His lips closed over her nipple, and a sharp, electric pleasure shot straight to the apex of her thighs. He suckled, firm and insistent, while his hand cupped her other breast, kneading, his thumb circling the peak until it was a hard, aching point. She cried out, her hips bucking against nothing, a desperate, empty feeling coiling low in her belly.
He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on her other breast, and her legs trembled. She felt the hard length of him pressed against her thigh, and the knowledge that he was as undone as she was sent a fresh wave of heat through her.
“Nythir,” she gasped, her hands scrambling for the waistband of his trousers. He helped her, unfastening them and pushing them down his hips, kicking them away.
Then he was bare against her. Skin to skin. The feel of him, solid and hot andhis, was almost too much. He was beautiful—all lean muscle and sharp lines and the faint, silvery tracery of old scars that told stories she’d learn later.
He lay her back on the bed, coming over her, bracing his weight on his forearms. He kissed her again, deep and consuming, and she could taste herself on his lips, a salty, intimate tang. His thigh pressed between hers, and she moaned into his mouth, grinding against the hard muscle, seeking friction.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged against her cheek. “Essie, I need to… I need to feel you.”
“Yes,” was all she could manage.
He shifted, his hand sliding down her stomach, over the quivering plane of her belly, lower. His fingers brushed through the soft curls, and she jerked. He stroked her, a light, teasing touch that made her whimper.
He slid a finger through her slick folds, circling the sensitive nub at the apex. Her back arched off the bed.A sharp, perfect shock of pleasure.He did it again, a little firmer, and her vision swam.
“Please,” she begged, not even sure what she was asking for. “Please, Nythir.”
He positioned himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, his gaze holding hers with an anchor’s weight. “Look at me,” he whispered.
Then he pushed inside.
It was a slow, inexorable,blissfulstretch. He was careful, letting her body adjust, but the fullness was overwhelming. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. He was buried to the hilt, and for a moment, they both just stayed there, joined, breathing each other’s air, hearts hammering in unison.
He began to move.
A slow, deep withdrawal, then a thrust that rocked her into the mattress.It was everything.The friction, the heat, the sheerrightnessof it. Each stroke lit a new fire inside her. He found a rhythm, deep and steady, each thrust brushing against a spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
“Right there,” she sobbed, her heels hooking behind his thighs, pulling him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He wouldn’t. He was relentless. His pace increased, his thrusts growing harder, more urgent. The slap of skin on skin filled the quiet room. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her, a spring wound to its breaking point. His mouth found hers again in a messy, open-mouthed kiss as he drove into her, over and over.
His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding that aching nub again. A few precise circles was all it took.
The climax shattered her.
It ripped through her with a violence that was pure ecstasy. Her body clamped around him, wave after wave of intense, pulsing pleasure that stole her breath and her sight. She heard her own cry, raw and unfiltered, as she shattered.
Feeling her clench around him, he let out a broken groan, his rhythm faltering. “Essie… I can’t…”
He drove into her once, twice more, deep and hard, and then he went rigid above her. A hot flood spilled deep inside her, and he collapsed against her, his face buried in her neck, his whole body shuddering with the force of his release.
They lay tangled, breathless, sweat-slicked. He was still inside her, and she never wanted him to leave. His lips brushed her shoulder, then the scar on her collarbone again.
“Mine,” he whispered, the word a vow against her skin.
“Forever,” she answered back with a kiss.
46
Esther
How to Harvest: gather grain, gather donations, and gather the horrified expressions of wealthy nobles realizing generosity is now mandatory.
Esther had only three days after her return to usurp the Harvest Ball and Festival completely.
The leaves were browned at the edges. The air was cool—crisp enough to sting her lungs when she stepped onto the balcony. The city below seemed to breathe with her—slower now, but steadier.
