Page 90 of Born for Silk
My body is suddenly a furnace.
I reach up and touch the divot at his throat, wiping a crimson smear down the thick column with my thumb. “You're covered in blood.”
He lets me touch him, but my arm shakes as I hold it above my head to continue touching the sweat on his neck, feel the bob of his throat, so utterly virile, it’s dizzying.
“Not mine,” he assures. “Don't worry yourself. The only thing you need to be concerned with is growing my heir. You'll look so pretty swollen and flushed. Pregnancy makes a Silk Girl particularly needy. I imagine you'll spend many hours sitting on my face while I tend to you.”
“You'll tend to me?”
His smirk rattles my heart. “I'm as shocked as you are by my choice of wording, but yes. I feel tasting you will become an addiction of mine. I'll start tonight while you're too sore to take my cock. How does that sound?”
I lower my hand and smile. “Lovely.”
“Show your king where you want his tongue.”
What? My cheeks burn from pink to red.
I lean past him again and deduce that, as I cannot see the others, they cannot see me.
“Do as you’re told.”
With my heart thumping, my fingers trembling, and my core a warm pool of desire, I lift my dress to cup myself over my knickers. “Here, my king.”
His eyes lick over me, darkening in an instant. “You know I need my cum inside you,” he states, his deep timbre, bottomless and dangerous, rumbling behind a bar of teeth that cage his needy bite.
I press harder between my thighs; the lovely pressure squeezes a whimper from me. “Yes.”
His tongue runs along his lower lip, while his eyes scream his intent. “I'll put it there with my fingers tonight, nice and deep between your swollen folds. That is a kindness. But tomorrow, you will take me again.”
“I understand.”
He leans down and lifts the beasts from the grass as though they weigh no more than the white flowers they have crushed. “Behave.”
As Rome strides from the courtyard, Odio takes to the air, leaving me alone, pressed to the wall while the others huddle together in shock.
Chapter Seventeen
Aster
There is no denying his effect over me. My body wakes way before my mind, warmth flooding my core, my back arching into a greedy mouth, and I’m dreaming, but then…
I’m not.
Batting my lashes open to the back of the veil, a meshed vision greets me at the same time as my consciousness.
He is here.
Between my legs.
I reach down and grip his dark hair, curling my fingers in as his tongue licks up the side of my thigh.
“What happened here,” he asks, a tone as rough as the words spoken. “How, rather, when you’re kept so safe.”
He means the little scars from the branch.
I don’t want to think about Iris.
Not while his breath strokes my skin to prickles of attention, not while his lips approach my core, while the incline of his dangerous kiss arouses me to a wet, wanting mess. I don’t want to answer, but I do. “I don’t remember.”