Page 52 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Yes,” I said.

As if that was the only permission he needed, Carnon scooped me up suddenly and began carrying me up the stairs. I laughed, feeling ridiculously dainty.

The rooms we passed in the upper hall were also filled with shrouded furniture. We passed by several until Carnon veered into one on our right, lowering me gently to my feet as he turned to shut the door.

“Wait here,” he said, brushing another kiss to my neck before taking off to move around the room. He pulled sheets from the furniture, revealing a dark wooden desk, an elegant armoire in the same shade of dark wood, and a large, four poster bed. It had been left all made up, dark velvet drapes hanging from the posts and a rich, navy quilt covering the bed. There was no lamp or fireplace for light, so he threw open the drapes, allowing pale moonlight from the waning crescent moon to dimly light the space.

“This was your room,” I said, turning in a slow circle to admire the surroundings. The furniture didn’t really seem to suit him. He reminded me of cozy couches and large fireplaces and fur rugs, not this elegance. “You really are fabulously wealthy.”

Carnon laughed, striding back toward me purposefully and pulling me to him in a deep, bone melting kiss. My hands went to his shirt, taking the same liberty he had taken with me and lifting the fabric. The feel of his firm, bare skin beneath my palms was electric, and I gently ran fingers over the ridges of muscle, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“You’re ticklish?” I asked, looking up at him with a smirk of my own.

“A secret weakness,” he said, gaze going warm and soft as he looked down at me. He pressed another gentle kiss to my lips. “You are beautiful, Elara,” Carnon murmured against my mouth, pulling back to look at me again, his thumb sweeping across my cheek as he cupped my face.

“I thought I was only ‘fine looking’,” I teased, blushing a bit at the compliment. No man had ever told me I was beautiful before, not in earnest at least. I couldn’t decide if the excitement and anticipation I felt was because of the compliment or because of his closeness.

Carnon laughed. “I’ve altered my earlier assessment,” he said, dropping his hand to stroke a finger over my braid and smirking. “I very much like this color.” He leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to my lips and brushing my nose with his.

“I was serious downstairs,” he added, lifting a hand to cup my cheek, his face turning grave. “Despite your big talk. If you have changed your mind, all you need to do is say the word.” I pulled back a little, frowning.

“Do you…not want to?” I asked, now feeling rather self-conscious. We were still fully clothed, and he was right. We could stop now, no harm done. But I really didn’t want him to stop.

Carnon raised a brow at me and took my hand, sliding it over the front of his trousers to prove that I had his attention still. He groaned a little at my touch, and it sent a fire licking through me.

“What do you think?” he rasped, pressing himself harder against me. “I have wanted you for a while now.” My heart rate kicked up and my breath became a little shallow as he walked us slowly back toward the bed.

“How long?” I asked, trying very hard to maintain the playful banter between us, despite the fact that all I wanted was his mouth on me, and mine on him.

“A while,” he repeated, smirking a little as the back of my knees hit the bed. “I think I love these freckles.”

“Since Beltane?” I asked breathlessly, refusing to let him change the subject. He bent to kiss me again, a little less gentle and a little more insistent in his demand.

“Before,” he said, pulling away for only a moment before moving his lips to my neck. “I’m wondering where else you might have freckles.”

“Don’t I smell like a horse?” I asked, suddenly worried. He chuckled against my neck.

“You smell like a moonlit night,” he said, still kissing my jaw and throat as his hands moved to the laces of my bodice.

“That doesn’t have a smell,” I argued, feeling heat flood me in extremely intimate places as he loosened my garments.

“It does,” he argued, tossing the bodice aside and untucking the rest of my shirt. He lifted his head from my neck and looked down at me, his eyes almost black in the dim light of the moon.

“Like jasmine and sandalwood and vanilla,” he said, brushing his nose over mine. His voice became a deep rumble, his chest rising and falling a little faster in tandem with mine. “I want to taste you.”

I flushed, feeling heat creep into my cheeks.

“You have,” I said, brushing my lips over his again.

“Not there,” he rumbled, running a hand down my backside and pulling me close until he was gently cupping my center. I gasped. “Here.”

Despite being a virgin, I wasn’t totally ignorant. Vera had told me a lot of stories. A lot. She had talked about the different things she had done with various men, until my face was as red as my hair. But still, the idea that anyone wouldwantto put their mouth down there surprised me.

“I don’t want your first time to hurt,” Carnon said, face still close to mine as his hand moved back up my side. I was a little disappointed that he hadn’t kept it lower. “And the best way I know how to do that,” he continued, grazing the wandering hand over my breast, “is to make you feel very, very good first.”

Chapter 20

Carnon bent to kiss me again, flicking his tongue over mine as his thumb flicked over a peaked nipple. Even with a blouse and undergarments still between us, the contact sent a thrill of anticipation through me.

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