Page 10 of Bride of the King
She must have sensed that I needed time, and let me trail up the staircase alone, back to the attic. It was just as hot and stuffy as I had left it, the room just the same. I looked at my poor belongings, an echo of the fear I’d once had slipping away. There was something pure about coming back to an empty house, as though everything that had happened had been erased and given a fresh start.
The thought made me want to leave and return to my new life. And so I dug under the mattress until I found my father’s notes, and hurried away, leaving everything else behind. I was no longer Nesrin of Geben. I was Nesrin, Queen of the Rovers, who would create a potion to protect my people. I was ready; I was strong.
But as I left the house and traveled back to the rover camp, I couldn’t help but glance toward the path that led to the river. Perhaps my fate should be left to the unknown. Perhaps if I ignored the river goddess, she’d forget the three wishes she’d granted me and let me live out my days in happiness. Perhaps there would be no consequences for my actions. And so I pushed the dark thought that something terrible might happen aside and choose to live out my days in happiness. For my fortune had changed and my three wishes, if not true already, were well on their way of coming true.
8
Three days later,he still hadn’t returned. A scout came to tell us of the delay, and yet my heart twisted as the camp waited for the return of the king. I poured myself into my work, a welcome distraction, and by the end of the third day, I completed a potion. An experiment. I drank it down, hoping to feel a tingling sensation, a sign that I’d gained additional strength. But there was only the heady warmth of drinking a potion, nothing else. I’d worked side by side with my father to know the first option was rarely the final version, but I had little time left to tinker with it before the need for it arose.
Naomi drew a hot bath for me. I relaxed my muscles in the warm water, but I couldn’t help running the potion over in my mind, trying to determine what I could improve. A weariness sank over me as I thought of it. Time was ticking, and although I should not, under any circumstance, use magic again, what if I did, just this once? But no one could know. I’d have to sneak away under the pretense of gathering herbs and make my way back to the river. Decision made, I climbed out of the bath and I went to my tent to rest.
* * *
I awokein the half light, to his arm curled around my waist, his breath against my neck. “Zander,” I whispered, a sense of relief sweeping over me, surprising me with the strength of it.
I liked that he’d returned and held me so close, giving me a sense of security.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he lamented. “I did not intend to leave you so soon.”
Blinking my drowsiness away, I tilted my head toward his. “All is well, I had my work.”
“Still,” he said, his fingers inching my nightgown up around my hips. “I feel I neglected you.”
“You are here now,” I breathed.
He placed his hand on the flat of my bare stomach, his voice turning deeper. “All the same, I missed you.”
Missed me? My breath went ragged. “I missed you too,” I dared to say back as my heart raced.
“Is that so?” He swept my nightgown up, and I allowed him to lift it over my head, exposing my body to him for the first time.
Every nerve in my body tingled, waiting for him to touch me. His hand came up, lazily playing with my breasts, squeezing gently as he traced slow circles around my nipples. My heart beat quickened, but I lay still, unwilling to break the spell with more words. Every stroke ignited something within. It felt good, better than I expected. His fingers were gentle and brought out the part of me that lay trapped. Desire. Pleasure. My nipples hardened until his touch and my breath because faster.
Heat flared between my thighs and a wetness pooled there. My face flushed with heat, glad for the cover of night to hide my arousal, although my nipples betrayed me. He moved to my other breast, those lazy circles driving me wild. An ache built between my legs and with each touch it grew stronger. That want. That desperate need. Desire. This was what others experienced, wasn’t it? This was what I had been missing and oh, it was delightful. How had I not known? How had I missed out on this my entire life? Sheltered away from the intensity of what could be.
When he took one of my nipples between two fingers and squeezed, I couldn’t help the pant of pleasure that burst from my lips, my mouth open, breath hissing out, moaning as he awoke everything that had been buried deep. The need for love, for pleasure, to be held, to be wanted. It was so beautiful, so powerful, I almost missed it when he trapped one of my legs between his, opening my most secret place to him.
My breath hitched and a gasp burst from my lips. He held my erect nipple with on hand, continuing to squeeze the tender skin, and then his mouth was against my ear. Wet lips nipped at my earlobe, and his honeyed whisper came. “If you ask me to stop, I will.”
“Don’t stop,” I begged and drew in a deep breath, fighting for control as his other hand slid down my belly in slow strokes, touching, tip-toping around my belly button, sending shivers across my skin. Could he feel how hot I was for him, how much I needed him?
“Let go of your inhibitions, just experience it,” he encouraged.
His fingers moved lower, just about the soft hairs. He palmed my quivering folds and kissed my lips, teeth biting, lips sucking. I opened my mouth, gasping as he eased one finger down into my wetness. My entire body shuddered from the touch. He pulled back, his fingertips grazing my heated core, then opening my folds his finger dove inside, exploring, touching, sending shivers of desire up and down my spine. All the while, his other hand played with my nipple, squeezing, releasing, tracing circles, and then squeezing again. He held my body in suspended delight and my cries of pleasure became louder, faster as he played with me.
When he slipped one finger inside, all the way to the knuckle, my entire body arched up toward him. My hips bucked on their own accord. The control I held over my body had slipped away completely into his hands. My skin felt hot, flushed under his touch, and when he pulled out and slipped his finger back inside, sawing back and forth, my hips moved, forcing me onto him. I struggled for my trapped leg to help me move, but he held me firm. When I tried again, his hand came back and slapped my wetness. A sharp gasp from my lips. A slap! But it wasn’t painful at all. Instead, pleasure shot through every nerve of my body and a shrill scream of pleasure came from my lips.
This time he added two fingers, spreading me, pushing me open, readying me for him. He pulled out again and played with my hard nub, rubbing my wetness over it. My chest heaved, and I thought I’d spring off the bed. Deep shudders wracked my body, and I moved against him, wanting, nay, needing more. It wasn’t enough! And even as I thought it, I felt a deep stirring in the pit of my belly. Something was building, growing, and a frenzy came over me, a panic. I struggled wildly in his arms, ragged gasps bursting from my lips. What was this? These sensations, these feelings? Was this what making love was? This purity, this rapture? I thought I’d explode, erupt. I’d never felt such sensations, such pleasure, and with each move he seemed to wind me tighter, move me to another level.
He licked my earlobe, pinched my nipple, and kissed me breathless. I pulsated around him, another scream leaving my lips. I thought he added a third finger, but I couldn’t be sure. I was skewered on him, panting, heedless of anything and everything but the way he drove me wild.
And then he moved, spreading my legs wider and pushing his hardness against me. I reached up, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he covered my mouth with his and slipped inside. I cried out and everything exploded. White hot stars danced around me and the very tent spun as he moved inside me. His body was slick with sweat, but my legs were weak, trembling under him. I cried out again and again as I spasmed around him, faintly aware of his strangled grunts and bliss surrounded me. I wanted more.
9
“I’m sorry about your family,”I whispered in the half light, when I could breathe again. I lifted a hand to touch him, my fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw.
Instead of responding with words, his arms tightened around me. I felt the uptick of his heartbeat as though I’d touched a fragile part of his heart and fresh blood spilled. He was still for a long moment, and I’d almost drifted to sleep when his words came again. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to drag you into this feud. I’m sorry.”
