Page 183 of The Call of Crimson
It wasn’t just that I wanted him; Ineededthis intimacy and moment of reprieve in his arms. The weight of running a kingdom in peril, facing an entire city of starving citizens, and everything in between has become debilitating.
That was why I had feigned a stomachache at dinner to allow us to retire early for the evening. Unless the city was on fire or under siege, there would be no interruptions.
I slide down his length, sheathing him fully in one smooth, claiming motion. We groan in unison at the connection, and my skin pebbles, nipples hardening to stiff peaks.
“Goddess, you’re exquisite.” The praise rolls off his tongue as swiftly as I roll my hips against his, making us both gasp.
The feeling of having him after being deprived for so long is like the first breath of air when you’ve come up from drowning.
“You’re soaked for me,” he whispers as he rolls his hips beneath me in tandem with mine.
"This is what weeks of not having you feels like,” I sigh, rolling my hips in a slow figure-eight motion, feeling as every inch of him hits perfectly within me.
One hand tweaks my nipple, rolling it back and forth between his forefinger and thumb. The other hand grasps my hip, guiding my motions as I continue to rock against him.
The tingling sensation that signals my impending orgasm starts quickly, coming easily after weeks of yearning for him.
Just before I shatter, the door to his room flies open, hitting hard against the stone wall.
Cillian stands, staring at us but seemingly unfazed by what he’s walked in on.
“For fucks sake,” Elijah curses, throwing a blanket over my exposed form.
It’s too late, though.
My eyes connect with Cillian’s, and the adrenaline spikes as he watches me come undone.
My hips still as I shatter around Elijah’s cock, my orgasm hitting me harder than I care to admit.
I convulse around him, inner walls squeezing tightly and pulling Elijah over the edge into damnation alongside me.
“Fucking hells, I don’t have time to comment on what I just witnessed,” Cillian says, raking a hand over his face. “Let’s do it again sometime when your lives aren’t in imminent danger.”
He’s dressed head to toe in black leathers. They’re similar to Breyla’s but somehow darker. Two sets of matching leathers are thrust at us as he demands, “You need to get dressed. Now.”
I pull myself off Elijah, dropping the nightgown to the floor in favor of the leathers.
“Could you at least turn around, you bastard?” Elijah asks, annoyance filling his tone.
“Modesty seems rather pointless, considering I just watched both of you orgasm,” Cillian replies, shrugging.
I don’t admit it aloud, but he has a point.
As we dress, Cillian explains the situation. “A mob of starving citizens is headed here as we speak. The people have turned, and they’re looking for someone to blame. Most of the nobles have already gone into hiding. If we leave now, I can get you both to safety.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, trying to understand what could motivate him to care about whether we lived or died.
“I still owe Breyla my life. I’m not about to let her friends die when I can help it,” he answers quickly. He drapes a heavy cloak around my shoulders, pulling the hood up to hide my face. “You have three minutes. Pack only what you can carry.”
Elijah and I set to shoving the warmest clothes into a pack. From beneath the mattress, Elijah pulls out a bag of gold, severaldaggers, and his gloves. Cillian tosses him a cloak that he drapes over his shoulders before strapping the pack to his back.
“I’ve got food and more supplies packed and waiting with the horses. Let’s go,” Cillian says, but Elijah refuses to move.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing my wrist. “Where are we going, Cillian?”
Cillian reaches for the door handle, but Elijah’s hand shoots out to stop him from turning the knob. “I’m taking you west to Prudia.”
The anxiety churning in my gut is momentarily eclipsed by the excitement of seeing Breyla again. But if we weren’t safe here, what made Cillian think we would be safe in Prudia?
