Page 52 of Of Storm and Emerald
Let the world fall away in that kiss.
His hands never wandered as he continued to hold her tightly to him, like he could meld them into one.
Like magnets that only an outside force could pull apart.
Minutes or hours passed, she wasn’t quite sure, by the time he pulled away. Leaving her breathless.
“I want you. But I want to take my time with you tonight.”
For a moment, she let herself drown in the swirls of green and pools of amber that peered back at her before she nodded, “I’d like that.”
Daemon placed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling her toward the bed, sitting on the edge as he guided her into the space between his parted knees.
He ran his hand down the outside of her thigh until he hit her knee, lifting until she placed her foot on the edge of the bed between his legs. The toe of her boot acting as an arrow pointing directly to the hard ridge of his cock.
Leisurely, Daemon slid his hands up both sides of her booted calf until he reached the tops of the laces just above her knee and began to unlace them. Pulling her foot free, he set it back on the ground before repeating the process on the other leg. His hands never leaving her body for more than a fraction of a second.
When both feet were free, he gently turned her around so that her back was to him.
Achingly slow, Daemon slid his hands from her hips up her sides and around to the laces that held her corset together. Every pull of the laces was like a direct line to her throbbing clit. When he finished, and the corset started to slide from her front, he stood and ran his hands up her sides to her shoulders where he gently pushed the straps down her arms, his fingers scorching a path along her skin. She felt the heat of his breath as his nose trailed up the column of her neck, leaving pebbled skin in his wake. She couldn’t help it when her head tilted to the side and fell back onto his shoulder, coaxing him to continue the blissful torture, and a moan fell from her lips when he placed a feather light kiss behind her ear.
“I’m going to get you right to the edge and begging for my cock without even touching that sweet pussy.”
His words were barely a whisper, but they made the blood running through Auraelia’s veins feel like liquid fire. Her knees felt weak, and she sagged against his chest, closing her eyes. The arm around her waist was like a brand on her skin. Without her corset, she could feel the heat radiating off him through the thin linen shirt she wore, and it sent another wave of arousal to her core.
“If I slid my hand into your pants right now, would you be drenched for me, Princess?” She could feel the smirk of his lips as he purred sinful words into her ear. He slid his hand down her stomach to the top of her legs, skirting the edge of her pussy.
Oh my, sweet goddess.
Auraelia whimpered at the lack of contact, making him chuckle behind her.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Her retort only earned her another chuckle as he pulled his hand back up her body. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, and skimmed the skin of her stomach, her muscles jumping under the touch.
While his hands continued their slow exploration of her body, his little finger dipped under the waistband of her pants. Traveling deeper with each pass but never going far enough. His thumbs skimmed the underside of her breasts while he narrowly avoided the sensitive buds of her nipples, and the fabric from her shirt added delicious friction to every slide of his hand across her torso. Some touches were like a feather being dragged along her skin; others were like brands that would mark her flesh for life. But every touch and caress pushed her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Auraelia was putty in his hands, and she was quite sure he knew it.
But two could play this game.
She pushed her hips back into his growing erection. Grinding into it, eliciting a groan that sounded deep within his throat.
“Auraelia.” Her name was a warning on his lips, but the firm grip he now had on her hips was a promise.
Slipping both of his hands under the hem of her shirt, he coasted his hands upwards, dragging her shirt with him.
The rough calluses on his hands from years of hard labor on a ship and handling a sword scraped against the soft skin of her side as they slid higher. When he could go no further, he leaned down, his voice a low growl, “Lift your arms.”
She did as he commanded, and he continued to slide the garment up and over her head. Tossing it to the side, he slowly trailed his fingers back down her arms, ghosting the sides of her breast and spreading goosebumps in his wake.
Auraelia let her arms fall back. Grasping the back of Daemon’s head, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled his face down to where her neck and shoulder met.
He went willingly. Trailing languid kisses across her shoulder and up her neck, while his hands slid down her torso to the laces on her trousers where he deftly loosened and undid the ties that held them in place.
Strengthening his hold, he rotated them around until she was facing the bed.
