Page 160 of Her Soul for a Crown
“Thrice-cursed blessings,” she breathed, then smashed her face against his. She ripped the blanket off and hitched her legover him. He groaned as she straddled his hardness, rocking her hips. “I knew men prayed on their knees. Until last night, I didn’t know Lords did, too.”
Reeri quirked a brow.
“Your prayer has been heard, Blood Yakka, and here is my answer.”
A shiver racked his body, and Anula slid down the rest of him. She tugged at his sarong, whipping it off, and memorized every naked inch of him. She trailed one finger across his collarbone, down the planes of his chest, over tightening muscles, to the dip at his hips. She smiled up at Reeri and sank.
Placing her hands on his knees, she slowly drove them up his thighs. She found his hardness, robust and ready, and took it in both hands. Her tongue flicked out to meet it. Reeri’s knees wobbled and she tasted his want.
Up and down, she stroked, smiling as his head fell back, eyes closed and groaning. She licked him, kissed him, stroked him in a circle, his hips swaying to her rhythm. And then she swallowed him.
He buckled. Fisted her hair and moaned. “Anula.”
She lost herself then, pumping faster.
“Anula,” he gasped.
She sucked harder as he bucked and trembled, spurring her on.
“O Heavens,” Reeri roared as he went over the edge. Warmth filled her mouth with heavenly sweetness and earthy salt.
“Are you pleased with my answer?”
A fire glinted in Reeri’s eyes. “Pleased enough to pray again.”
He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back to straddling—
The door burst open.
They jerked to a stop, panic flooding them both. Was it Bithul or another guard? Had something gone wrong?
“Once you’re crowned and it’s official”—Premala’s voice echoed through the chamber—“we need to clean up both the inner and outer city.”
Reeri scrambled, wrapping Anula’s robe around her and fumbling for the blanket on the floor.
“There’s a significant number of injured and homeless. Bithul has sent scouts to see how far the Polonnaruwans reached into the villages. We need to tell the fisherman about the Makara. Fate can’t actually be eating sailors and demanding sacrifices, right? I mean, I know they’re a Divinity but—”
Premala paused, half-bent picking up a blanket off the floor. But it wasn’t a blanket, it was a sarong. One that Reeri was also grabbing.
Premala shrieked, dropped the sarong, and spun around.
“No knock?” Anula shouted. Reeri hurriedly covered himself.
It took a moment for Premala to answer, and when she did, she giggled. “Friends don’t have to knock.”
“I must have missed that rule.”
“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be…occupied. Nice to see you again, Reeri.”
“Likewise,” he mumbled.
Anula slipped off the bed, tightening the blue water lily robe around her and turned Premala around. “How did you know?”
“I’ve told you, the guruthuma can sense the Yakkas. It’s hard to explain, but he has a vibration about him. I felt it enter the palace last night.”
“I sense yours as well,” Reeri said, now fully clothed. “A blessing not granted to many.”
Premala blushed and smiled. More secrets of the cosmos Anula would never understand. Perhaps no one was supposed to and the cosmos was a mystery to be explored, instead of a question to be answered.
