Page 63 of A Tale of Treachery

His teeth dragged along my jaw, the sharp edges threatening to break the skin.

A low, keening noise escaped my chest and I winced in embarrassment.

The dark laugh that slipped from his throat held no humor. “Oh, you’re not scared. I can smell you. Smell what you’re thinking about.”

Oh. My. Gods. What had gotten into him tonight?

“Is that what you want from me? A little attention?” he asked, his other hand tracing the neckline of my gown. “You don’t have to beg for my attention, little crow. All you need to do is ask.”

Goosebumps followed the path of his hand, and my pulse pounded, echoing in my ears. I gasped when his hand gripped the neckline of my gown and tore it wide open, exposing the shift beneath my gown. Air brushed along the skin of my chest, chilling me as his mouth latched on to my neck, the sudden wet warmth echoing straight to my core.

A cry spilled from deep within me, and I grabbed his shoulders and clenched my hands onto him, holding on tightly as he continued his ministrations. With a wet smack, he released my neck and grated out a command. “Answer me.”

When I didn’t comply, he bit down on my shoulder, the exquisite pain tearing the words from my mouth.

“Y-yes, yes. I want attention,” I gasped.

With that confirmation, he lifted his head, his eyes ravenous as I met his stare and begged for more. “Please.”

A rumbling noise sounded from his chest and his lips slammed against mine as his tongue sought entrance. I opened, allowing the taste of him to flood my senses as I licked. I wanted more. More of him. More of this. My hands grasped onto him tightly with an urgency that begged for him to continue.

And with that confirmation, he was a male on a mission, ripping and tearing the skirts of my gown into pieces, his hips grinding into my center.

I gripped his shirt, clenching the fabric in my fists to signal that I wanted more. There didn’t need to be clothing in between us, not right now. I was drugged on him, my mind and body filled with urgency. He chuckled, the air hitting my tongue as I tried and failed to remove his shirt. A growl of frustration tore from my throat.

Ryken bit my bottom lip and backed away with a cruel smirk, leaving a pinprick of blood where his teeth had nipped me. I reached up and touched my mouth, my eyes unfocused and clouded with need.

“Such an impatient little crow,” he chided as he removed his shirt in a fluid motion.

I gaped at him, at the expanse of golden skin and muscle etched with swirls of silver ink. The scrawls twisted and slithered along his veiny forearms, his neck, his chest, and his abdomen, continuing past the deep V-shaped muscles that disappeared into his breeches. A complex script of fae writing wreathed portraits of wolves, dragons, and various other creatures glowing against the skin of his torso. Six- and eight-pointed stars trailed along his sides and forearms, forming the shapes of constellations.

I fought the urge to reach out and trace my fingertips along the flowing design, for fear of ruining the moment, but my gaze followed the pattern that spiraled from his neck and down his body, disappearing beneath the fabric that covered his legs. Fabric that needed to go.

“Go on,” he said, raising a mocking brow, his lips tilting in an arrogant grin.

Shaking, my hands moved to the stays of his pants, and I licked my lips, untying them but leaving him to do the rest. His hooded eyes tracked me as I rose to my knees on the bed, slowly slipping off the remaining tatters of my gown. The savage look in his eyes zipped straight to my core as I slid down my undergarment, leaving me in a sheer shift.

I threw my shoulders back and raised my chin, looking Ryken dead in the eye. A rumble of approval emanated from deep within his chest, and he kicked off his boots.

It was as if we were taking turns getting undressed. So I reached for the hem of the shift and slid it up and over my head, tossing it clear across the room in a brazen display.

A pained groan spilled out of him, and he reached out to grab hold of my thigh, squeezing a handful of plush skin. But it was his turn now, so I tutted and pushed him away.

“Your turn.” I smiled.

The smirk on my face dropped as he dragged his pants down, revealing the hidden destination of those silver scrawls. I swallowed around the lump in my throat, my eyes widening.

He was huge.

I shook my head at the sight and size of him, his hardness larger and girthier than humanly possible. My mouth salivated despite the impossibility of taking that monster.

“Ryken…I don’t think this is going to work for me. I don’t…I-I’ve never…it’s just not possible.”

He chuckled and plucked the pins from my hair carefully, then wound the freed strands around his fist, yanking my head back. “It is possible. Don’t worry, little crow. I’ll make sure you’re ready. We can take it nice and slow to start with,” he assured me, following his promise with a deep kiss.

I planted my shaking hands on his shoulders, pushing him away and pulling him closer at the same time. My muddled brain told me I was ready, even though I wasn’t.

Ryken removed his hand from my hair and gripped my thighs to pick me up and carry me away from the bed, kissing me without breaking for air. I didn’t know where we were going, but a cry of protest exited my lips. With one last swoop of his tongue, he broke the kiss and planted my bottom on the edge of the tea table.

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