Page 147 of Prize for the King
“I’m going to lift you and impale you on my cock. Breathe, love.”
He barely gives me enough time to brace before I’m up in the air, his grip sure on my ribs, his thighs comfortably spread. He makes me straddle him with my back to his chest. I hiss when he slips inside, and my thighs shake as I work him in, inch by inch as fast as my body allows.
When I’m seated, my belly full and aching, he strokes himself lightly through my flesh with one hand, the other strumming my clit.
“Watch, love.”
I was so preoccupied with him, I didn’t realize what our knights were doing. Raduna sits with his legs comfortably spread, his muscular thighs hugging a drum. Khay lounges by his side, snacking on apple slices.
Arvi stands in the middle of the free space, his chest bare. He just finished putting away what looks like all of his knives. They sit in a pile on a chair. He raises his arms, stretching, and Magnar chuckles when I squeeze him with involuntary attraction.
“My queen enjoys her knights, does she?” he murmurs loud enough for Arvi to hear.
Arvi looks up just in time to hear my loud moan when Magnar pinches my clit with a low laugh. A look of frustration crosses my knight’s face.
“Do you want me to botch it?” he grumbles. “I’ve spent two yearsdeveloping this dance. It’s fucking complicated,my king.”
Magnar pats my clit with an open palm, then settles his hand on my hip. “Sorry. I’ll be good.”
“The courting dance?” I ask, watching Arvi take off his boots.
“Mhm. We’re going to travel to human kingdoms, pet. Sure, you’re married, consummated, and impregnated, but we need your heart firmly on our side. Let your knights woo you.”
I squirm in his lap, and he jerks inside me, hissing from pleasure.
“And you?”
He huffs softly, cupping my breast. “I’ll dance for you when you love me. Now watch.”
Raduna beats out a slow, thudding rhythm on the drum, and Arvi shakes out his arms and jumps in place a few times, his bare feet supple and strong. He settles into a low pose with his arms gracefully stretched over his head, and looks at me, his amber eyes gleaming red.
“I dance for you,laruna.Please watch me, enjoy me, and accept me as yours.”
I nod with a sigh, admiring his long, graceful muscles, the beautiful lines of his body displayed for my sake, his handsome face. He moves his blunt-nailed fingers as if tapping out a rhythm on an invisible instrument, and straightens suddenly, leaping to the side.
A song pours out of his throat, slow and lyrical, and I gasp, leaning forward in Magnar’s lap. I didn’t realize the dance would involve singing.
Arvi flies through powerful, dynamic movements, his body arching, muscles playing under his skin. The melody grows faster, then slower, and all the time, Raduna beats the drum until I feel the rhythm reverberating behind my sternum.
Magnar rocks us gently, his hand low on my belly, pressing in just enough to keep the fire of arousal simmering between us. There isno friction, no thrusts. Mellow candlelight caresses Arvi’s skin when he falls to his knees, arching his body back, and rolls gracefully in an athletic feat. His song grows guttural and plaintive, and when something wet touches my thigh, I realize it’s a tear.
I have no idea what he’s singing, but the moving melody, the graceful gestures, and his expression, tight and vicious, speak clearly of the nature of his love. It’s deep, heart-wrenching, inescapable. I never thought I’d be loved like this.
I remember what Arvi said about poetry. It seems this, too, is his preferred way to express his feelings. I let my heart open and receive this powerful confession, tears streaming down my face. Magnar holds me close and wipes them away with the side of his thumb.
The final drumbeat pulses through the air, and Arvi falls down to one knee, breathing hard. His body undulates with every breath, and a sheen of sweat covers his defined back and arms. When he lifts his head, he gives me a sharp, challenging smile.
“Mylaruna.”
He drops to his knees at Magnar’s feet and takes my face in both hands, kissing me deeply. Arousal thrums in my bloodstream, and I writhe in Magnar’s lap, his length throbbing. Oh, it’s depraved to kiss one man when another is inside me. I love it.
“Thank you,” I whisper when we part. “It was perfect. I loved every second.”
His smile is beautiful, smug and happy. Before he stands, Arvi takes Magnar’s hand and kisses his knuckles.
“Thank you, my king. You found us a wonderful queen.”
Magnar rumbles with pleasure. “Yes, I did. Great dance, Arvi. It was a delight to watch.”
