Page 53 of Crown of Roses
Rowan didn’t respond. Instead he bent down and at first, there was nothing. Maeve trembled, her entire body wrought with anticipation. Then there was everything. She melted against the press of his mouth. She soared against the flick of his tongue. He licked and sucked, and when his hot tongue delved deeper between the folds of her most sensitive skin, she nearly came undone. But his strong hands held her hips in place and kept her bared to him. He gripped her firm, holding her still against the table while she wiggled beneath the velvety caress of his tongue. Without warning, he drew her little bud into his mouth, then slid two fingers deep inside of her.
Maeve cried out, but he was relentless. He made a noise, a kind of rumble with his mouth, and she arched toward him, offering herself like a sacrifice. Over and over, he continued to stroke her with his fingers, delving deeper into her core until she was hot and slick with need. Another thrust, another suckle, and just like he said, she screamed his name. Layer by layer he unraveled her, and she writhed in his arms. Her nails bit into the hardwood of the table and when those two fingers inside of her curved, when his tongue lashed the tip of her release, she fell into oblivion.
Gasping, Maeve came up for air.
Rowan kissed her thigh, just below the sheath where she kept her dagger. Then he stretched her leg up and kissed behind her knee. Then her ankle. He scooped her into his arms and off the table, before carefully depositing her back onto solid ground. He gave her a flirty wink, and she nearly buckled when he licked his lips. Her gaze betrayed her and she glanced down to where he bulged against the fabric of his pants. She stepped toward him, but her legs were useless, her body was spent. A rapturous song exploded inside her, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck, and ask him to do it all over again.
“All better?” he whispered against her hair and kissed the top of her head.
Maeve could only nod. She’d forgotten words. Speech was overrated.
He adjusted her gown, and made sure it hung in all the correct places. He gathered up the books she’d been reading from off the floor and tucked them into her arms. Then he gave her a gentle pat on the rump and led her to the library doors.
Lir was there, as cold as a stone statue. His jaw was clenched so tightly, the veins of his neck bulged and vibrated with displeasure. He wouldn’t even look at her.
Rowan moved his hand to Maeve’s lower back and guided her down the hall. Her heels clicked quietly against the white stone, but the sound was too loud, and it grated against the arched walkway.
Rowan glanced over his shoulder to where Lir followed behind them. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Lir kept one hand braced on the sword at his waist. “Nope.”
“He’s right where he’s supposed to be.” A low baritone coasted from somewhere behind her and fell around her like cold silk.
The summer air cooled, the way it would right before an impending storm, and chills raked over Maeve’s skin. She spun around to see Tiernan, the High King of Summer. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed, the collar of his deep blue shirt popped, and the sleeves rolled to reveal more tattoos of swirling gold crawling up his tanned skin. Sunlight spilled over him, and his eyes were a threatening mix of fury and amusement.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky, half-smile. “Did you find everything you were looking for in my library, Your Highness?”
Maeve held the books close to her chest to hide the flush of disgrace. His words scorned her and her cheeks flamed hot. She swallowed, but it was useless against her parched throat. “I did.”
“I bet you did.” His voice scraped down the walls of her mind and she blanched against the violation. “And did you enjoy it when he splayed you open like one of your books? When he pleasured you until you exploded with ecstasy?”
Nausea roiled inside her, a tumultuous wave of mortification. He’d watched them somehow. Tiernan had seen everything. He witnessed her become a pathetically weakened female, a wanton object of her own sexuality. Her gut seized and her heart tumbled down into the acidic pit of her stomach. She took a heaving, staggered breath.
“Oh, don’t worry, Your Highness.” He slinked into her thoughts again. “I didn’t see anything. Fae, however, have an exceptionally keen sense of smell.”
“Pervert,” she snapped and Rowan looked down sharply.
“What is it?” His quiet voice was meant solely for her.
Tiernan strolled forward and the air pulsed around them, electrified by his magic, tainted by the torment he could inflict. “I never pegged the Princess of Kells to be such a little tart.”
Rowan jerked like he’d been slapped and pulled Maeve into his side. “Watch your mouth.”
Tiernan rolled his shoulders back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and his teeth skated along his bottom lip. “My Court, my rules.” His ruthless gaze slid to Maeve and he edged even closer. He snared her by the chin. “Care to share? I’ve never been fond of seconds, but I might make an exception for you.”
“Get the fuck away from her,” Rowan growled.
“No,” Tiernan drawled. “You get away from her.” He stretched his arm out, barely flicked his wrist, and sent Rowan careening into one of the sloping walls, then pinned him there. His stormy, twilight eyes coasted over Maeve and her skin crawled. “For a mortal who hates the fae, you were certainly quick to give in to your most basic of needs.”
Maeve locked her spine in place and refused to cower to the High King’s crass remarks. He lifted her chin like he was inspecting her and she tore herself from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”
His taunting smile dissolved. “I do what I want.”
Pain exploded behind her eyes as his rich voice sank into her mind. “He was warned not to touch what didn’t belong to him, and he did it anyway.”
Maeve shook her head violently. The books tumbled from her arms to the stone floor and she gripped the sides of her temples with both hands. Her blood burned, and the darkness rose up, desperate to overtake and overwhelm.
“No.” She spat the word out through gritted teeth. “I belong to no one.”
