Page 73 of The Assassin's Dancer
I can’t help it. The fear of his dagger melts into the feeling of his cock filling me. It’s almost too much to bear. Every movement sends a rush of pleasure through me.
Kaz lowers the blade to my clit, and I resist the overwhelming urge to grind against it.
“Stay still for me, Princess.” He drags his cock in and out of my entrance, pressing his blade against my clit. “You look so fucking perfect under my blade.”
I moan in pleasure, trying desperately to keep from wriggling as he thrusts inside of me. Holding back a yelp, I grip his shoulder. “Kasimir, it’s too much.”
He lets out a low growl. “Are you afraid, darling?” He keeps one hand on his knife while the other holds my wrist against the bed. “I could kill you right now, you know,” he murmurs as I shudder. “We’re alone, and you’re naked except for your sweet bow, and with your pretty legs spread wide just for me…”
“You’d never kill me,” I say. But then I gasp as he lifts his dagger from my clit. The release sends a ghost of an orgasm rushing through me, making my toes curl as I grind against him.
“You’re right,” He grins. “But only because I’d have to kill myself so I could follow you to the afterlife.” I freeze when his blade reaches my neck. “I wouldn’t want any angels touching what belongs to me.”
Shuddering, I open my mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a desperate moan. The feel of his dagger’s cold steel on my neck makes my entrance clench around his cock.
“Fuck, Amaryllis,” he rasps. With a snarl, he tosses the dagger across his bedchamber, and hugs me to his chest. His hot breath teases my ear until he shatters too. The low snarls in his chest turn primal as he slams into me, hard enough to tip me over the edge again.
I scream and arch my back. My ankles lock around his hips. I never want him to leave me, never want this to end.
But all too soon, his frantic movements slow, and he withdraws out of me with a tired groan.
“Shit, Amaryllis.” He flops onto his back beside me. “I didn’t mean to finish inside you. That was just so…”
“So wonderful,” I sigh.
He laughs, but it’s breathy. Like he can’t quite believe what just happened. Not that I blame him. I can’t quite believe it either.
“I’ll make sure to get you the herb tomorrow,” Kaz continues, clearing his throat. “As long as you take it in the morning, it should keep you protected.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I can’t find it in me to ask any questions. My limbs have all turned to liquid, and it’s a struggle to keep my eyes open.
“Come here,” Kasimir says, pushing himself up. He gathers my exhausted body into his arms until we’re both beneath the bedsheets, our heads sharing a pillow as he hugs me from behind. I shudder, but it’s not from the cold. That feeling is long gone, melted away by his endless touches on my skin.
“Stay with me here forever,” Kaz whispers as my heavy eyelids begin to close.
I’m too tired to reply, so instead I smile and nuzzle into his chest.
“I thought you’d be mine,” he murmurs, wrapping his arm tight around my waist, “but instead I’ve given myself to you, Amaryllis. My Ruby.” He presses a kiss to my ear, and another, and then another, until the darkness finally swallows me.
25
AMARYLLIS
Kasimir’s bedchamber feels so much colder in the morning. It’s been an hour since dawn forced my eyes open, but Kaz’s still sleeping peacefully behind me, one arm curled around my waist while his nose remains buried in my shoulder. A small part of me is begging to stay. Begging to roll over, press my face into his chest, and find the same intense warmth I found last night.
But, no. I can’t.
Because last night was a terrible mistake.
The fact that I’m even still here is all wrong, tangled up in the arms of someone who is practically a stranger – worse than a stranger, an assassin! I can’t stay here a moment longer. I need to leave and somehow forget that any of this ever happened. Because I am aprincess, and the throbbing soreness between my legs has nothing to do with any prince.
If Father ever found out…
Silently I detach myself from Kasimir. It’s certainly a challenge. His first instinct as I pull away is to pull me back again, pressing me closer against his warm chest.
Eventually, after a little wriggling, I slip out of his bed and make my way over to my scrunched up gown on the floor.
The fabric feels cool against my hands and even colder when it’s pressed against my skin. But minutes later, after combing through the tangles in my hair and somehow managing to tie the sliced laces, I’m finally creaking open the door to leave Kaz’s room.
