Page 36 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"They can watch, but no one will touch you." His smile is darkly possessive, absolutely feral. "You are mine alone, and I want them to know it."
His shadows carefully part the seams of my undershirt, sliding the fabric away from my body with deliberate slowness, exposing my breasts to the cool air and any eyes that might pass our alcove. The rational part of my mind screams in protest, but that voice grows fainter with each passing moment, drowned out by the drug-like euphoria flooding my system.
I hear voices now, courtiers passing through the corridor, some lingering near our alcove. One shadow slides between my legs, pressing against me through my training pants, creating a friction that makes my knees buckle. Only Kaan's body and his hungry shadows keep me upright.
"I could take you right here whether you want it or not," hemurmurs against my ear, his voice a dark threat and promise combined. "But I want to hear you ask for it. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you where anyone might see."
The challenge in his eyes is clear. He thinks I'll retreat behind my mask of hatred and dignity. That I'll never admit to wanting this, wanting him, even as my body betrays me completely. And normally, he'd be right.
But there's nothing normal about the golden fire coursing through my veins, stripping away pretense and inhibition, leaving only raw, honest, desperate need.
"Don't stop," I whisper, shocking us both with the naked want in my voice.
Something dangerous and triumphant flares in his eyes. "Say my name."
I swallow hard, fighting one last battle with my pride before surrendering completely. "Don't stop... Kaan."
His response is immediate and devastating. His mouth claims mine again, this kiss somehow more possessive than before, more consuming. His shadows carefully work at my remaining clothing, sliding pants and undergarments away with deliberate precision until I stand completely naked in the alcove, exposed to anyone who might glance our way. I should be mortified. Instead, I'm burning alive with need, absolutely exhilarated by the knowledge that we might be watched.
"Look at you," he breathes, stepping back to take in my naked form. He licks his lips slowly, deliberately, and the hunger in his eyes makes me even wetter. "My deadly, vicious little queen, stripped bare, shaking, and begging for my touch."
His shadows slide over my skin like living silk—one curling around my throat, others dragging down my sides, across my hips, between my thighs with deliberate, maddening slowness. His fingersfollow a heartbeat later, teasing, pinching, dragging sounds from me I didn't know I could make. I writhe shamelessly under his touch, lips parted, gasping his name.
More voices now—closer, curious, some courtiers clearly lingering to listen. Among them, I notice Damir's voice, though he seems to be trying to move others along. My teeth sink into my lip to hold back a moan, but the idea of someone else hearing us, knowing I'm naked and dripping with arousal, only enhances the heat building inside me.
Kaan senses it immediately, his surprise filling with dark joy. His eyes narrow with wicked understanding. "No," he snarls, thrusting two fingers inside me without warning, making me cry out loudly enough to echo down the corridor. "You don't get to hide anymore. Your tight cunt gets wetter when you know someone else is listening, doesn't it,hatun?"
His thumb circles my clit hard and fast, cruel and knowing, and I can't deny it anymore. He's figured out my darkest secret, the forbidden thrill I get from the possibility of being caught, being heard, being known in my most vulnerable moments. When I still try to stay quiet, a ribbon of shadow wraps around my neck, not choking, just tight enough to force my breath to catch, to remind me who's in control.
"Let them hear how much you're enjoying this," he commands, his voice like a whip. "Let them know how you fall apart for me and only me."
The courtiers are gathered now, their voices a mix of shock and fascination. Through the gap in our concealment, I can hear someone trying to disperse them, but others clearly want to stay and listen. I pant harder, right on the edge, trembling with the knowledge that they'll hear us, that some might even catch glimpses of us. The thought should horrify me, but it makes me impossibly wetter.
My legs tremble as he pushes them apart with deliberate slowness,my modesty stripped bare as he falls to his knees and looks up at me with the most wickedly hungry grin.
"You're dripping for me," he says, his voice rough with desire. "And you love that they might hear me worship you."
Then his mouth is on me, hot, ruthless, claiming me with zero hesitation—tongue and teeth and lips. No preamble. No mercy. Just pure, devastating pleasure that makes me scream.
His hands dig into my thighs as he spreads me wider, holding me open as he slides his tongue deep inside me. I moan loudly, past caring who hears me. My fingers curl into his dark hair, and I can't stop gasping at each sensation that pulses through me. His hands grip my thighs so tightly I know I'll have bruises, but I don't care. I want to be marked by him.
He devours me like he's starving, like I'm the only thing that can satisfy his hunger.
The pressure is relentless, wicked, focused only on dragging pleasure out of me like a confession torn from my lips. My fingers leave his hair and claw at the stone wall behind me as I fight the scream rising in my throat, trapped behind clenched teeth.
He groans when I buck against his mouth, his hands bruising on my hips as he pins me down, lips slick with my arousal. He doesn't stop, doesn't give me a moment to breathe.
His shadows rise up and slowly twist my nipples, the dual sensation making me cry out in exquisite agony and pleasure.
He stops what he's doing and looks up at me, his face glistening with my wetness and the most triumphant expression I've ever seen. "Let them know what I can do to you with just my mouth. Your cunt drips with arousal because you like being heard by the whole court. You like them knowing I'm on my knees worshipping you like the queen you are."
And then he's not holding back anymore, his tongue seemingto stretch and grow inside me, filled with shadow magic, while his tendrils twist my nipples with perfect, maddening pressure. My body can't take the intensity. I grip his hair tighter, screaming his name without shame.
And then I shatter completely—body arching off the wall, voice breaking, control utterly gone. I moan so loudly that the sound echoes down the corridor, coming apart completely undone as his shadow magic pulses through me, heightening every sensation until I'm sobbing with pleasure.
He doesn't move away. He drinks in every drop of my release like it's nectar.
When his eyes meet mine, his lips are wet with me, his expression absolutely feral with satisfaction.
