Page 166 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

All thoughts vanished. She’d deal with everything else another day. Right now it was only Graves moving inside of her. She might have started as his wren, belonged to him in that way, but she was not a pawn for the Holly King. She wanted this, and she couldn’t imagine another world where she didn’t want it.

“God, you’re close,” he said as he slammed back into her.

“You have your gloves on,” she teased.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me.”

“Fuck yes,” she groaned. “Harder.”

He obliged, leaning forward and carefully placing a hand around her neck. He looked down at her as he continued to fuck her with a question in his eyes. But she would take everything he would give her. Everything and more.

He increased the pressure slowly, choking her as he pumped into her at an increased pace. Her body was all sweet pleasure, a hazy, delightful mess of emotions. The added feel of his grip around her throat—him claiming her, her wanting nothing more than to be claimed as his.

She came undone all at once with a vicious cry, and he milked her orgasm for all it was worth, using her body to draw out his own. With a grunt, he unloaded into her until he, too, was spent.

He collapsed forward over her body. Their panting breaths mingling in the empty cellar. His lips pressed against her neck and across her collarbone to her shoulder, laying claim to all of her.

Chapter Forty-Nine

The next morning, she woke with Graves’s head between her legs. She murmured softly as the feel of his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit pulled her from her dreams. Then the murmurs turned to mewls and the mewls to moans.

“Morning,” he said into her thigh, pressing firm kisses down to her knee. His gray eyes looked at her with a predatory glint. “Wanted to break my fast with my favorite meal.”

“You didn’t finish.”

His fingers slipped down her inner thigh, teasingly avoiding the one area she wanted. “Show me what you do when I’m not here.”

“I’m too busy with your cock to touch myself.”

“When you were gone, then,” he said devilishly. “Did you touch yourself thinking of me?”

Yes.

The word caught in her throat. She had. So many times. No matter how furious she was with him, he’d still been the best fuck of her life. And that wasn’t something a girl just forgot.

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Show me.”

Her hand slid down her stomach before parting the flesh and slicking her fingers through her own wetness. She was soaked from Graves’s ministrations. She hadn’t been thatfar from coming when he’d stopped. She brought her finger back up to the apex of her thighs and swirled it around her clit.

A soft sigh left her mouth as her pleasure ricocheted through her. She was so sensitive and so turned on and so ready to orgasm already. Graves watched her, fascinated by the sweep of her fingers and her pants and the rise and fall of her chest.

His cock lengthened, thick and heavy as he watched her. As if he could hold out no longer, he took it into his hand and pumped it up and down to the time of her circles. He could have fucked her at any point, but instead he watched. His fascination with the sight of her pleasuring herself was a pulse between them.

And she, too, was mesmerized. Watching his cock disappear in and out of his hand. Hands that had blackmailed and tortured and killed people. That had made her scream her pleasure and find her memories and held her safe. A duality that she couldn’t begin to disentangle. Maybe she never would.

“Oh God,” she cried out as her orgasm hung by a string. “I’m close. So close.”

Graves was pumping even faster. One hand parted her legs, slipping fingers inside her wet pussy. The added friction tipped her over the edge. She came with a fury, clenching around his fingers. He continued jacking off, watching her orgasm with a renewed fervor. Then he unloaded, hot come spurting out of him to land on her chest and stomach. Sticky white seed smeared all over her.

When he finally finished, he looked down at her through bedroom eyes and said, “A masterpiece.”

She laughed. “I’m covered.”

“I fucking love it.” He ran a finger through his own come from breast to belly button and down further. “If I had it my way, I’d have you filled and covered in come every weekday and all weekend.”

“Oh my God,” she said with an eye roll. “What are you, marking your territory?”

He grinned. “Maybe I am.”

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