Page 117 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“You’re quiet,” I observed.

“Just tired,” he answered, reaching across to trace a light fingertip along my jaw. “And… distracted.”

“By the Heirloom?” I ventured.

His gaze lifted from my lips to lock on my eyes. “Among other things.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes in mock exasperation. “You only manage a three-second attention span for anything that’s not about world domination.”

“Strange,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across my lower lip, “with you, the hours pass like seconds.”

I wanted to toss something witty back at him, but the warmth of his touch turned my thoughts into a haze of want. I set my plate aside, letting him lean in. The kiss was soft as a whisper, a gentle sweep of his lips that barely grazed mine. Then, greedy for more, he pressed harder, his tongue teasing until I parted for him and tasted wine and that dark taste of Kazimir beneath it.

His fingers loosened the tie of my robe, tugging it open until the silk slipped down. I gasped at the sudden chill brushing my bare skin, but the heated look in his eyes chased it away. He took in every inch of me, gaze drifting from my face to my exposed breasts, and then he bent his head to trail lazy kisses across sensitive skin. My back arched, a spark of pleasure kindling every time he focused on a spot.

He finally paused long enough to whisper, “Lie on your side.”

I shifted onto my hip, the robe falling away completely. Kazimir shed his sleeping pants, revealing his erection, thick and hard. The bed dipped under his weight when he lay down behind me, a line of unmistakable warmth against my back. His lipsskimmed across my shoulder, moving up to the spot behind my ear.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to enjoy you like this?” he asked in a hushed rasp. “When you’re not fighting me, but… eager.” One hand slid over my hip, down between my thighs, exploring my slickness with a deliberate stroke that made me tremble. “Wet for me,” he murmured, voice full of smug satisfaction.

Then he let his hand drift away, gliding up over my stomach, my ribs, until his palm rested lightly against my throat. His lips resumed their path down my shoulder blade, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there before trailing down my spine. Each vertebra received attention—a kiss, a lick, a gentle scrape of teeth that sent shivers through me.

When he reached the small of my back, he paused. I felt the wet heat of his tongue trace a pattern—not random, but deliberate.

“What are you doing?” I managed to ask, my voice breathy.

He chuckled. “Marking you temporarily with a rune. You’ll like what it does.”

I opened my mouth to demand specifics and then couldn’t speak as a radiant heat spread from that spot, everything growing sharper and more intense. My entire body lit up with need.

“Oh,” I gasped, limbs turning pliable beneath his touch.

His fingers found me again, and he hummed in approval. “You’re enjoying that, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

He shifted behind me. Then I felt his cock, hot and hard, pressing against my entrance. He entered me slowly, inch by delicious inch. I clenched my fists in the sheets.

“Gods,” I breathed, feeling impossibly full, stretched around him in the most exquisite way.

“No,” Kazimir said, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. “Just me.”

Before I could respond to his arrogance, he began slow and deep thrusts that drew out pulses of pleasure that radiated everywhere. The rune amplified every little sensation, as though my entire body was an exposed nerve. He wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping our bodies flush, and I melted into the steady rhythm of his hips pressing firmly against me, that demanding stroke inside me. I felt every ridge, every vein of him, driving me toward a swift, shuddering peak.

When his hand slid down my stomach, I nearly bit my lip in half. He matched the thrust of his hips with the insistent circle of his fingers, sending me headlong into a staggering release. I clenched around him, and he groaned deep in his chest, pace faltering. His thrusts took on a frantic edge until his body stiffened, and I felt every twitch and throb of him inside me.

The sensation triggered another climax. I gasped into the mattress, hardly able to believe how intense it was. Kazimir let his forehead rest against my shoulder, our combined ragged breathing echoing in the hush of the room.

He stayed close, not pulling out, and looped an arm around my middle as though he couldn’t bear to let go. His voice came to me in a tired mumble, “Stay just like this.”

His breathing slowed and deepened as he drifted into sleep. I wondered what he dreamed about. Power? Conquest? Or perhaps something more mundane. The thought made me smile. The fearsome Dark Lord, dreaming of sweet cakes or puppies. It seemed absurd, yet... he was human beneath the shadows and power.

My muscles ached in the best of ways, but my mind refused to settle. I shifted slightly. His arm tightened reflexively around my waist, but his breathing remained deep and even.

The scars on Kazimir’s arm glowed in the darkness. His taste lingered on my tongue—wine and darkness and something ancient.

Outside, the moon had risen high. The citadel slept around us, floating, suspended between heaven and earth, a living thing of stone and shadow, keeping secrets in its foundations older than either of us. I felt storms brewing inside these walls, inside my chest. My power surging, receding, surging again.

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