfall
I’d hardly heard her last sentence. My stomach had dropped at the word love. And anxiety, curiosity, and obsession had sprung up. “Who do you think loves me?” I’d whispered. “What have you heard?”
Her brown eyes had sparkled as she shook her head. “If they aren’t telling you, neither am I.”
A whole round of tickle torture later, it seemed like my shite sister meant what she’d said. She hadn’t squawked—first time in her life.
Connor hadn’t joined in our tickle fight. He hadn’t even looked up that first night. He’d read a book and then watched the flames in the fireplace before curling up to sleep.
He didn’t talk to me whenever it was his night to stay with me. But Ryan and Quinn were both cajoled into playing cards with Avia and I, particularly after I promised to show them all the tricks I’d learned from the dealers at Kylee’s gambling house. Those nights became far more pleasant.
I didn’t give up hope on Connor. I knew I’d hurt him deeply. And I knew that his magic made him prone to depression. He could read the emotions of others, but then lost sight of his own.
Sometimes, when he slept, I crept out of bed, and stood over him, sending tendrils of peace to caress him. It was something he’d let me do when we were younger, but I knew he’d never accept if he was awake now. After I pulsed him with peace magic and bandaged my wrists, I always climbed into bed and watched him. It made the night full of wistful longing for me, full of memories, of sneaking Connor into my bedroom. Of hide and seek games with Avia that had devolved into hide and kiss sessions for us.
My eyes misted a bit, but as a memory of one particularly handsy kiss came up, Connor morphed into Quinn. And Quinn suddenly shoved the memory of me up against a wall. He dragged my yellow skirts up and slid his hands onto my naked hips.
Naughty girl. Did you not wear any underthings that day?
I had worn underthings that day. I was confused for a moment. Then I realized what was happening.Get out of my head.
Why? You were making me wild.
That was private.
No, Dove, what I’m about to do is private.And then the Quinn in my mind slipped to his knees and buried his head under my skirt. He breathed against my mound, placing a hand on either thigh. His tongue darted out and he gave each thigh a long, slow lick.
That’s so real, I can almost feel it.I moaned.
Relax, Dove.
How is it so real?
Because half of lovemaking is in your mind anyway. Now, do you want to argue? Or do you want me to give you your first mental melt?
Yes. Please.
Quinn chuckled under my skirt but moved his face closer. I could feel his lips caress my slit. Back and forth, side to side, he barely touched me. But each touch sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine. Anticipation made me grow slick. And then he licked his lips and kissed my clit.
The torture was so good. But I couldn’t take it. My real body was throbbing. My real hand slid down under the covers and pulled up my chemise.
Now, now. No cheating. This is my melt. You’re giving yourself to me.
How did you know what I was doing?
You practically shout your thoughts, Dove. All the time. Now are you going to be a good girl and put your hand back up? Or should I stop?
No. No don’t stop.
Then put your hands up by your head. And leave them there.
In my imagination, my hands were on a brick wall and I struggled to maintain my balance as Quinn’s quick tongue went to work, lapping at my sex. In reality, my hands clutched the pillow and my feet curled. My hips lifted off the bed.
Quinn sucked my clit into his mouth and tugged on it, turning his head side to side gently. The suction made sparks shoot through me, and the extra tug turned those sparks into lightning.
“Ahh!” I screamed my release.
A hand touched my arm and shook me. “Bloss! Bloss! Are you okay?”
My eyes popped open. Connor’s dark curls loomed over me. His expression was terrified.
