Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

Rurik snorted in disgust. “I believe the gods have their hands in our affairs, but they’re not interested in every detail—certainly not what goes on between the sheets.”

Or under the table, apparently. Dorian’s fingers, now with free access, slid all the way up between my legs. Whatever disapproval I wanted to convey was contradicted by how wet he found me. The inane smile he was giving Edria changed to something a bit more smug. With well-practiced skill, one of his fingers began stroking me, immediately finding the spot that ignited me and burned with pleasure. My heart rate sped up, both from arousal and from anxiety that someone would notice.

Then, as though wanting to flaunt his audacity, he actually managed perfect conversation while still working to get me off. “Well, if Ysabel wants a new husband, we can certainly arrange that. I have a number of nobles who’d be happy to take her as a wife—or even a consort if she didn’t wish to be tied down yet.”

The teasing fingers between my legs had now set the rest of my body on fire. I felt my nipples hardening and regretted the thin silk of the dress. Fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention to me, though that might change, seeing how quickly I was building to orgasm.

Dorian’s suggestion wasn’t what Edria had wanted to hear, and the grateful expression she put on was clearly forced. “You’re too kind, Your Majesty. But it would be so wasteful to give such a fertile woman to some minor lord. Surely a gift like Ysabel’s deserves … royalty.”

The aching, tingling ecstasy created by his touch was ready to explode. And to my chagrin, I wanted it to. It was a need I had to have fulfilled. Completed. So, it was a shock when his finger moved down from my clit, sliding into me instead. It created a different kind of pleasure, but the move was frustrating, considering how close I’d been. I spread my legs slightly, giving permission for him to return, but he continued thrusting his finger into me. His motions grew harder and faster, but only the slightest movement of his body gave any sign of what he was doing, and no one seemed to pick up on it. There was something thrilling, something dangerously erotic about knowing he was doing this to me with so many potential witnesses.

“You’re right,” Dorian said, face turning serious, as though he was truly considering Edria’s words. “And I know a couple of kings who might be interested. Rurik, do you remember … does the Lotus King have a consort?”

“I’m not sure,” said Rurik, clearly enjoying Dorian’s game. “He’s the one who has the gray streak down the middle of his beard, right? And the slightly pointed ears?”

“That’s the one,” replied Dorian.

And then, without warning, Dorian’s finger—so, so wet now—slid out and returned to my clit with such fierce rubbing that I came almost instantly. I’d been ready and aching, and that touch was all it took to push me over. My body twitched as waves of bliss radiated through me, and Dorian continued to stroke me, long after it was needed. At last, he pulled away and even went so far as to neatly pull my skirt back before returning his hand to his own lap.

A very pleased smile tugged at his lips, though his attention was all on Ysabel. “Would you like me to make an introduction?”

Her expression was cold, her response stiff. “You’re too kind, Your Majesty. I’d hate to inconvenience you.” I hadn’t paid much attention to her but realized now that she’d been paying attention to me. I was pretty sure she was the only one at the table who realized what had happened—and she wasn’t happy about it.

“No inconvenience at all,” he said. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”

Edria went out of her way to move conversation away from her daughter being hooked up with someone who wasn’t Dorian. I barely heard any of it, and when dinner finally ended, I returned with Dorian to his room. My post-orgasm languor gave way to anger almost the moment he shut the door behind us.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” I exclaimed. “You had no right to do that!”

Dorian made a scoffing noise as he carefully removed and folded his heavy cloak. “You didn’t seem to mind. Besides, you’re lucky that’s all I did, what with you showing up without warning in that dress.”

“Hey, I don’t have to consult you on my fashion choices.”

“No, but you should expect consequences.” He moved swiftly toward me, hands moving to my waist. “It was only out of respect for your silly human prudishness that I didn’t just take you openly. Really, you should be grateful.”

“Grateful?” I exclaimed. I sounded outraged, but in truth, the closeness of his body was arousing me again. Jesus. It was like I was always in heat.

“Grateful,” he said, a glint of fierceness in his eyes. “Especially after the favor I did you. A favor you now need to repay.”

The hold on my waist went tight, and he pushed me down onto the bed. I could easily have resisted—we both knew who’d win in a hand-to-hand fight—but I was more than willing to play this game, particularly when he swiftly pulled off his pants and showed the long, hard erection that had undoubtedly been ready to burst the moment he saw me in the dress.

I was still wet from earlier and desperately wanted to feel him in me, thrusting as hard as he had with his finger. But to my surprise, it wasn’t my legs he went for. Instead he came forward and knelt, one leg on each side of my head, and pushed himself between my lips. I made a sound of surprise at this, a sound muffled as he filled my mouth and began sliding in and out.

He was so big, I could barely contain him. He knew and seemed to exalt in it, his eyes holding mine as he forced my mouth to pleasure him. “You can take it,” he said, pumping steadily. “You will take it. I told you: you owe me.”

It was rough and fierce, but we both knew I didn’t mind when Dorian played dominant. Besides, this change in our sex life was kind of a turn-on. Gentry, while not opposed to oral sex, almost always preferred intercourse because of their obsession with children. Somehow, the thought of him exploding in my mouth, on my lips, drove me wild.

I could feel him swelling, see the lines of tension as his climax grew closer. His lips parted slightly, a small moan escaping. Then, just as I was certain he would come, he pulled out and shifted his body down and deftly pulled off my dress. With a tight grip on my legs, he pushed my thighs apart and thrust into me with a hardness that made me cry out and arch my body. It was only a few seconds, hard and fast, and then he came, his whole body spasming as he released himself into me, proving he still had the usual gentry urges.

When he was finally spent, he collapsed beside me, sweating and panting. I found his hand, my own body exhausted for different reasons than his. I rolled against him, kissing his neck and tasting the salt of his skin.

“I thought for sure you’d come in my mouth,” I murmured, letting my finger toy with his nipple.

“Wasteful,” he murmured, running a hand over my hair.

“Is it?” I pushed myself up, looking down into his eyes. I kept my voice low and dangerous. “Are you saying you wouldn’t like that? Letting yourself come in my mouth, filling it up, forcing me to taste you … swallow you? Or maybe you want to come on me? Spread yourself all over me?”

There was a slight widening of his eyes, a rekindling of his desire. He gave me an enigmatic smile. “Maybe. Maybe next time.”

I gave him a playful push. “Tease.”

He yawned and took off his shirt. “It’ll give you something to wonder about and look forward to, something more cheerful than the battle’s outcome.”