“I—Lorcan?”
“Mm?”
He was taking his sweet time with this. I hope we’re not keeping Queen Brenica waiting. “What implications?”
“It means that in the eyes of the Ansi, I’m yours.”
He leaned down and put his entire palm flat into the bowl. Then he pressed it carefully, tenderly to my low belly, leaving a perfect palm print right above my pubic area. Claiming ownership. “And you’re mine.”
I should not like this. I do, though. I love it. My secret thoughts on his lips. There was a pulse between my legs. A rush of wetness dampened my inner thighs.
Lorcan removed the paint from his hands with an astringent-smelling rag. It takes the purple stain right off. Reassuring to know that if I don’t like the markings, I can get rid of them. Then he adjusted his position and skimmed one hand up the inside of my thighs. Obligingly, I parted for him.
“If you want to stop, say so. At any point.”
Mutely, I nodded. Stop? When I’m finally getting what I want? That will not be happening. Still no sign of an impending freak-out. Maybe he was right: the attack in his kitchen happened because it was too much, too soon. This slow, sensual seduction doesn’t seem to be setting off alarm.
Maybe I’m not irreparably broken. That would be nice.
I adopted his pose from the couple of times we’ve been together like this before, with one arm behind my head, bunching furs behind me so I was propped high enough to look at him.
Lorcan’s gaze met mine, then fell back to where I am totally exposed. This is simultaneously the hottest and the most embarrassing thing anyone has ever done to me.
He traced one finger through the slickness at my center. I gasped. The other times he’s touched me there, it was dark and we were covered up, whether by clothes or by blankets or both. Lorcan exhaled a low groan as he parted me. Looking. Studying me. More wetness as he traced a path through my folds.
At least that’s one part of me that can’t look different than I did before. Not that he ever saw me like this. Back then, Lorcan was so shy, he needed encouragement to touch me.
No longer. This new Lorcan is bold. I think I like it?
My hips shifted upward, seeking, when he circled my clit. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his face, watching while he examined me wonderingly, as though I am the rarest treasure and he alone gets to see it. I might pass out from sheer embarrassment; it’s hotter than being thrown into the Mountain of Fire.
He bent his head and licked straight up my center.
I hissed with surprise. It feels so much better than I ever imagined, and I have imagined this alotover the years.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Goddesses, yes.
I inched down the bed toward him.
Lorcan brought his hands up around the outsides of my thighs and went to work, a slow glide building gentle pressure within me. Down to dip inside me, then upward to draw lazy patterns on my clit. Each pass made me writhe. Airless, panting moans escaped my lips no matter how I tried to keep them in. They kept spilling out of me, which Lorcan seemed to particularly enjoy. When his gaze flicked to mine, I swear there were crinkles at the corners. Laughing at me? I’ll never recover if he’s mocking me at this vulnerable moment.
Needing to hold onto something solid, I grasped the side of the bed, and when that wasn’t enough, his hair.
He flattened his tongue against my clit and bore down. I cried out, convulsing as he licked me through the crest. The sound echoed off the walls. When I came back to myself, I decided to never leave this room. Everyone will know what we’ve been doing.
They already presumed we were doing this, so I’m not sure why it matters. Logic is not my strong suit right at this moment. It’s bewildering to go from having to hide this side of me to engaging in sex with nothing more than a thin curtain between my nakedness and the entire world. Tenáho didn’t count. We weren’t doing anything much, until the very end.
My breathing slowly returned to normal. Lorcan rolled up and unlaced the leather tie from my leather skirt. He took my limp arm, made a loop, and secured my wrist to the side of the bed. Then he did the same with the other side. I watched him do this without resistance.
“What are you doing?”
“Experimenting.” Lorcan’s bemusement was etched in the corners of his mouth, a secret, knowing smile that does things to my insides. “Stopping you from pulling my hair out. Not that I minded, but I’m not looking to be plucked bald.”
Satisfied with his handiwork, he sat back. “Still okay?”
