Most noblewomen would be shy with their desire—demureness having been practically bred into them—but Guinevere was as vibrant as a wildfire as she smiled down at me.
Her need was evident and I hardly worried I would burn up with it. Actually, I relished in the idea of it, that if I needed to die, that I would want to do it within this omega’s floral embrace.
“Your pants now too,” Guinevere said, her fingers dancing lightly down my chest, tracing the lines until she reached the ties that held my trousers together. “Lie back.”
I did as she asked, my back flopping into the mussed covers that I had not bothered tidying this morning.
She stood, her skin glowing in the dim firelight and tugged my trousers down.
Brown eyes took in my form hungrily and I felt a purr rise in my chest at the satisfaction that was clear on her face.
“Do I pass your muster, my queen?” I asked, a warmth pooling in my stomach as her eyes trailed from my face to my chest, and finally to my achingly hard cock that stood at attention as if a hound waiting for its owner’s commands.
And Guinevere already owned me.
I was sure I realized it that first night when she came tumbling out of thin air, all curly brown hair and indignant attitude. Then, over the past days and weeks I had become entranced—not just by her scent—but by her ability to wade into the unknown withjust a vigor that I could not imagine replicating should our places have been switched.
Guinevere put a knee to the side of me, slowly crawling up my front, though she held herself high enough so as not to brush my painfully erect length. The ends of her hair tickled my skin, leaving a tingling sensation in her wake as she finally came to hover just above me, her brown eyes serious.
“You more than do,” she answered my question before dropping her face to mine.
I reached up for her, sliding my hands along her hot, smooth skin in an effort to explore what her body felt like without any clothes.
Her flesh was pliant underneath my fingertips, so much so that the skin dimpled as I gripped her just beneath her ribcage and shifted her to lie at my side so that I could continue to look at her.
“You are beautiful,” I murmured, my voice barely louder than an exhalation of breath.
Guinevere’s expression softened. “Touch me then—I can assure you that it’s so much better than looking.”
She pulled my hands from her waist up to her breasts, pressing my palms into her stiff nipples.
Then she let go to let me explore, her own fingers reaching in between us to gently wrap around my length.
The sensation was vastly different from when I did it myself—my hands were callused from many hours of sword fighting and practicing on my lute—but Guinevere’s bore none of that. Her fingers were like velvet as they gripped my length, giving it a small pump that had my hips shuddering.
“Do you like that?” Guinevere asked, pressing kisses along the side of my jaw.
I nodded, gritting my teeth as her fingers tightened one by one rhythmically. She nibbled on the skin of my neck, her teeth testing the sensitive skin.
It was as if I was her instrument and she was playing me beautifully, every time she squeezed her fingers, my hips jerked and my hands twitched on her breasts.
Guinevere seemed to be devouring my every noise with a relish as she threw a leg over my bare hip and pressed her slick cunt to the underside of my cock, holding it there with the palm of her hand.
“Come for me, Gawain,” she whispered, her eyes intent on my twisted expression as she began to roll her hips, her fingers tracing the veins of my cock, almost coaxing an eruption out of me.
Her words were a steely command wrapped in silk, and even though she was no alpha, I found myself obeying, my cock releasing in several spurts.
I watched as Guinevere swiped her thumb around the sensitive head and brought it to her lips, suckling the moisture from it with a low hum.
“Do you enjoy toying with me so?” I asked, my voice ragged as my chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Guinevere’s mouth pulled up into a mischievous smile as she rolled her hips, the head of my already stiff again cock sliding through wet folds until it notched at her tight entrance.
“Perhaps,” she murmured before she pressed me inside of her with a gentleness that nearly made a whimper leave my lips. “Or maybe I just like the look on your face.”
I gripped her hips, pulling her flush against me, the entrance of her cunt pressing against my aching knot that had only ever been touched by me.
Brown eyes widened as they looked into mine, her mouth falling open with a moan that I swallowed with a kiss.
