“True.” I haul her to her knees, bringing her face inches from mine. Her body is close enough that her wonderfully hard nipples press against my solid chest. Then I swing her arm around. Pin her wrist to the small of her back, locking her in place right where I want her. “I’m still astounded how you survived twenty-four years in the awful place by yourself.”
This woman is unbridled passion. I can’t fathom how she didn’t perish from loneliness long before Wren dragged her from that miserable tower deep within Blithe Forest.
The brush of her lips is a bolt of lightning straight to the tip of my painfully hard cock. “How could I miss what I never experienced?” She puts her lips to my ear, her melodic voice as soothing as it is seductive. “But I yearned, Dax.” The audacious woman looks me right in the eyes as she reaches between our bodies to stroke my shaft. “God, how I yearned. Every night I’d lie in bed staring into the dark and imagining all the ways I wanted to be touched.”
That deft hand certainly knows how to touchme. She squeezes the fat tip of my cock. Precum wets her palm to ease her slide down to the base. “You imagined it was Wren.”
Her coy grin nails me in the heart even as she continues to work me with her hand. I hiss when her deft fingers slide over the sensitive spot on the underside of my cock’s head. “I knew no one else.” She nips my bottom lip. Licks it. Kisses me good and hard. “I need you, Dax. Not Wren or Quinn.You.” She stops stroking me to take my hand and place it between her legs. “Please, help keep the memories of those lonely years at bay.”
“Rapunzel.” Her name is an ecstasy and an agony. I release her wrist to dig my hand into her hair, letting the silken strands cascade through my fingers. The bastard that I am, I have no business rising above my station even to breathe the same air as this woman. But here I am, holding Rygard’s greatest treasure in my hands. “All of me belongs to all of you.”
“I’ve always belonged to you before I even knew you. To the three of you.” Her sex is wet and warm against my palm. I slide a finger up her seam to her clit. She presses her lips to mine. “That’s nice.”
“Nice?” Itsk. Then I lick the intoxicating taste of her from my finger before pressing it back against her clit. I circle the swollen nub, pulling a tantalizing moan from her. “Seems I shall have to do better, won’t I?”
“Foolish man. You know your talents. I’m merely trying to keep your ego in check.”
“Cheeky wench.” I give Rapunzel’s pussy a playful tap. “Now, be a good girl. Let me have my wicked way with you.”
Rapunzel does as she’s told without argument. Publicly, she is Rygard’s rightful heir. Alone with us, she surrenders to our command. She lies back on the bed with the glow of the firelight accenting the delicate hills and valleys of her soft curves. She opens her legs and stares at me with hooded eyes. There is a challenge in those mesmerizing depths. “How wicked?”
I trace a finger along her jawline. Down her throat. Across her collarbone. Finally, I tease the taut peaks of her pretty breasts. “How wicked do you want me, Little Captive?” She arches her back when I squeeze and tug at her rosy nipples. Then I move farther down, and when I reach her soft, brunette curls at the juncture of her thighs, I dip two fingers inside her. “Is this wicked enough?”
She shakes her head. “Not nearly wicked enough.”
I add a third finger, stretching her, and stroke her slow and deep. “How about this?”
Again, she shakes her head. “Do better.”
“We made you greedy.”
“Aye, you did.” She lifts her hips and releases a long, breathy sigh as I work her cunt in a gentle torment to build her pleasure. I hook my fingers and rub the spot inside her that always elicits the sexiest moans. And between those delightful groans, she demands, “I want to watch you stroke yourself.”
Never let it be said that Dax Stafford doesn’t do all he can to please his woman. I’d give her anything she asks, everything she needs—including my heart. Because everything about Rapunzel is gentle and kind and makes me strive to be a better man. I never imagined much for myself that didn’t involve dying on a battlefield until she stepped out of Blythe Forest, and I suddenly wanted more. Craved a lifetime spent living in the glow of her light.
My hand moves almost of its own volition. Rapunzel’s eyes light with hunger as I skate my hand over my cock. Her gaze is a particular torment. I squeeze the head, then slide to the base. With my other hand, I pump into her cunt, her whispered moans stringing together to form a beautiful song that fills the room.
Her muscles tighten around my fingers as her first climax hits. The flood of her desire soaks me. It takes every bit of discipline from the years spent as a knight not to sink my cock into her right now. Which, of course, is a fine idea—but there’s no need to rush. Not when this treasure is mine to savor at my leisure.
Only once the tension in her body eases, and I’m positive she’s ridden out her orgasm do I pull my hands from our bodies and grab her ankles. Rapunzel gives an adorable little gasp as I drag her to the foot of the bed.
“It’s been one whole day since I last had my tongue in your cunt.” I drop to my knees and settle between her thighs. “Now that, Rapunzel, is a travesty we must rectify immediately.”
Propped up on her elbows, she rewards me with her throaty laughter. “Truly it is, given your talent with your mouth.”
“You mean other than annoying Quinn with my cutting wit?”
Her gaze flicks to the wound on my arm. “Keep taunting him, and he’s going to kill you.”
“Doubtful, but if it happens, I will die a satisfied man having had my face between your thighs.” I give her a wink and a gentle shove on her shoulder that buckles her elbows. “Now, be a dear and lie back so I can pleasure you proper.”
“Forsooth, this is the only thing “proper” about you.” Rapunzel surrenders in a flop on her back, arms at her sides and fingers digging into the yellow linen blanket. The bedding was Wren’s idea to brighten their otherwise dark chamber. Same with the cheerful tapestries that now decorate the stone walls. Sadly, nothing can take away from Dyhurst’s bleakness. The castle’s disrepair is why we chose this desolate location. It keeps John’s watchful eye from finding us.
It affords us mornings such as these when I can dip my head between Rapunzel’s lovely thighs and lick the slick seam of her sex to savor her sweetness.
There’s no denying I’ve come a long way from trawling Lansing’s streets as a grubby little bastard thief. Then, as a knight in the royal army. Now here I am, relishing the affection of Rygard’s princess—its future queen—if all goes as we hope.
But that battle seems far off. All that matters on this stormy morning is Rapunzel.
