Page 32 of The Royal Curse

But before I could muster the right words, he’d climbed back onto the bed and leaned over me.

Those eyes, all coppery and dark at once. And that hair, catching red glints from the fire. The set of his jaw. The faintly sweat-sheened gleam of his freckled shoulders. The glow of his perfect Andreas-ness around him, like the corona of the solar eclipse I’d seen years ago, so bright it’d damage your eyes without a shade to block some of it out. The lingering effects of using my magic had left everything brighter, sharper, more beautiful—although Andreas had looked almost that perfect to me before, too.

“That was magic?” he said. “It only took a second.” His fingers brushed over the inner curve of my ass, one finger delicately slipping between my cheeks. “You’re not wet anymore. Huh. Magic. Impressive, Your Highness. It probably takes more skill to do something careful like that than to do something that looks all big and fancy, doesn’t it?” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Gods. If I hadn’t already been lying naked under him, I’d have flung myself down with my ass in the air when he looked at me like that—and praised me like that. “And you read my mind.” He circled my hole with his finger, teasing, making me shiver. “I was going to do that with a cloth. Although now I’ll need to start all over again with filling you up, won’t I? Will the pain start again if you don’t have some of me inside you?”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Would one of the scholars at the conclave have an answer for that? Maybe, maybe not, but I doubted I’d have the courage to ask anyone.

Perhaps it might be best to simply test it myself, in the interests of science.

“Let’s not risk it,” I said faintly. “Just in case.”

Of course, actually testing it would involve waiting to see if the pain came backbeforeletting him fuck me again.

Oh well. Magical science would probably manage without me for now.

“Mmm,” Andreas hummed, and moved—down, not up, bending to kiss my stomach, grasping my thighs and pushing them further open. As if he meant to fuck me, but how could he, positioned like that? “Agreed. Just in case. But first I need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Ah, so he meant to use his fingers, and he wanted to see what he was doing.

See very closely, it seemed. Did he have poor vision in low light? Because he’d used one hand to lift my balls out of the way, rolling them in his palm in an incredibly distracting way, and why did it feel so much better when he did it than when I did…he kissed my inner thigh, his breath hot in the cleft of my ass.

And then he leaned in even more, and he wasn’tlookingat me, was he? Gods, he was—my shaky moan rose up to the rafters as he swiped the flat of his tongue over my hole, wetting me from the top of the crease all the way to the little strip of skin behind my balls.

“Andreas,” I choked, “I don’t think you can—oh gods, that’s—you shouldn’t, should you?” So wet and strange, and he licked me again and again, up and down, like my body was a canvas and he was painting me thoroughly, laving me, sloppy and filthy, the ring of muscle at my opening clenching and releasing under his assault. “You shouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, I definitely should,” he said, muffled by my flesh, and licked again, making me yelp and squirm. “Speaking of magic. You taste like it. Open for me, Your Highness. I want to lick the inside of you.”

He wanted to…I lifted my head enough to peer down at his dark auburn one buried between my legs, bobbing up and down as he pushed his tongue—oh gods, inside me like he’d said, penetrating me in a slick, mobile way his cock couldn’t have done, moving so agilely. And thrusting. And then he groaned, and I felt it inside, and everything went blurry.

Andreas licked and sucked and nibbled and held me open, growling into me, soaking me and opening me, and I buried my fingers in his hair and clung on for dear life. I bucked and thrashed, and he pinned me down. He brought me so close to spending again, my cock so hard it pushed up to throb against my belly.

By the time he lifted his head, grinned down at me, and wiped off his face with his forearm, I was sobbing for breath, eyes glazed, throat raspy.

“I think that ought to do it,” he said, and wrapped his hands around my hips.

When he flipped me to my front, I didn’t even try to move. I knew he’d position us both however he wanted to take me. And he did, kneeling between my legs, stroking my back, leaning down to nuzzle my shoulder and my neck, whispering words of encouragement as he pushed my knees up.

The cool air on my very wet hole felt incredibly wrong, the kiss of the head of his slick cock a relief. I squeezed my eyes shut and listened to the rush of my breath echoing against the pillow and held perfectly still, letting all my muscles relax as he slid his massive shaft into me with no resistance at all from my body. He filled me easily this time, as if he’d already claimed a space inside me and now only needed to use it at will.

He moved slowly, too. Almost carelessly. There wasn’t any urgency this time, after all; my magic had never been more contented, and we’d both spent enough to be able to take our time.

I tilted my ass up a little further, stretching my thighs, making room for his cock. Andreas made an approving sound and palmed one cheek of my ass, rubbing a proprietary hand over me, pulling me open.

The straw mattress rustled, the ropes creaked, the frame started to thump gently against the wall. Andreas fucked me harder, fingers digging into my skin, balls slapping into mine and making them swing, the tug of the motion pulling me tighter and tighter, between that and the unending friction of his cock on that sweet, swollen spot in me…

The rush of his come inside me and the flood of my own felt like one release, one tensing and then softening. His cock slid out of me. I moaned, and Andreas ran his thumb over my hole, dipping in, soothing the emptiness.

I sank onto the bed as he released my hips at last and gentled me down. Big hands petted my ass and thighs, straightened my legs, massaged my calves. I shivered, and a blanket settled over me an instant later.

Oblivion settled over me a moment after that.

Chapter Thirteen

Losing one’s virginity, it turned out, encompassed far more than simply fucking for the first time.

Had I ever imagined how it’d feel to wake up in another man’s arms? Yes, if I were being honest: often, tossing and turning and hugging a pillow. But I’d never have been able to imagine how the arm clamped around my back would be a little sweaty, a little too hot, or how my leg thrown over him would nestle my cock and balls against his hip and make me want to squirm, or how chest hair would stick to my cheek.

Or how the heavy, steady beat of Andreas’s heart under my ear, under my hand, would be almost more intimate than having him coming inside me. I blinked. Andreas must have put out the candles, because only the faintest reddish glow from the remains of the fire lit the room. But it was enough to show me my hand, his shoulder, the edge of the quilt across his ribs.

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