The night we had nearly kissed before, Bedivere had interrupted us, but now there was nothing to get in our way as our lips met.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ifroze for a moment, feeling Guinevere’s lips gently ply mine apart as my mind worked to catch up to the moment.
She was kissing me. I could hardly believe she was kissing me.
Guinevere’s sweet honeysuckle perfume crowded every one of my senses, consuming me as I heard the soft intake of her breath.
I was lost as to what to do next, the speed of which things were moving finally revealing just how little I knew of such matters between men and women.
“Wait—” I finally said, shame welling in my chest as I gently pulled my mouth away from hers. “Before we proceed I feel you should know…”
I trailed off, my cheeks warming. “I am…inexperienced.”
The word felt dirty leaving my mouth and I looked away from the shock in Guinevere’s brown eyes.
“Seriously?” she blurted, her fingers curling into the skin of my shoulders.
I nodded.
Guinevere shook her head with disbelief. “Howis that possible? You’re so charming? And hot? Aren’t women chomping at the bit to get a piece of you?”
A dry, sarcastic laugh rumbled out of my chest. “Gwen, I am the fourth son of a second wife—no matter how well I charm someone, that fact still does not change. There have always been few marriage prospects for me.”
I had always assumed I would die a bachelor in Arthur’s courts as there was no father of an omega, or even a beta for that matter, that would allow their daughters to marry me.
Besides that, no woman before had ever piqued my interest like Guinevere had. Everything from the confident manner that she spoke to the way her omega scent tickled every one of my alpha instincts—instincts that were usually so faint that sometimes I forgot about my designation entirely. I had been living the life of a beta for most of my years, so it was odd to relearn myself now as she hovered enticingly over me.
“Does it bother you that I have not experienced the flesh of a woman?” I asked curiously, hoping against hope that it would not be an issue. I wanted to kiss her again, to taste her lips and let her consume me entirely. I feared that I would crumble into pieces if she chose not to continue because of my inexperience.
But Guinevere shook her head roughly, her dark curls bouncing as she looked me in the eyes. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all. Does it bother you that Idohave experience?”
“Not in the slightest.” I had always known Guinevere would be shared, and while I had no inkling of how the other three alphas in our pack felt, it had never bothered me much.
My alpha instincts had never erred much on the side of territorial—my inner-alpha was just grateful to be near its fated omega at all and was as happy as a just-fed babe right now.
Guinevere’s smile was broad as she climbed into my lap, her legs splaying on either side of my thighs. The movement brought her skirts up around her bare legs and if I reached down I knew that her skin would feel silky soft underneath my touch.
“Good,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck, bringing our faces close together again. “Because I’d really like to teach you all about it.”
Leaning forward, I brushed my nose against hers, my lips just a breath away from kissing her again. “I believe I would enjoy that.”
Nodding, Guinevere pressed her lips to mine with more force than before and this time I was ready for her.
Her tongue was slick and hot as it danced with mine, her eagerness intoxicating as I finally let myself slide my hands down her body to explore. Even through the layers of her dress I could feel the warmth of her skin, the curve where her back met her buttocks, and the soft swell of her thighs.
I was torn between wanting to take it slowly—to savor every moment and burn it into my memory for years to come. I wanted to be the sort of man that could make her see stars, but at the same moment I wanted to feel her desperately.
“Easy,” Guinevere murmured against my mouth as I reached for the laces of her dress, her hand stilling mine. “Let me.”
I was breathing raggedly, I realized as Guinevere eased back and plucked at the strings herself. The top layer of her dress slid down around our laps before she shimmied it over her head, leaving her only in a linen underdress.
Then, in a flash, that was gone too and she sat astride my lap completely naked.
Though her skin was a pale shade of brown, her nipples were a darker pink and stood completely stiff, creating a stark shadow in the dim light. Her hips tapered out in a smooth curve, and there, at the apex of her thighs, was curly brown hair that matched the hair on her head.
She was a picture. Something only the most erotic of artists could paint and bring to life and I knew of no such artist that existed.
