Page 18
Story: Pawn
Linnea's mouth fell open in shock, her lips parting in a perfect circle that stirred memories of how those soft lips had tasted.
“Or do I need to carry you again?” he growled.
ChapterFifteen
Her heart hammered against her ribs as Zexx's words hung in the air between them. His command—for that's what it was—sent heat rushing through her body like wildfire.
"You don’t need to carry me, and we don't need a bed," she managed, finding her voice at last. She gestured toward the cushions and furs scattered across the floor, their arrangement deliberately reminiscent of the ones in his tent. "I wanted tonight to be as much like our night in the oasis as possible."
Zexx's dark eyes blazed as he took in the arrangement, then returned to her with an intensity that made her knees weak.
"Perhaps you're more like a Dothvek than I thought," he said, his deep voice rumbling through the tent-like space.
A thrill ran through her at his words. To be recognized as having something of the Dothvek spirit within her—especially by him—felt like validation of a desire she’d never voiced.
Zexx reached for the hem of his tunic and pulled it off in a single rough motion, tossing it aside with obvious relief. "I've been aching to do that all night," he husked.
She couldn't help but stare. His skin gleamed gold, every sculpted muscle defined as if carved from the desert stone itself. The markings across his chest and shoulders were dark lines that curved along the contours of his powerful frame.
Unable to resist, she stepped closer and curled her hands around him to run her fingers along the ridges that traced down his back. Although Dothveks and Cresteks shared the same ancestry, generations of living on the harsh sands had made his people stronger, more primal. Where Crestek men were lean and unmarked, Zexx was all power and ancient symbolism etched into his very skin. Even his back ridges were more pronounced and the skin harder.
"You're trembling," he observed, his eyes never leaving hers.
"You have that effect on me."
His hands found her waist, warm through the thin fabric of her dress. "I've been wanting to see you like this again since the moment I set foot in your city," he said, his breath hot against her neck as he placed deliberate kisses along her throat.
His fingers worked at the delicate fastenings of her dress, slowly revealing more of her skin to the cool night air drifting in from the window. With each new bit exposed, his touch became both more reverent and more possessive, and her head swam with need.
The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like water. Zexx drew in a sharp breath, his gaze traveling over her with such intensity she could almost feel it as a physical caress.
"Even more beautiful than I remembered," he murmured, lowering her gently onto the cushions and furs.
She was weak with wanting him, her body responding to his every touch as if they'd never been apart. His gentle exploration soon gave way to something more dominant, more urgent, as they rolled across the furs, their bodies finding the rhythm they'd discovered that night in the village.
Outside, the city continued its evening routines, completely unaware of what was happening in the chancellor's chambers. That thought alone was intoxicating—that here, in the heart of the Crestek tower, she was breaking every unspoken rule of her position. If anyone knew she was taking a Dothvek to her bed, she would be removed as chancellor immediately, the alliance possibly shattered beyond repair.
And yet, that forbidden nature only heightened every sensation. Each caress of his rough hands against her smoother skin, each clash of their mouths as they kissed with growing urgency—all of it was made sweeter by the risk.
"You're thinking too much," Zexx whispered against her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "I can sense it."
"An occupational hazard," she gasped as his fingers brushed her nipples. "Being chancellor means always—"
"You're not chancellor here," he interrupted, rolling them so that she was beneath him, his powerful form caging her in the most delicious way. "Here, you're just Linnea. And tonight, you're mine."
The possessiveness in his voice should have offended her—she who had fought so hard to be recognized for her mind rather than as someone's property. Instead, it sent a fresh wave of carnal hunger coursing through her.
With Zexx, she could surrender the control she maintained so rigidly everywhere else. With him, she could simply feel without analyzing every potential consequence.
His mouth traveled down her body, his tongue hot and his lips eager. She arched into his touch, her fingers tangling in his long hair as he buried his head between her legs. She gasped as his tongue parted her, his mouth working her to the point of shattering.
When she couldn't bear it any longer, she pulled him back up to her, meeting his fierce gaze with her own. "My turn," she whispered, pushing him onto his back and straddling his powerful form.
Linnea traced the dark swirls on his chest with her tongue, following their intricate patterns across his skin. He tasted of salt and spice and something uniquely his—a flavor she had dreamed about in the lonely nights since their first encounter.
Then she dragged her tongue lower, licking a trail down his vee of ridges. She fisted the base of his cock, a smile teasing the corner of her lips at the memory of its rigid girth. With a wicked glance up, she ran her hand up the length of it, her fingers bumping the raised rings. When a hiss escaped him, she kissed the tip of his crown.
“I’ve missed this.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 18 (Reading here)
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