Page 122 of Reign of Light
My core clenches around his fingers, and his chest grumbles as he presses his forehead into mine, our gazes staying locked on each other. Following his command, my hips move as if on their own, rocking and riding his thick fingers as hard as I can until the pressure building at the base of my spine intensifies. My teeth sink into my lower lip as my hips continue to work. He leans forward, taking my lip between his own teeth and tugging it free of mine. Hunger flares in his eyes, and I can’t stop it. My hips buck against his hand as the last hold I had on the waves of pleasure consuming me breaks.
Head falling back, eyes squeezing shut, I can’t stop the feral cry that escapes me. Weston’s warm palm presses over my mouth, dulling the guttural moans ripping from my throat, which only serves as fuel to the already blazing fire.
My chest heaves as the last waves of my release calm, and my limbs quiver beneath me. When Weston drops to his knees, the pressure of his body no longer holding me upright, I feel like I’m going to fall, but he doesn’t let me. Splaying his hand across my low abdomen, he holds the hem of my dress out of his way, giving him a clear view of his fingers still sunken inside me.
They slide out slowly, hooking in the soaked fabric to pull it to the side. His head disappears beneath the bunch of the dress, and all I feel is the long, luxurious caress of his flattened tongue on my swollen and sensitive core.
I whimper softly, just before he leans back, lifting his gaze upward as a devious grin breaks across his face.
“Don’t make a sound.”
Clamping my lips shut, I breathe through my nose, trying to stay quiet and also slow my rapid breaths, but it doesn’t work. The moment his lips clamp around my clit, sucking at the same time that his tongue flicks out repeatedly, my knees buckle. My hands fly out, reaching to steady myself on him as he presses his face deeper into my core. His splayed hand presses more firmly into my abdomen, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through me so intense that I have to fist my fingers in his hair to keep myself upright.
“Weston,” I pant in a whisper, and he flicks again, before moving down to lavishly lap up the mess he made of me a moment ago. Despite his command, I can’t stop the cry as it rips through my throat. It’s met with a growl that only worsens my need to scream as the vibrations send my inner walls fluttering, begging for his thick cock.
“Inside me. Now?—”
Knock, knock, knock.
This time it’s my hand that slaps over my mouth, as both our heads snap to the door mere inches away from where I’m pressed against the wall.
“Fuck,” I mouth as he stands and drops my dress to the ground.
“Turn around.” His words are barely a whisper, but I hear them. Spinning until my back is to him, he tugs the bodice back into place, his fingers finding the ties and deftly tightening them.
The knocks sound again just as he finishes the knot. He points across the room to the empty chair by the hearth and nudges the curve of my ass. Crossing the room quickly, I sink into the chair by the hearth, taking a deep breath. My cheeks are hot, but I school my features to hide the fact that I just had the face of the First Guard between my thighs, even though I feel like it is written all over mine.
Resting my chin on my shoulder, my eyes fall on Weston, standing behind the door with one hand resting on the handle. His lips twist into a smug smirk and I bite my lip to stifle a smile as he reaches down to adjust himself. Heat flashes in my face again as his gaze holds mine and his tongue flicks out, leisurely licking his lips, before sliding the bolt and yanking open the door.
“Good morning, Tila,” Weston mutters, and opens the door wider. “What a pleasant surprise.”
I roll my lips together, trying to suppress the giggle that only worsen’s with her reply.
“I’m sure it was.” Stepping further into the room, she drops into a low curtsey.
“I didn’t realize we had to meet this morning,” I say. “I would have met you in your workroom like I normally do.”
She rises and clasps her hands together in front of her. “You don’t have a formalized schedule yet, Your Majesty, however, our work today is time sensitive so we must not delay.” Turning to Weston beside her, she smiles up at him sweetly. “You may go, mister Rowe.”
Weston’s jaw slackens as he looks down at her before turning his stunned expression to me. As the captain and First Guard, I can’t imagine there were many times someone dismissed him from a room, especially someone like Tila.
I shove my tongue into my cheek before nodding. “I’ll be fine,mister Rowe. You can return to your chambers and return in a while. About how long, Tila?”
“Should be no more than an hour.”
I smirk at him, and he crosses his arms, trying not to smile. “Should be enough time to take care of what you need.”
“We will finish that discussion later, my queen.” The intensity of his gaze shows all the promise of finishing what was interrupted, as he hinges at his hips and drops into a low bow. My heart stutters as I watch him rise to his full height once more, his eyes never leaving mine.
It’s the first time he’s ever done that, and I don’t like it. He’s knelt before me, when he swore his oath, and back in the throne room, but that felt different. That felt personal and intimate. This bow, this outward sign of the hierarchy between our positions makes a pit form deep in my stomach. It’s too formal, too stifling. Too fake.
And the second he does it, after just having told me we need to keep everything between us a secret, constructs a prison around every real feeling I have for him and he has for me, and locks them away until either of us decide its time to break free of it. I never want to see him do it again.
But I know he will. He has to.
For now.
Tila walks toward my closet and pulls out a small stool that she sets in front of my mirror.
