Page 81 of Prize for the King
“They have all seen you already,” he says, his voice deeper, its rasp beastlier than ever. “I haven’t. Show me, pet.”
I swallow with difficulty. “You mean… I should undress?”
He nods sharply, and I reach to the hooks in the side of my bodice, undoing them with shaking hands. Some slip through my hold, again and again, and I hiss with impatience and nerves, finally giving Magnar a pleading look.
“Could you help me?”
His lips tighten with a savage smile, and he drops to his knees at my side, strong fingers brushing mine away.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He undoes my dress with ease, and soon, I stand in front of him just in my flimsy underwear. My torso is bare, breasts golden in the light. Still on his knees, he presses his face between them and inhales. I gasp when I feel warm wetness, his rough tongue licking a strip up my skin.
“M-my king!”
“I knew you’d be delicious,” he murmurs, hands stroking up the backs of my thighs until they slide under my loose underthings and settle on my buttocks. “I told you I might eat you, remember? I’m going to. Are you scared?”
I nod, panting from excitement so great, it feels like my entire body sizzles with it. Magnar grins, showing off his sharp, white teeth.
“Undress me, my queen.”
He stands up, and I obey, undoing the fastenings of his vest. When it’s open, I reach as high as I can, getting on my tiptoes to slide it off his shoulders. Magnar lets it fall, and I catch Khay’s eye behind him, dark and wanting. He says nothing.
“Belt, Caliane.”
I wrestle with it while Magnar stands still, neither helping nor obstructing me. The leather is stiff, the buckle tight, and I grunt from impatience when it won’t budge. My palm brushes the crotch of his pants below, the hardness there reacting to my touch with a twitch. Magnar sucks in a sharp breath.
“Finally,” I whisper, when the buckle gives. The trousers slide lower down his hips, stopping on the protruding bulge. I take a bracing breath and slide them down, careful not to touch him there. As soon as the trousers fall below his hips, his member springs out, and I flinch away with a gasp of surprise. I thought he’d be wearing underwear.
Magnar takes a deep breath through his nose, hands loose at his sides, and I stare. Yes, it is similar to Raduna’s. Enormous, gray, slick at the tip. There is the knob, and curly white hair around the root. His length is curved up and textured, blood pulsing visibly through the thick veins. I swallow and glance at his face.
“Have you looked your fill?”
I press my lips together and nod. He pushes me down on the bed preternaturally fast, and kneels in front of my legs that hang off the side.
“Good. My turn.”
“Gods,” I hiss out as he pulls my underwear so hard, they rip down my legs.
Warm hands settle on my thighs and spread me open, and I can’t help it, but I want to see. If his expression tightens with disgust or disinterest, I must know, so I raise myself on my elbows, watching Magnar as he looks between my legs.
I can’t read him. The room is quiet save for the crackling of fire and the sharp, shallow breaths of the knights. When I look up, growing more self-conscious by the second, they stare, too, their eyes glued to my flesh.
“Oh, pet.”
Magnar’s expression doesn’t change, hard and focused as he dips his head low. I release a shaky breath when I hear the sound of him sniffing me. His fingers dig into my inner thighs, and he breathes me in, long inhale after long inhale.
He bends lower until the only thing I see is the smooth, white hair cascading down the back of his head.
Warmth presses to my intimate parts, and I jerk with a cry. A demanding hand pushes my thighs further apart until they ache from the strain. Magnar rumbles, a sound so inhuman, my back crawls with fear. He licks me once, twice, and I forget to breathe.
When he straightens, his lips glisten obscenely in the candlelight, and his eyes are so very dark.
“Will you let your knights lick your sweetness, too?”
I shake my head in delirium, knowing I won’t handle any more of this. I’m barely holding on, and it’s not even proper mating yet.
“Cruel, my queen. Let me, then. They deserve to know how sweet you are.”
