Page 88 of Sweetling
Molly wasn’t a stranger to having her body admired and lusted after. Even with her soft middle and pockmarks, men always loved a big pair of tits. Yet, having Allarion look at her like that—like she was better and more precious than velvet and jewels and magic—brought a novel thrill.
Despite the day, under his gaze, Molly did feel beautiful.
More damn tears pricked at her eyes, but they were happy this time.
Fates, she wanted him to never stop looking at her like that.
Like with everything he did, Allarion unlaced her stays and stockings with methodical precision, his attention never wavering. Molly’s own breathing deepened as she felt her clothing loosen from her body, and by the time he pulled away her stays, her nipples had hardened, eager for his attention.
Allarion’s lips parted on a needy groan, and Molly stood a little taller, arching her back.
He didn’t immediately grab for her tits, which both impressed and disappointed her, but instead knelt again to unlace her stockings. The knotted strings were nothing to his questing fingers, and he kept her gaze as he gathered them down her legs. She used a hand on his shoulder for balance to step out of them and then, finally, for the first time, she was completely bare in front of her fae.
A shuddering breath fanned her middle as he did as he’d said he would and looked his fill.
He’d barely touched her skin, and yet she burned. When he reached out to touch one of the deeper pockmarks on her upper thigh, Molly nearly jumped.
His eyes softened with tenderness. She’d told him of her beginnings in the village with her parents, and how the plague had takenthat all away. Molly had spent many years being ashamed of the marks left behind and often resented the reminder. There were many days she hated the sight of them.
“I have many of them,” she warned him. She’d been lucky at least to avoid scars on her face and neck, but there were still many spots and marks across her lower half.
His fingers were so gentle, his gaze so tender as he said, “Every leopard has her spots. These are yours.”
He kissed the pockmark, and then one at her hip, and another on her other thigh.
Molly carded her fingers through that silvery hair, loving the silky glide under her palm almost as much as his easy acceptance. Yet again, he took her breath away with the boundlessness of his devotion. Sure, he could be sweettalking her into bed—he wouldn’t have to work hard to do it. But as she dug her fingers into his scalp when he turned a kiss onto her lower belly, Molly knew, deep down inside where all her deepest hurts lurked, that he meant it.
Fae don’t lie.
Smiling up at her, he rose suddenly and brought her with him, picking her up only to lay her down on the bed. Molly scooted up to lay on the fluffy pillows, biting her lip in delight to see him looming over the side of the bed.
When he went to plant a knee in the bed, though, she stopped him with a foot on his chest. He looked down at it as she toed a button on his tunic.
“Off,” she said. “It’s only fair.”
He arched his brow at her again, wrapping his hand around her foot. Her ankle got a nipping kiss before he stepped back to undress himself. Molly watched greedily as he shed layer after layer, revealing a little more of his true form beneath. Her pulse quickened when his undershirt was peeled away, revealing pale purple-gray skin pulled taut over densely packed muscle.
He was all coiled strength, not a shred of fat on him. He almost seemed too skinny, his ribs prominent over an etched abdomen. No hair decorated his finely wrought chest, although he did have flat, dusky purple nipples. His shoulders were rounded with muscle, his arms lanky and lean. He looked every bit the fae warrior, stripped down to his most elemental.
His boots and socks went next, but when he tried again to join her on the bed with his trou still in place, Molly stopped him with her foot.
“Those too.” He’d said he meant to focus on her, but Molly wanted all of him.
“Not tonight, sweetling. I need the reminder.”
Molly pouted, opening her mouth to argue, but he was quicker. Levering onto the bed, he was suddenly above her, his starlight hair falling around them. Molly fell back into the pillows, her hands coming up to run over his flanks and feel all that hard strength for herself.
She was easily distracted, his mouth taking hers in a searing kiss.
Molly didn’t know who had the upper hand anymore as his mouth made love to her, confident tongue swirling around hers, teasing lips coaxing her to chase and claim. She wasn’t sure it mattered, not truly, not when he kissed all her thoughts and cares away.
Those kisses moved down to her chin then neck and throat. He lingered there, his body trembling beneath her hands. Her pulse kicked below his hovering lips.
With a sigh, Allarion delved lower. Fluttering kisses rained down on the tops of her breasts, the tip of his nose teasing her sensitive skin.
“The way I havedreamedabout these,” he said reverently, plumping one in his big hand.
Molly chuckled as he groaned in ecstasy, his fingers sinking into the plush give of her flesh.
