Page 35 of The Queen The Fae Forgot
He held my gaze as slowly, oh-so-slowly, he finally pressed inside of me.
The pleasure that shot through my body was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I gasped against his lips, my nails digging into his back as he stopped then, and we stayed like that, the intensity of his gaze never leaving mine as I adjusted to the girth of him, barely pressed inside my entrance.
I felt my body yearning for more, felt my hips pressing upwards, trying to push him deeper inside, but he resisted me, even as his breaths grew shorter and sweat began to bead along the line of his brow.
“Aurra,” he whispered my name again with a groan, his gaze breaking only so long as it took to press another kiss to my lips, before he drew back and met it again. “You have no idea how hard it is to …” he stopped and swore as I pushed my hips up again, his body trembling and his eyes rolling back slightly as just a little more of him pushed inside me. “Fuck, Aurra. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
He grabbed my wrists and pulled them up above my head, pinning them there as he lost control, his hips thrusting forward with a feral grunt as he finally he entered me. Fully entered me. I gasped as his cock filled me, stretching me in one hard motion.
With every movement, I felt my pleasure grow. His thrusts were slow and controlled, but deep, and I felt myself reaching something I’d never known before, something that seemed to go beyond pleasure and into the realm of ecstasy.
My hips moved against him, urging him on, and he responded with a deep growl that only spurred me on further. I felt an orgasm building inside me, the sensations intensifying until I was no longer sure where I ended and he began.
His body pinned mine down, crushed me, overpowered me as he took his pleasure from me, too. His grunts grew more labored, his hands tightening their grip on mine as he pumped more furiously, driving the full length of himself in and out of me each time.
More moans, soft gasps half stained with pleasure, escaped my lips as his pace increased. He’d grown feral, almost, so much so that if his cock was not so slick with our shared arousal, he might have hurt me. But pain was the last thing on my mind as I felt the last of my control slipping away, felt the pleasure rising in me too much. Just then, his mouth found mine again, his tongue shoving between my lips in a desperate attempt to claim me even further as I felt the orgasm cresting. He pulled away again, just as I felt myself hit my peak, and I saw in his eyes that he was there, too.
He slammed into me one final time, his body tensing as the orgasm rocked through him and into me, and we both cried out as we spilled over together. Tears were streaming down my cheeks when he pulled himself from me, finally, and for a second, I saw the fear that the sight of them dragged up in him.
“I’m so sorry, Aurra, I meant to be gentle …”
Before he could say anything more, however, I pulled him into a kiss, only breaking it when my panting breaths were ready to form words. Still, my voice shook nearly as much as the rest of my body when I spoke.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I reassured him. “You were right, Shiel. I’ll never forget that.”
Finally, he collapsed onto his side, pulling me up against him so that I was now sprawled across his chest. His breathing was still labored, his heart hammering beneath me, and I felt a warmth inside me that I hadn’t felt before.
He held me close, his arms tight around me, and I swore I felt him trembling, too.
CHAPTERTWELVE
It was almost insultingthat no one came looking for me in the hours I spent wrapped in Shiel’s sheets.
I fell asleep in his arms over and over, my fluttering lashes opening to see his own unmoving features silhouetted in, first—the setting golden hues of the sun—and then later that silvery blue of the moon that filtered in once night had long since fallen. I tried to lay still because even the smallest shift in my weight had Shiel suddenly twitching to pull me closer. I was already wrapped tightly in his arms, protected in the warmth he’d trapped from that golden sun itself just so he could radiate it into me.
Shiel’s room seemed different without the cast of that western light.Hislight.
The windows were still open, but without that golden glow or the clash of steel from down below, even the slightest sound outside in the courtyard seemed to echo eerily. I could almost imagine the distant echo of fiends far off, the memory of the chase that had led us here, to my court, not so distant to yet be forgotten. I was lucky that those beasts hadn’t chosen to haunt my nightmares. Not so lucky, however, because the things that usually haunted that space between sleep and waking were even more nightmarish.
It was as I lay there in the early hours of the morning right before dawn struck, half entangled still in the arms of the Western Court lord and half entangled in his sheets, that I heard it.
It was so distant I didn’t recognize it at first.
It was like the call of a siren, distant, beautiful, and impossible to ignore. The moment the first syllable rose from the silence, I froze, my entire body unable to so much as move a muscle as it was joined by another, and then another, growing louder until it wasn’t just a string of syllables, untamed noises, but a voice.
The moment I registered it for what it was, I knew exactlywhoit was, too.
I was on my feet so quickly it was a small miracle I didn’t trip over either of my entanglements. As fast as I was, however, by the time my face was pressed to the panes of glass, there wasn’t so much as a shadow to signal my sister, Ada down below. Her voice, already distant, was quickly fading.
As was the one that accompanied it.
That voice was the one that made bile rise up at the back of my throat, because it sounded all too much like mine. Not the voice that I’d grown so used to hearing, but the one that now sounded like a stranger spoke for me each time I opened my mouth.
I leaned forward, prying the window open further so I could lean out into the cool, early morning air to try and listen, to catch even the slightest whisper of their actual words. It was to no avail. All I heard above the slowly fading drone of their voices was the scratch of my own nails upon the glass as my grip tightened in frustration.
Too tight, apparently.
Before I realized what was happening, a high-pitched sound shattered the night. It wasn’t for a second, until one of the intricate panes of red and gold glass fell apart in my hands, leaving the tips of my fingers shredded by tiny lines of blood brough forth by the broken shards, that I realized what had happened.
