He made her feel like a goddess.
After he came, he turned her over and removed the tulle with his teeth.
“There’s my Princess,” he told her, sitting down at her side. His fingers trailed over her thigh to the inner flesh, gripping it tightly before moving between her folds. He dragged their juices up her torso, until his hand entwined with hers atop her stomach.
“Nadir…”
She ached from the satisfaction, mouth parched and eyes fluttering. She stared at the ceiling as she laid there, coming down from her high. Nadir simply watched over her, almost in fascination.
“You need food,” he said softly. “And a bath.”
She groaned in response. “Sounds magical,” she managed.
He took her hand in his, and he kissed her knuckles softly. “Tell me you’ll think of me after tomorrow,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she managed.
His chest rumbled with the scoff and smile. “It’s not a command, Nyssa. I’m asking if you’ll think of this after I leave… Or if you’ll mark it in your bed as another foreigner that brought you to your end.”
Her eyes narrowed at the words, and she pushed herself to her side as he leaned against the headboard. There was a glint in his gaze that she couldn’t figure out. A softness she wasn’t prepared for.
“I think I’ll think of you every day,” she admitted. “I certainly won’t be able to eat icing or honey without thinking of you.”
He chuckled quietly as he reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear, gaze wandering over her face. “Is that the only time you’ll think of me? At breakfast?”
Her heart warmed at the look in his eyes. She brushed her hand against his stomach, tracing the vein over his hip, and his fingers stilled under her chin.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get you out of my head for a long while.”
“Me too.” He leaned down and kissed her again, different and slower than the times prior. An ache filled her heart, and she sighed into him. This felt of something she only thought she’d felt before. A feeling passed between them of mutual admiration and want. This was not the lust she’d felt for him upon seeing him. It was not the same lust she’d looked at others with. This was different. This…
Shit, she cursed herself.
Her stomach began to growl, and Nyssa thanked her body for the distraction.
Nadir chuckled against her lips. “Right,” he whispered upon pulling back. “Food.”
Nadir wouldn’t allow her to go down to the kitchens to get food. He brought her over a piece of what was left of the breads and gave her a light kiss on her forehead before telling her he would be back soon with more.
But sleep had taken her before she could finish it, and she wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time she woke again. She was lying atop his stomach, and his hand was in her hair as though he’d been stroking it before passing out. There was a tray of meats, cheeses, and more bread laid at the end of the bed. The bottle of wine had been opened, two glasses poured and sitting on the tray. She wanted to move, to reach out and eat some of the delicious-looking food and gather her wits.
But his every labored breath beneath her lullaby’d her into a trance.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BALA’S EYES ROLLED as she sank straddling onto Lex’s lap, and Lex captured her nipple between her teeth.
The Belwark had kept her promise, and she’d come to the room Bala had been placed in the moment the sun set. Bala hadn’t given her time to even speak. She’d pulled her inside and jumped into her arms the moment the knock had sounded on the door.
A few trinkets had broken as they’d moved across the room, shredding clothes and unable to keep their lips off the other. Bala was so pent up with Lex’s not coming to her the night before, that she nearly exploded at just the taste of Lex on her tongue.
Lex shifted Bala, bringing her leg up. She moved Bala’s other beneath her own, and Bala groaned as she felt Lex’s wetness against her own. She couldn’t stop herself from using the Belwark for her end, not bothering to wait for Lex to reach her own before she picked up a rocking pace and brought herself crashing down. Nevertheless, Lex didn’t seem to mind. Especially not after Bala threw her backward onto the bed and hooked her legs over her shoulders.
“Grab the headboard,” Bala told her. “Keep your hands there.”
Every time Lex cried out her name, Bala slowed her ministrations, intent on making the Belwark beg and plead as Bala had been prepared to do the night before. She would make the Second Sun scream her name as a reminder not to disobey her again.
Bala’s name was practically tattooed on Lex’s tongue by the time Bala was finished with her.
