Page 173 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
“Mmmhmmmm,” I said, not sure I trusted coherent words to leave my mouth.
“Fuck, that was good,” he said, kissing me again and again, his tongue sensually gliding against mine, the motion exactly what he’d done between my legs. “It’s official,” he murmured. “You win.”
I opened my eyes. “Win?”
He smiled wickedly. “I concede. The months-long debate is at an end. Bamarian cuisine is far superior to Glemarian.”
“Seriously? You decided this now?”
He dragged his lips over mine. “I just tasted the best meal of my entire life, and it was from Bamaria.”
“By the Gods,” I laughed.
“Mmmm.” He took my hand in his, threading his fingers through mine. “You taste,” he said, staring into my eyes, “like my favorite thing in the whole world.”
My cheeks heated. “And what’s that?”
He smiled, holding my gaze. “You.” Then we were kissing again. He settled between my legs, his cock heavy against my belly. I reached between us, gripping him, reveling at how silky he was between my fingers, and how hard.
He jerked.
“Was that okay?” I asked. “I haven’t gotten to touch you yet.”
“It’s more than okay,” he said hoarsely.
He propped himself up on his elbows as I brought my other hand down to simultaneously cup him while I stroked from base to tip. Rhyan shuddered, throwing his head back. “Lyr. I need you.”
I leaned up to kiss him, feeling his hands move beneath me, readjusting the blankets, adding more padding beneath me as he settled between my legs.
I slid him up and down my entrance, feeling his shoulders shaking, as clenches of desire pulsed through me. With a growl, he grabbed my hands and pinned them over my head. His hips flexed as he controlled the movements between us.
“Lyr,” he said. “Before we…I just wanted you to know. I’m protected. I had the spell performed years ago. You won’t be able to get pregnant from me, not until I reverse it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. I was so wrapped up in him, I was barely thinking about that.
“Good,” I breathed.
“You ready?” he asked, reaching between us. He slid one finger in, then a second, his thumb circling, creating a new ache between my legs. A new need. A new desire.
But I swallowed, my nerves ratcheting up again. He released my hands, and I gripped his back.
He exhaled slowly, reading me so well. “Don’t be scared. It’s just me. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”
I nodded.
“You decide when. Or if you’ve changed your mind—”
“I haven’t.”
His hips twisted, and I started to cry out, but he swallowed it with his lips. “You can tell me to stop at any time. You can tell me anything. If it feels good, if it doesn’t. If you want more, less, it’s yours. I swear.”
My inner walls clamped around his fingers. “Now,” I said.
He positioned himself, his forehead pressed to mine. Our breaths mingling as he stroked me one last time. His green eyes bore into me, and then he pushed in, almost immediately coming to a halt as I tightened.
I sucked in a breath.
“Breathe,” he whispered. “Breathe, and let me in.”
