Page 157 of Brimstone

Tal hissed on the other side of the door. “You know I can hear you in there. Sinners, I’ll be waiting at the end of the hall.”

Saeris whimpered, pushing back against me, rubbing her ass against my increasingly painful erection. I let her do it, ignoring the way my own desire burned brighter, and the way my cock was begging for attention. This was abouther, not me. There would be plenty of other opportunities where the roles might be reversed, but for now . . .

Saeris was starting to shake.

I plunged my fingers up inside her, snarling with satisfaction at the low moan she let out. “I’m going to make you come now. And for the rest of the night, anyone who comes within five feet of you will scent the orgasm I’m about to give to you.”

Yes, it was primal.

Yes, it was petty.

No, it wasnotvery progressive of me to want to mark her in this way.

I didn’t fucking care.

This female, who shone brighter than the suns of her home and mine combined, wasmymate, and every single member of this court would be reminded of that fact.

“Oh my gods,” Saeris panted.

“Good?”

She nodded.

I turned into her, pressing my mouth right up against the shell of her ear. “Watch my hand,” I breathed. “Watch me fucking you with my fingers. See how pretty your pussy looks like this, cupped in my palm. Do you see?”

My hand shielded most of her, but there it was, every few seconds: a glimpse of delicate coral pink.

Saeris moaned, her fingers digging into the rustling fabric of her skirts. “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes!”

Trembling became shaking. Shaking became full-body convulsions.

She was close.

“Now look at me,” I demanded. “Don’t close your eyes. Listen. I want to feel you clenching around my fingers, Saeris Fane. I want to feel that burst of sweet, wet heat in my hand when you come apart. Do it for me. That’s it. Do it now.”

She clenched, her jaw locking, nostrils flaring . . . and she came.

As she did so, threads of black swirled down my arm and spread from my skin to hers. Not magic, but ink. Another tattoo. Beautiful roses bloomed across the tops of her thighs as she moaned—an entire bouquet’s worth, shaded with delicate dot work yet still stark against the pale, creamy perfection of her thighs.

The untamed beast inside me roared as she released a wordless, desperate cry, clinging to my arm, grinding herself into my hand, and rolling her hips.

“That’s it. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.”

She let go of another cry. The sound was unrestrained and beautiful, fucking music to my ears, so guttural and free, and then she was done.

“Holy fucking hell . . . I . . . I . . .” She tried to support her own weight, leaning forward, but she tottered on her heels, nearly losing her balance.

“Steady, Osha.” I caged her loosely in my arms, supporting her as if she was drunk.

“Whoa.” She blinked quickly, as if she was having trouble seeing properly. “Those are . . . huge,” she gasped, eyeing the inkwork over the tops of her legs. “But . . .beautiful.”

Grinning wickedly over her shoulder, I slowly slid my fingers into my mouth. I sucked them clean, winking at her in the mirror. “Don’t say I never give you flowers, Osha.”

“Gods alive . . .” She shook her head, trembling a little. “How am I supposed to go out there now? I can’t evenstand.”

Sohyperbolic. “You’re fine,” I chided her playfully, laughing a little as I helped her find her feet. Once it didn’t look like her legs were going to quit on her anymore, I dropped to my knees in front of her and carefully undid the magic I had used to keep her skirts lifted while I teased her. Moving slowly, I fixed her underskirts layer by layer, making sure that none of the tulle was rucked up or sticking out anywhere. Once that was done, Isettled the heavier fabric of her skirt back down, smoothing it out until she looked just as put together as she had when the tailor had left.

Her eyes still looked a little unfocused when I looked up at her and winked. “Feeling less stressed?” I inquired.