Page 87 of The Rest is History
‘And you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’ His hands skim up my thighs, over the lace of my hips and up my sides before they cup my breasts, thumbs skimming over my nipples. ‘This little lace thing is so fucking gorgeous with your necklace that I’m almost tempted to leave it on.’ His hands still. ‘Almost.’
And then they’re dragging the bodice down, down, and I’m stepping out of the scrap of fabric.
He has me naked.
In the palace.
Oh well. It certainly won’t be the first act of utter debauchery these ancient walls have seen. I’m sure James I’s courtiers could tell a few stories.
Charlie's eyes rake over my body. ‘Jesus Christ.’
He shrugs off his coat and chucks it towards a chair, his gaze not leaving me. ‘Up on the table, sweetheart,’ he says, his voice just rough enough to ramp the electric current pulsing between my legs up a notch.
I glance behind me and settle my bare backside on the sturdy wooden table. I really hope it’s not valuable.
Charlie moves in. Slowly. Assessing what he sees. Where to start. He lifts a hand and wavers for a second before curling it around the back of my neck, the pearls of myBchoker rolling under his fingers. I open my legs a little and he steps between them. My face is tilted up to him. A sunflower seeking the sun.
‘Remember when you got this caught in your hood?’ he asks hoarsely.
I lick my lips. ‘I do indeed.’
‘God, I wanted to bite down on your neck so badly. I was so fucking dizzy from being up close to your scent, I thought I was going to pass out.’ He drags his fingers over the skin.
‘I wanted you to kiss my neck,’ I confess. ‘I had goosebumps everywhere, just from the anticipation. But you definitely made up for it when you got me in here.’
A pained laugh against my mouth. ‘I certainly fucking did.’
He kisses me, his tongue parting my lips and delving into my mouth with hungry strokes. I respond greedily, my tongue matching his beat for beat as I attempt to devour his beautiful mouth. I grab at the stubble on his jaw, cupping his face in my hands.
‘This bloody costume,’ I moan. ‘Take it off.’
He laughs. ‘In a minute, gorgeous.’
Pulling away from our kiss, he runs his lips down the column of my throat and I throw my head back for him. His hands rake through my hair, pulling it away from my face and off my shoulders.
‘So fucking heavenly,’ he mutters against my throat. ‘This necklace against your skin has killed me every single time I’ve seen it on you. Your skin. Your hair. Your pink, pink lips. Those eyes I drown in. I’ve never seen anything like you.’
I make a noise of appreciation for his compliment and he dips his dark head to my breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking hard as his fingertips trace a path down my spine. Oh my God. I’m so turned on right now, so full of anticipation. My nipples and the space between my legs are aching with need for Charlie’s touch. His long pulls at my breast are a gorgeous form of torture, because I need more.
He switches his attention to my other breast, his fingers moving over the nipple he’s just abandoned. Rolling. Tweaking. Pinching, hard. Oh, God. My nerve-endings are already on fire. I open my legs wider and pull him in closer to me, my hands moving through his hair as I will him to ramp up his exploration of my body. I needmore.
Charlie gets to his knees and guides my legs open wider. He hooks them over his shoulders and looks up at me with hooded eyes. Slides a couple of fingers inside me. Crooks them. I inhalesharply, because that feels unbelievable, and push against his hand as I ease myself back onto my elbows and buckle up.
His mouth is tantalisingly close to where I need it, his breath warm and teasing on my exposed flesh.
‘Remember when we had that conversation with Zara in the staffroom at lunch?’ he grits out.
‘Really?’ I gasp. ‘You want to talk about Zara right now?’
‘Not her. What she said.’ He’s having trouble forming words. His gaze flits back and forth from my face to where his fingers are disappearing inside me.
‘What…’ I have no recollection of anything right now.
‘Henry and Anne. What it was like when he finally got his hands on her, properly. He must have fucking devoured her. I swear I only want you, sweetheart. But it’s pretty fucking mind-blowing, seeing you like this.’ He swallows. ‘Naked, apart from that necklace. So wanton, riding my fingers. Makes me feel like I’ve never had you properly before. Like I want to consume you. Take everything. I’m going to make you come so hard, sweetheart.’
His words make the ache worse. My breathing more ragged. The movements of my hips to meet his fingers more desperate. Because that visual does it for me, too. Big time. My king. My fully clothed, insanely sexy, all-powerful king stripping me naked and taking what he wants from me on a table, making me so crazy for his touch that all I can do is spread myself out for him and beg for him.
And beg I do.
