Page 118 of The King's Maiden

He slipped one finger, slick with my wetness, between my cheeks and circled my tight, unexplored hole before gently easing his pinky inside me. I cried out, my body bucking against his hand, as he held still and whispered in my ear to relax. To let him in. To trust him.

I did. But only because something was building inside me I’d never felt before, and I needed to see it through to the end. He rubbed my clit as he slowly worked my body with his fingers.

“Come, Maiden. Again.” Landon’s low growl came right as his hand tightened around my throat. “Trust me and let go.”

It was too much. Too fast. Too unexpected. I felt like I was going to explode. Like all the desire in my body couldn’t possibly be contained. I had to come. I had to let it out.

A hoarse, strangled cry wrenched from my throat as Landon wrung out every last bit of release from my body, relinquishing his hold on my throat at the same time.

With a guttural moan, I came all over his hand as oxygen rushed straight to my brain. Pleasure exploded out from my core like a starburst, cascading all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

My body tingled as Landon slowed his pace. He eased me down from the high before slowly withdrawing his hand and pushing the blindfold off my face.

I hung there gasping for breath. My vision blurred as tears poured out of my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Not from fear or because I was hurt, but driven by a need to releaseeverything.

I sobbed out the last shred of anything my body had been holding onto—grief, sadness, pain, and regret—and when it was done, all that was left was oblivion.

Euphoria, blissful and deep, washed over me.

But then a wave of dizziness and fatigue hit, right as the first swipe of a warm towel cleaned my tender body. Landon kissed my cheek when the darkness came.

And I let go and let it pull me away.

Chapter Thirty-Three

QUINN

Ihad no idea what time it was when I came to, but Landon had brought me back to the room and put me to bed again. I woke up dressed in a pair of silk pajamas with the covers pulled up around me. My hands ran over my body, checking for sore spots on my breasts and inner thighs. For the most part, everything felt normal.

But when I sat up and found Landon watching me from the chaise, the end of our night came flooding back to me.

“How—” My voice croaked and my throat throbbed. I stared wide-eyed at Landon as he eased off the chaise and came to sit next to me. “What?—”

Another croak.

The glass of water Landon handed me eased the ache in my throat tremendously, but the lingering soreness triggered me. When I rubbed at my neck to stretch out the tender muscles, it reminded me so much of what I had to do after the accident. It jolted me back to a year ago.

Landon eyed my neck carefully, his hand twitching at his side like it wanted to reach out.

Shoving it in his pocket, he stepped back from the bed. “The soreness should be gone by tomorrow. I put some medicine by the bed that should help with any inflammation.”

He shifted his feet, and his other hand scratched behind his ear.

My eyes narrowed on him. “You’re nervous.”

His hand froze. “No, I’m not.”

I pointed at his ear while his hand slid down to his other pocket. “Yes, you are. That’s your tell. We’ve been living in the same room for almost three weeks, Landon. I’m not blind.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I rolled my eyes and climbed off the bed. “You scratch behind your ear. Just like I tug at my scar. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable by pointing it out. I just don’t understand what you’re anxious about.”

He frowned, but since I stood my ground, he caved first. “I didn’t think you’d bruise.”

“What?”

My hand shot up to my neck, and I raced over to the bathroom to see for myself. Sure enough, my skin had very faint but lingering bruises on it, and if I craned my neck to examine them in the mirror, I could almost make out the shape of fingerprints.

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