Page 35 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
Rhoswyn
“You okay?” Jaro asks, hands coming up to cup my face. “We keep springing more and more on you, Rose…”
“I’m fine,” I force out. “But… now that they’re gone…” I swallow and turn to Maeve, still hovering quietly in the background. “Explain how anal sex works.”
Lore made it sound like an inevitability, and I’m still not certain that it will even work. That’s an exit-onlyhole, right? I’m curious, but mildly terrified as well.
Jaro’s hands drop to my shoulders and turn me to face him. “If you want to learn about that, I’ll teach you, but I’m not sitting here while a dead female gives you a tutorial. You’re tired, and you need rest.” He pauses, rubbing the muscles of my neck in a massage that’s equal parts possessive and heavenly after so many hours of riding. “And can we make a no spirits in the bedroom rule?”
“You’re in a forest,” Maeve points out, though he can’t see or hear her. “Hardly a bedroom.”
“Shush, he’s being polite,” I tell her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Such a prude,” she grumbles, fading away into the night air.
“She’s gone,” I reassure him. “So… Anal sex. I’m not dumb, I get that it probably means a dick in my ass.” With only him here, it feels easier to say the words. Perhaps it’s because he was my first—and so far, only—or maybe it’s just the lack of Drystan’s judgemental attitude and Lore’s over-the-top enthusiasm. The two unseelie don’t have the same level of empathy as Jaro and Bree do.
Jaro’s eyes darken with a hunger that makes something low in my belly tighten, but his words, when they come, are measured.
“I’m not sure I’m the best one of your mates to take you like that. Not until you’re stretched out and ready, but we can play around if you want.”
He heads over to the saddles and rummaging in one of the bags. “We’ll need oil, to stop the friction hurting you.”
He’s not looking at me, and that gives me the courage to start undoing the laces on my shirt. By the time he turns around, I’m fully naked. I’d feel bad about it, but the cool air is soothing skin that feels far too sensitive, and I want to sigh in relief.
Ever since that kiss with Drystan, my body has been primed and ready for sex. It’s not at the point where I want to scratch myself until I draw blood, but I’m aching.
Jaro blinks, the corners of his mouth turning up as presses the softest kiss against my lips.
“You’re beautiful.”
He pauses, then in a move that should be illegal, bends and sweeps me off my feet, depositing me gently in the soft fabric of my bedroll.
His skin—shifter hot—is the perfect antidote to the chill night air as he settles his hips between my thighs, pinning me with the weight of his lower body.
Saliva pools in my mouth as I stroke his hair-dusted chest again, but he pulls my hands away.
“Lore’s right about one thing,” he murmurs. “You need to get more comfortable with us. If you try to hide what you need from us when your fever hits, you’ll only hurt yourself. This… this is a good start.” He gestures to the oil. “But this time, I want you to ask for everything you want. Don’t worry about your charm, just ask. As long as you’re not asking me to hurt you, I want to do everything you want me to.”
“I want you to kiss me,” I say, self-conscious of the way he’s staring down at me.
He dips his head, obediently tugging my lower lip into his mouth, but he doesn’t slip his tongue inside like I want him to. The kiss is almost chaste, and he pulls back too soon, returning to stare at me.
Fighting the urge to hide from his gaze, I force myself to take a deep heaving breath and fight through the nerves. This is about expanding my comfort zone, and he’s right; I can’t keep being shy around my guys if I’m going to make it through my fever. None of them—even Drystan and Caed—have ever said anything negative about my body. My shyness is an ingrained habit borne from years of closeted mortal teachings.
I’m fae. Fae are sensuality personified. I need to accept this.
“Harder,” I whisper. “I want you to kiss me like you want to…” I trail off, take another breath, and try again. “I want you to kiss me until I can’t speak. Then I want you to kiss my neck and my ears.” I take one of his hands and use his forefinger to highlight the path I want him to take.
“What then?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
I draw his hand lower to my breast. “I want you to suck on me here.”
“Here?” Those callouses abrade the pebbled buds, giving a tease of what I could have if he would just take hold and massage the aching weight of them.
I swallow, throat bobbing. “My breasts. My nipples.”
“You want me to lick them until they’re hard and aching?”
