Page 51 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
Slowly, she lowers her hand. I keep hold of her fingers, interlacing them. Carefully, I untie her robe at the waist. A double set of pearly buttons holds the collar closed. With minimal effort, they pop free, allowing the robe to open, revealing a silky slip in deepest green. Black lace trim runs along the edges of the elegant night attire. This dress is far shorter than the last, revealing the length of her slim legs. They’re soft, long, the muscles dormant and unbothered. A life in luxury means she’s never had to develop the thick, protruding masses that define my body from so many fights with the damned.
Her legs are a distraction. I can’t help myself, the demands of propriety keep her hidden away in so many unnecessary layers of cages and clothing. She flinches when I return my focus to the mark that’s several inches above her prominent collarbones.
My touch is as gentle as I’m able as I brush my fingertips along the shiny, raised flesh. Lenore stiffens. I remember the way I froze up and fled when she first touched my scars and quickly drop my hand.
“I’m sorry.” She relaxes as I move my hands to her waist, drawing her closer. “I shouldn’t have peered inside your mindwithout permission and I shouldn’t have disappeared without a word. My intentions were good, if a bit rash.”
“A bit rash?” She lays her palms flat on my chest and narrows her crystal-blue gaze. “I was naked, exposed, and stuck with a concussed prince on my floor. Do you know how awkward it was to explain why he was unconscious in my bedroom?”
Tucking some of the strands of white hair behind her ear, I hum. “Terribly awkward, I’m sure.”
“Then you just waltz back in here with a pile of bloody penises!”
“I was trying to be romantic.”
She scoffs, but doesn’t fight me when I pull her body tighter against mine.
Giving a dramatic sigh, I lean down and plant a kiss beneath her ear. Her breath catches as my lips mark the sensitive spot. My voice is a whisper against her skin. “It looks like I have some making up to do.”
Another kiss, this one on the lower edge of her jaw.
“Definitely making up to do.” Her words are already breathy.
My mouth lands on her scar and she tenses again. I lay my lips on and around it, softly working from one jagged edge to the other. I spend time there, lavishing gentle attention on the place she’s been forced to hide for so long. Eventually her shoulders lower as she relaxes against me. Satisfied, my mouth moves lower, lips teasing the black lace top of the gown.
“You know that time in the maze… when you touched me?” Lenore sounds a bit embarrassed.
“As if I could forget the way you tasted. Or how well you took my shadows.”
She releases a small whimper. “That was the first time, well, before that I had never…”
“That was the first time anyone touched you?” My ministrations cease. A prickle of horror coasts along the back ofmy neck. It was rough and abrupt. Not the way anyone should experience their first intimate interaction.
“No, no. It was—” She stumbles over her words. “That was the first time my body… the first time I had that reaction to a touch.”
Snaring her gaze in mine, I clarify, “That was your first orgasm?”
She nods, her cheeks burning red.
Blood surges south. Using my hands on her waist to guide her, I walk Lenore backward. She stares up at me, gaze flicking between my eyes and mouth. Her back hits the damask wall, eliciting a small squeak. Pressing my mouth to hers, I whisper against her parted lips, “It certainly won’t be your last.”
I’m determined to be more gentle this time. Lenore is silent as I slip the nightdress from her body, removing my own shirt in the process. If she’s going to bare her scar to me, I’ll give her mine too. I’m delighted to find that she isn’t wearing any undergarments. The little minx must have known I’d return.
“Nothing underneath? Did you do this for me?”
Lenore pulls her lip between her teeth, nodding. “I wanted you to come back.”
“Why’s that?” I brush my lips over hers.
“I was hoping you would do that thing again.” She swallows, the sound exposing her anxiety.
“That thing. I did so many things in the labyrinth, little raven. Use your words for me. What do you want?”
I’m so easily able to bring a flush to her fair cheeks. “Your tongue. Down there.” The red staining her skin darkens.
Lowering to my knees, I keep eye contact as I hook one of her thighs over my shoulder. “Here?” My tongue traces between her folds.
It’s a rhetorical question. Lenore loses the ability to speak the moment I begin eating her cunt. I’m not one much for mythsand legends, but she tastes like the damned forbidden fruit itself. The flat of my tongue runs up her clit, making contact with every sensitive spot.
