Page 126 of Born for Silk

They both chuckle, but the sound dies on my snarl.

“I said drop them.”

Shaking his head, stifling amusement that only he and my brother can get away with, Kong hands back the flowers.

Turin Two laughs, returning the blooms to her. “Good luck with him, Aster.”

My little creature takes the flowers, confused, blinking over and over as she sorts her thoughts. “I don’t understand. I wasn’t trying to soften them, or make them less focused on the hunt, or… I don’t understand.”

“Give them to me.”

I watch as her eyes roam my leather vest, taking in the brutal dashes of red, before stopping on the thick blood drying, akin to cracked paint, on my fingers and knuckles.

She swallows, clearly nervous. “I didn’t think you would want… flowers, my king.”

I’m insane; I fucking realise this.

I don’t want fucking flowers.

I want her flowers.

Dropping to my knees, I meet her eye to eye. “If you pick the flowers, they are mine. Give me the damn flowers.”

The simmering of uncertainty in her gaze blinks away softly. Slowly, a sweet smile slides across her lips, as if she understands me. “You’re jealous, my king.”

I laugh coldly. “Unbearably, so.”

“Don't underestimate my obsession with you.” She repeats my words back to me, her playful smile stirring my monstrous soul with her purity, diluting the black, taming the claws and teeth.

Well, fuck.

I drop my forehead on her shoulder, sighing hard. What the fuck is wrong with me? I place my palms on either side of her hips. The white silk sliding over her lithe body. I glide my palms forward, low on her pelvis and cradle her beautiful, swollen lower stomach.

She sighs. “There you are.” Her fingers feed up my back, my muscles rippling, responding to the gentle, arousing stimulation, as though I am—fucking purring. She’s right. And I let it happen. As she drags her nails up my neck and into my hair, I growl approvingly from inside my chest. “You can have all my flowers from now on, my king.”

“I want the one between your pretty thighs.”

“When?”

“Right the fuck now.”

Chapter Seven

Aster

After we bathe, he is true to his demand.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I ride the strong, wet muscle in his mouth. My body hums from overstimulation. I cannot take much more—my skin prickles, stretching around my swollen belly; his mouth and tongue explore my wet, pulsing core; And the pregnancy leaves me feverish beyond reason.

“Rome,” I whimper, squeezing the bedframe as I rock on his long, thick tongue. His hands hold me up, supporting my body as I shudder and lose balance. I roll backward, using his rough chin at my opening, retreating from my climax. Still scared of it… I do that. It’s so much.

“You like sitting on your king’s face.” His voice is rough like gravel and greedy like a flame licking for oxygen. “Come back here. Don’t wriggle this little arse away. Don’t shy away.” Hot, demanding palms trail to my hips, grab and angle them, steering my hesitant movements.

“Rome…” His name is a moan of anguish on my lips. My temperature spikes, sweat films my skin, as his devious kiss becomes greedy.

As he flicks my clit with his tongue, he quickly stokes the pleasure inside me. Builds heat.

The room gets small. No thoughts. No shame. He rocks me on the firm, wet plane, throwing me into the pit of stimulation. No way out. No escape. The only way forward is through the heart of it to the other side where bliss awaits me.

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