She lies beside me on the bed, the blanket loose across her chest. A smile plays at her mouth. “You told me this is what you wanted.”
I told her I wanted to sleep through the night without listening for assassins. I didn’t think it would happen.
As I take in the sheer, fucking beauty of Thyra’s curved lips, unbidden comes a thought I wasn’t expecting.
She is all things to all people.
It was adescription of the first female oracle.
Last night… Right now…Thyra is everything I could have dreamed about.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask.
“Long enough to decide that breakfast can wait.”
The blanket falls away from her breasts as she sits up to press kisses to my shoulder, then to the base of my neck.
She maneuvers toward my front, but I’m ahead of her, putting her on her back, my mouth on her breast, my naked body between her legs, and my hand on her clit…
And then my mouth, my tongue stroking through her wetness, working her nub until her moans becomes cries and an orgasm crashes through her body.
Every ragged breath she takes lifts my senses, pulling me high with her as I slide back toward her mouth, kiss her chin, and pull us onto our sides, her upper leg hooked across my waist, her head into the crook of my neck.
Very slowly, her breathing changes and I sense the moment her contentment fades.
“Thyra?”
“I want to hold on to this moment,” she says, pressing closer. “I want to pretend that I shouldn’t have gotten up already. That I shouldn’t be halfway through studying the scrolls by now.”
I rear up over her, pressing her to her back, a command on my lips. “Don’t regret this, Thyra.”
She gives me a small smile, but the burden in her breathing is undeniable.
Willfully, I continue. “If you’re concerned about time, I can bring the scrolls to your bed. You can read them while I…”
I duck my head to her right breast, teasing her nipple, making her gasp.
“Or, I could carry you to the table and lay you back on it. You can read while I fuck?—”
She pulls my face to hers, kissing the words from my mouth, her cheeks glowing again, a cascade of laughter bubbling from her lips.
I’ve never heard her laugh.
She could be creating diamonds of pure joy in the air.
Fucking mesmerizing.
“You could.” She bites her lip. “Yes?”
I scoop her up and carry her to the table, laying her down on it. Her messy hair frames her face and she arches her back, adjusting her position, her knees bent but together and her feet at the table’s edge.
Reaching for the satchel where I left it on one of the chairs, I upend it onto the table beside her and snatch up a smaller piece of parchment. “This one.”
Her forehead creases as she scans it. “This is a letter from one of the False Queen’s ladies to?—”
Thyra gasps as I part her knees and step between her legs.
“She’s writing to her lover and…hmm…”
