Page 243 of A Dance of Water

Hot lips pressed against the skin on the inside of her knee. She released a stuttered breath and tried to snap her legs closed, but Tharen wouldn’t allow it.

"You never said I couldn’t kiss other parts of your body." Tharen’s voice rumbled against the flesh of her thigh.

She was dizzy. "I’m saying it now. Don’t k-kiss me." She gasped as his tongue traced over her skin. "Anywhere," she asserted. Teeth replaced his lips as he bit down. Her eyelids fluttered. "No… biting."

Did Luella have to outline every little thing for him? What part of impersonal did he not understand?

He huffed against her, breath hot on her already flushed skin. His fingers tugged on the hem of her gown, brushing her upper thighs.

Air kissed her flesh as he tugged it up. Apprehension robbed her of thought before she quickly blurted, "Stop!"

Tharen paused, staring up at her where his hands still gripped the bottom of her gown. Crackling embers glowed, echoed by a low hiss—the King was watching, poised to intervene.

"I want… t-to keep this on." Luella’s fingers dug into the altar under her, her breathing harsh.

He did not move for a moment, and slowly, she reached out, fingers sore from how she had gripped the stone. She took his wrist, not able to close her fingers around it fully—he was big,everywhere. The warm stardust belied her with a strength she did not feel. She used her grip on his hand to pull him back up, where he hovered over her body like a blanket.

He shook away her touch, and her hand fell to her lower stomach. He braced a hand near her head, the other flattening against her palm that rested on her stomach. The pressure made her head swim.

"What about this then?" Tharen teased gruffly, lacing his fingers with hers and using her hand as a tool, dragging it down to settle right above the space she was most aware of. The heel of her palm dug into her soft heat, and she jolted at the sensation.

"O-oh."

"I take it that’s a yes?"

Tharen forced her hand lower… and lower, taking her pointer finger and dragging along the crest of her inner thighs, flirting with the hem of her gown, but not brushing it away. He toed the line of touching her bare skin, making her gasp as he seemed to near it, and then dipping back just when a plea lingered on her lips.

Her thighs trembled around their joined hands, a slick heat building under her fingertips that made her feel shameful and hungry, all at once.

With her free hand, she stifled her cries, placing her palm over her lips as embarrassment threatened to break her out of the haze of desire clouding the room.

"It’s no fun when you’re quiet." The hard line of his jaw pressed firmly against hers as he spoke. "If you’re that desperate to be gagged, I have something much more fun in mind." A loud hiss made her hair stand on end, and she gasped, head lolling to the side and finding Vale, his lips curled back in a snarl. Not looking at the King, Tharen said, "Don’t get so pent up… Say it." He dragged her hand over her fabric-covered center. "Tell me how fucking badly you ache for me."

She shook her head, a part of her wishing the mage would stop teasing her and just get it over with already.

"Just…"

He smiled against her cheek, his long hair tickling her neck as it pooled over her chest from how he hovered over her. "Just?" he prodded.

She closed her eyes in shame. "Just touch me." The words were muffled by her hand.

"If you say so, Princess." Tharen tugged his hand away from hers, knocking it to the side as his fingers replaced hers. But the difference was stark. The mage’s fingertips were calloused, his hands rough and large.

And practiced.

Innocence did not make him falter as he placed a hand over her gown and finally cupped her between her legs.

Her back bowed at the softest brush of his hand against her. Already, she teetered on the precipice of something grand. Unknown. Liquid heat pulsed between her thighs.

"There’s the reaction I wanted. But I think you can do better."

That was all the warning she received before his face hovered right above hers.

He eclipsed the rainbow lights in the stone room. Her breaths were hot against her palm, which she still kept pressed over her lips to stifle the sounds he wanted. She would not give it to him. She already gave enough.

As if without her permission, her thighs fell open. Tharen’s hand pressed right over the intimate space between her thighs. Some part deep within her lower belly clenched, desperate.

The stone dug into her spine, but she was barely aware of the prick of discomfort as she shifted slightly, her lower half trying to arch up into his palm.

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