Page 46 of Straw and Gold
The thought made me want to laugh. What a fool my husband had been, trying to deny the instant attraction between us. Well, I wouldn’t have it. I wouldn’t let him do it any longer. This fire in his eyes was mine and I’d see it as often as I could.
I continued to stroke him, keeping his gaze. “Are you not glad, husband, that I pulled my trunk into this room all those nights ago?” I licked up his rigid shaft again, leaving more spit to moisten my hold as I stroked faster and he shifted forward. “Are you not pleased that I refused to be parted from you, my husband,myfate?” My thumb grazed over the head of his cock, catching more of his cum. “Are you not happy with the wife you bound yourself to, kissing you in such a way?”
He let go at that, one hand cupped at the base of my neck, the other sliding through my hair. “It’s only polite I let you touch yourself as you finish me off, my Sweet Goldling. You must be dripping by now.”
I was. Goddessdammit, I was.
I bunched my nightgown at my waist, tying the loose fabric in a knot and slid my fingers over my skin, slick with wanton longing.
“Good girl,” he whispered. His hand behind my head pulled gently on my hair and somehow, I wanted him to pull it more. “Now,” he continued as my body responded to his voice, “You’re going to take all of me into your mouth. I’ll guide your head. Let me lead and don’t come back up until my cum hits your throat.”
I moaned in a short gasp as he pulled my head back further, leaning down to consume me with one of his kisses that left me utterly breathless. “You will finish with me. Are you ready?”
I nodded eagerly, diving back onto his cock with new fervor, licking, tasting, moaning as his hand pushed and pulled my mouth up and down all of his shaft. His cock hit the back of my throat as he filled my mouth completely and I sputtered for a moment.
“Take it all,” he growled. “All of it, Moh Dhóches.”
I regained my breath through my nose, furiously circling my clit and pressing my body against his legs, begging for him to let us both finish.
“Just like that,” he grunted, now bucking his hips in time with my head. “You’re doing so well, Morella. My beautiful Goldling with such a talented mouth.”
His hand squeezed my hair in one tight grip and I knew he was close. “Morella,” he gritted and I did little but take all of his cock and whimper as my own release neared. I just needed the full taste of him and it would be over for us both.
In a carnal groan that came from deep in his chest, he came, spilling into my mouth and I let myself go as I took it all, stubbornly refusing to spill a single drop. My own release tore through me, sending me pulsating on my knees and dripping down my own leg as I released him, gasping for fresh air.
His chest heaved as he looked down at me with eyes of brilliant blue, blazing with something I couldn’t name but had seen before.
His hands stayed, but gentle as his fingers brushed my face and he wiped what was left from my bottom lip before pushing it into my mouth. My tongue came out to meet him and lapped him clean, pulling his thumb between my lips, refusing to look away.
“I want to keep you,” he whispered, searching my face for…something.
I cupped my hands over his. “You have to keep me. I’m your wife.”
He gulped, a shudder running through his body. “In less than three months?—”
“I’ll still be your wife,” I finished, ready to beg for it to be true.
“Moh Dhóches,” he began.
“No, Killian. It will not be me who breaks this contract.” I lifted a hand to cup his cheek where he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. “It will not be me.”
A week went by,then two.
Each day blended into the next.
I woke each morning, put myself together with Alista’s help, and met Killian in his study. He would already be working away at facts and figures, research, and projects for our kingdom.
I’d greet him warmly and kiss the top of his head, bent in concentration, where he’d grunt an acknowledgement, stubbornly refusing me any more than that.
And each morning a side cart by his desk would be laden with my breakfast: berries, nuts, tea, and of course, my daily helping of fuilhe. I would pull up a chair in front of his desk and read one of the volumes ofCéaduah, Language of the Changelingfae, often pushing aside his work if only to catch his eye and smile as he grumbled his irritation.
When breakfast was finished and I had no real reason to stay in his study any longer other than to ponder when he was going to just give in to me, I’d head for the western tower and spin. Sometimes I’d spin for hours and hours on end, singing songs, tidying up the room, sweeping the floor, and doubling the day’s quota of golden thread.
Regardless of how long I’d take, he was there at the end of the staircase each time, and I wondered if he waited all morning or periodically shifted through wooden doors to check on my progress.
I’d greet him warmly again and hand him the spools of thread, asking about his morning, to which he’d reply with the shortest possible answers. We’d eat lunch together while Fedir joined us, discussing castle business. I always listened carefully, consumed by the workings of our realm and straining to hear any hints at what could be Killian’s true name.
Afterward, Fedir and I would leave, heading to the grassy fields so I could practice adjusting my wings, spreading them wide over and over to strengthen my muscles. The captain kept a notebook, jotting down all the timings of how long and far I could shift and fly as the iron in my blood kept me growing stronger each day.
