Page 30 of The Royal Curse

And so now I knew what I’d been missing, and every time I lifted my potion to my mouth I’d think of this night, of Andreas’s arms around me, his cock buried deep in me, his hands and lips drawing out all my closely kept secrets. I’d wonder if I ought to throw the potion away and find someone to love me.

No one could ever love me enough, I didn’t think, for me to trust him implicitly with my life and my dignity and my body.

But that had to be for later. Right now, I had an idiotic little smile on my lips and faint tremors, aftershocks of ecstasy, running down all my limbs. The bed rose up to support me like a warm, fuzzy cloud rather than the hay bale wrapped in cheap linen I knew it to be.

And so I gave in to it.

For now, I could stop fighting and simply be.

Chapter Twelve

The outside world filtered back in slowly, one sense at a time. First hearing: the soft susurrus of my own breath, the gentle crackle of the fire, and the tapping of rain—or possibly snow, and I couldn’t be bothered to open my eyes and find out—against the window.

Scent next, the fireplace’s smoke and the sharp bite of icy air trickling in around the window frame, and the salty, sweet, and bitterly delicious aroma of Andreas and of my own pleasure.

All of that might’ve soothed me into a nap if it weren’t for the awareness of my own body which came next. More specifically, the heavy weight of Andreas’s head on my hip. Shaving apparently hadn’t been a priority for him in the last couple of days, and thick stubble prickled my thigh.

Of course, that paled in comparison to the sensation of his hand between my legs, his thumb teasing behind and under my balls and rubbing over the tender, slick rim of my hole.

Extremely slick. Slippery, in fact, with the bed under me all wet.

Oh, that wasdisgusting.

My eyelids popped open as my whole body went tense. So much for the way I’d been floating in complete contentment. I tried to shift my position, but Andreas had me pinned. Peeking down my body, I found him looking up at me, gaze steady and serious. Another idle circle of his thumb over my well-used flesh had my face and neck burning.

A helpless, involuntary squirm accomplished precisely nothing. Andreas pressed against me a little more firmly and blinked at me.

“I wondered if you were asleep. Don’t try to get away from me, Your Highness. It won’t work,” he said mildly. “I’ve decided I may as well be hanged for a lot of treason as a little, so you’re not going anywhere tonight. And neither am I.”

“It’s not about hanging you,” I sputtered. “How can you want to—I’m all wet and—and—stretched, and—”

“Mmm,” Andreas said, and leaned in a few inches to press a kiss to my balls. His hot lips on that incredibly sensitive skin stopped me dead in my tracks. The way he glanced up at me through his lashes as he…oh, gods, helickedme, tongue laving the side of my balls and his thumb pressing into me slightly—I fell back, gasping, little tremors flickering through every one of my overwrought nerves. “Wet and stretched,” he whispered against my skin. “I did that to you. And I like admiring my handiwork. Your Highness.”

“You kissed my testicles,” was all I could manage. “You—I can’t believe you!” I broke off in a moan as he licked me again and then laughed, the vibrations burrowing down into the center of me where he still had the tip of his thumb buried in my body.

Gods, the pleasure of it transcended the physical. The tenderness of it, the playfulness…a few poorly written erotic books hadn’t prepared me for the idea that sharing a bed, sharing my body, could be filthy and sweet at the same time. It was almost more of a revelation than learning how it felt to be thoroughly fucked.

“I told you, you have no idea,” he breathed, and lifted his head a bit, moving across to the crease between my groin and the opposite hip and brushing his lips over my skin. “I’m going to kiss—you know what, I think I’ll show you.”

Before I could blink, he shoved himself up, clambering over my leg and bouncing off the bed with more energy than I thought it right or just for anyone to have after so much exertion and strain. I was only four years older than he was, for fuck’s sake. Then again, I’d come three times to his two. That had to count for something.

With a hop on one foot and a muttered curse, Andreas shoved his trousers down the rest of the way, stepping out of them and toeing off his stockings at the same time.

He should’ve looked ridiculous. I would have.

But he managed it with such insouciance. And I’d never seen anything more mouthwatering than his completely nude body. I could only gape at him, mouth hanging open, as he crossed to the dressing table and started to pour fresh wash water into the basin the maid had left there hours ago. Limned by firelight and candlelight, all the shallow curves and sharp angles of his soldiering-honed body gleamed honey-gold. Perhaps I understood, a little, why one would want to lick a lover. That ridged V of muscle just inside his hips begged for a worshipful mouth. And the curves of his biceps.

Andreas turned halfway toward me, pausing to wring out a cloth.

Mmm. Fucking gods. His hips and his biceps weren’t all that tempted me to kiss and lick and taste: even limp, his heavy cock hung thick over his large balls. I licked my lips in lieu of something better. Although I might wait until he’d had a thorough bath, considering where his cock had been.

Too bad we didn’t have a tub in here, and I didn’t want to try to send for one, with all the hustle and bustle. On the other hand…I might be able to do something about it myself. My magic hummed along contentedly, already rewoven into the fabric of my mind and soul. Sparks flickered just behind the tips of my fingers, an oddly pleasant itch. I hadn’t gotten around to mending my trousers yet, so this would do for a demonstration.

“What were you planning to wash with that?” I said. “I might be able to offer an alternative.”

I’d have to try it on myself first, though. Testing one’s long-dormant and possibly flawed magic on someone else’s cock seemed rude at best.

Andreas glanced up and smiled, and I went dizzy all over again. Fuck, I’d forgotten how disorienting it was to stop using my potion, and I’d obviously never actually switched from that to the more traditional method of controlling my twilight magic. If my personal guard, naked and smiling at me, was enough to make me lightheaded and short of breath, then obviously this wasn’t an experiment I ought to repeat. What would happen if I lived like this all the time? I’d be horribly needy. A slave to my own body’s desires, helpless to stand up to whichever lover had me in his power.

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