Page 13 of Betrothed

He nudged his skull mask into her knee. Fawn thought about telling him that she changed her mind, that she was still too injured… but he was panting, already so affected by her. And his mouth was open, his tongue so pink and hungry.

Fawn nodded. Zax let out a relieved huff and bent down, pressing his forehead into her thigh for some bizarre yet strangely touching reason before pulling back to kiss her leg. It was the sort of thing a lover would do, Fawn realized with a sad pang. True lovers who had known each other for a long time and still had passion for each other. Fawn wouldn’t know what that was like.

Zax pulled her underclothes down her legs, careful over her injured ankle. Then he settled back between her legs and groaned, his hips twitching.

Fawn mistakenly looked down at his loincloth. It was mostly hidden by his bulk as he crouched over, but from this angle, she could see it.

Well. See them.

Two huge bulges stacked on top of each other. One above, one below. They were so big they sparked a fissure of fear through her core.

Zax placed a large hand on her stomach, holding her down. A shocking desire joined the fear as she imagined Zax chasing her down as he had done to her husband. Zax pinning her down with these huge hands, ripping off her dress and taking himself—both of them—out of his loincloth. It was terrifying and hot and lovely, and Fawn didn’t understand why it made her clit throb so hard.

Zax pulled back again. “You smell scared.”

“I smell scared?” Fawn echoed, suddenly remembering his words last night. He could smell her pain.

Zax nodded.

Great, Fawn thought. He can smell my emotions. She would need to hold herself back even more than usual. But not too cautious, if he didn’t suspect she was planning to get her revenge and run away as soon as she was healed.

“You do not need to be scared,” Zax soothed. “I will never hurt you. What do you like?”

Fawn looked at him questioningly. “Like?”

He licked her thigh, dangerously close to her hole.

Fawn shuddered. Half longing, half fearful excitement. “I… don’t know. My husband tried this once, but neither of us liked it very much.”

“Oh.” Zax looked deeply baffled by this. “Is it not something mortals do? My brothers say they do it with their mates all the time.”

“No, they do it,” Fawn said. “Just… not me, I suppose.”

Zax watched her for a moment. Then he nodded decidedly.

“Then I will simply do as my brothers told me,” he announced. “Pull my horn if you want me to stop.”

With that, he gripped her good leg, pushed it aside, and ran his tongue up her folds.

Fawn jerked. She had been expecting him to just… shove it in, as Renly had done in their first and only attempt to do this. But Zax took his time teasing her, running that soft, flexible tongue-tip up and down her entrance until she was unconsciously canting her hips for him to push inside.

Then he ran his tongue over her clit, and she had to smother a gasp.

Despite her half-hearted attempts to teach him, Renly had never been able to find her clit except for a few short-lived accidents that never lasted long enough to satisfy her. Zax circled her clit like his brothers had drawn him diagrams.

I’ll have to thank them, Fawn thought, dazed. The thought made her laugh. She was thinking about thanking a bunch of Skullstalkers for teaching their brother, who kidnapped her to be his bride, how to pleasure her. Ridiculous.

Then Zax sealed his lips around her clit, and all ridiculousness fled her mind and was replaced by boundless pleasure. He sucked so softly and gently that she could almost ignore the fangs that brushed her clit whenever he pressed deeper. The light pressure was so unbearably good that Fawn tensed with it, pain racing up her ankle as she clenched her leg.

Zax pulled back again, his tail arching in concern. “Fawn? Is it hurting?”

“No,” Fawn gasped. “Not hurting. It was just my leg.”

She squeezed his broken horn, watching his glowing eye flicker with shocked satisfaction. She rubbed the broken horn tip experimentally, and his glowing eye slammed shut.

He groaned, grinding his hips against nothing as he dove down again. He returned his attention to her folds, his tongue running up and down hungrily before finally pressing inside.

Fast, shallow thrusts got deeper and deeper as Fawn opened gradually around him. Then, impossibly, that flexible tongue curled up, rubbing a spot that Fawn had to discover on her own late-night explorations.