Her fingers threaded through his dark hair, and she cried out again as he drank her, feasted on her as if he were starving. “Arthur,” she moaned again, and he hummed against her, the vibration of his voice adding to her pleasure. He chased her release, dragging his tongue against her clit again in the way he’d clearly noticed drove her wild, and crooked his fingers inside her, finding the soft spot that carried her over the edge until she was coming around him, pulsing with an intense orgasm. He continued working her with his tongue and his fingers until the pressure grew insistent, too much, and she pulled him up by his hair and then his shoulders, sitting up and kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his tongue.
She was breathless as they parted, a laugh escaping her lips. “That was…” She didn’t have the words; they had completely failed her. “I…” And then he was kissing her again, swallowing the rest of what she was going to say.
“You are incredible,” he said, and then she tugged him downonto the bed with her, turning to straddle his lean chest. She stared down at him, marveling at the presence of Arthur Taliesin in her bed. Marveling that, soon, if she got her way, he’d be inside her. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly.
“That I love that there are still surprises in the world,” she admitted, dragging her fingernails down his chest, and sliding down until she was bent between his legs on the bed. “You’ve been so patient. You’re so hard,” she said, leaning down just slightly until her breasts grazed his length. “Let me take care of you.” He grabbed her hand that was on his chest and kissed her palm before sliding it down to his cock.
His head tipped back as she wrapped her fist around him, giving him one, then two gentle strokes that she knew were not enough. She took him in her mouth, feeling sparks of pleasure as he gasped and bucked, only slightly. She couldn’t get enough of the softness of his skin and his clean, salty taste. She loved the way he filled her, imagining the head of his cock pressing inside her. She moaned around him, and his fingers were in her hair, his thumb stroking her ear as she licked his shaft and its head until he was begging her to stop.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he gasped, tugging her up by the shoulders.
Her gaze burned like flame. “Where do you want to come, Arthur?”
He pulled her toward him and kissed her deeply, turning her until she was lying down on the bed. He reached to the nightstand for a condom he’d left there before their shower, opening the package and sliding it on as Maggie watched everymovement, hungry. Her desire spiraled higher as he leaned between her legs and pressed the head of his cock at her entrance.
“Is this what you wanted, Maggie?” he asked, his voice rough. “When you begged me to bring you up here and fuck you in your bed?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, squirming to try to bring him into her more, more. “Please.”
He did not listen, not right away. Instead, he dipped his head and brought her nipple into his mouth again, sucking on it until she moaned and reached for him, but he just kept teasing the head of his cock against her clit. It wasn’t enough. When he released her nipple and then moved to the other, she thought she might die from wanting him to fill her. “Arthur.” She said his name like a curse, and he looked down at her with a wicked grin.
He pressed himself inside her a little bit at a time. The way he spread her was so delicious, so slow, but she wanted all of him. Finally, when she was ready to take his entire length, he seated himself inside her, and they both gasped. “You feel so good,” she whispered, running her hand along his arm.
He held himself just above her, stopping short of resting his weight on her body, and only breathed. She looked down at where their bodies were notched together, enjoying the sight of his powerful, lean hips against her soft, dimpled thighs. When she looked up at him again, she caught his eyes on her, hungry.
“You’re perfect,” he practically moaned, and she flushed as he began to move inside her. “Will you come for me again?” he asked, falling to his elbows so he could kiss her as he thrust in and out of her.
She caught his mouth with hers, sliding her tongue between his lips and meeting each of his thrusts, letting her pleasure build slowly again. She dragged her fingernails up his back and then cupped his face in her hands, feeling the day-old scruff on his chin that had left her skin red in places. The angle of his cock sliding in and out of her was perfection, their bodies creating the friction she needed, and it wasn’t long before another wave of pleasure cascaded over her and she was clenching around his cock. “That’s it. Gods below, I feel you coming,” he said.
She rode the pleasure, trembling with aftershocks, and leaned up and whispered in Arthur’s ear, “Come inside me.” He moaned and then sped up his thrusts, following her over the edge.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Arthur pulled the condom off his softening cock and marveled at the woman in the bed before him. She was all soft edges, swells, and curves, like a goddess in a painting. Her still-damp auburn hair fanned behind her on the pillow, and she had a sleepy, satisfied look on her face thathehad given her. Fuck.
He hated to leave her, even for a second, but they both needed something to eat. It had been so long since they ate leftovers at the campsite that morning. He filled a glass with water and then looked for something that wouldn’t make too much of a mess, deciding on a bag of grapes.
When he returned to the bedroom, Maggie half opened her eyes. “I see you’ve gone foraging.”
“You need to eat.” He arranged the grapes and water on her nightstand, gently pushing a stack of books to the side. “But I’m not very interested in getting out of this bed.”
She opened her eyes completely, and her gaze turned sharp with lust. “Me neither.”
He slid alongside Maggie beneath her thin quilt, and she tucked herself in next to him, resting her head on his chest as he leaned back against the stacked pillows. For a moment, he thought they might fall asleep like this, even though it was still the afternoon, based on the light coming through Maggie’s windows.
They lay in silence, Maggie lazily eating one and then two grapes, but Arthur found he wasn’t hungry. He kept being sidetracked by Maggie. Neither of them had bothered putting clothes back on, and it was very distracting—the brush of Maggie’s thigh against his hip, her breasts pressed into his torso as she leaned over him to grab another pillow, the lavender scent of her soap mingling with the smell of their bodies.
A thought kept coming to Arthur that he couldn’t shake, but it wasn’t one he should be having. Not now. Not when he knew that Maggie was terrified of their relationship turning into something more. But he couldn’t believe how comfortable this was. How easy. Even the friction between them, their disagreements, their jabs, were like a well-worn sweater. And he didn’t know what that would mean if Maggie decided to run from it like she had on Beltane.
After a while, Maggie said in a small, quiet voice, “We should talk about the rules.”
“Rules?” Arthur asked, his stomach sinking slightly. She rested her head on his chest and turned to look up at him, her dark brown eyes impossibly large.
She hesitated, biting her lip. “You are still my colleague,” she said. “My office mate! Not to mention, there are a lot of people counting on us…on you, to remove the pall. Things need to stay professional.”
“Of course,” he said, a little relieved. He knew how Maggie’s methodical mind worked. All Diadhan linguists had a streak of wanting to make the unquantifiable quantified, the unknowable known, and Maggie was no different. Alchemists had the same predisposition, but even Arthur knew there were somethings in this world that still defied logic. “We’ve been nothing but professional so far,” he added.
She snorted. “I’m serious,” she pleaded.
