Page 172 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

Fresh tears were in the corners of my eyes. “I know.”

“Thank you for telling me.” He kissed me again, his hand slowly stroking between my legs. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“It’s good.”

He was quickly rebuilding the fire that had stalled in my sudden panic.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed. The corner of his lips lifting. “Now here’s what I want you to do. You’re going to lay back, and relax, and let me get you ready.” His thumb pressed against my center, as he lowered his head.

“You’re sure you want to…do that?” I asked.

Rhyan almost snorted with laughter. “Want to? Lyr, I dream about the taste of your lips. And not all those dreams are about the ones on your face.”

I blushed, squeezing my eyes shut. “Gods.”

“Trust me,” he purred. “I want to taste you. Can I?”

“Yes,” I gasped, already writhing beneath his ministrations.

“Good.” He lifted his good eyebrow. “Now open your legs for me, partner.”

I did, watching as his body slid down until his mouth was right up against my sex, his eyes wide and hungry. His hands wrapped around my legs, pulling me even closer as he pressed his nose to my inner thigh, breathing deeply. He offered a kiss there, and then he was against my center, inhaling my scent, his breath alone making me want to melt.

I bucked, nerves getting to me again. This was so intimate. I’d never felt this exposed, this vulnerable.

“Partner,” he warned. “Don’t get lost in your head now. Stay with me for this.” He pressed a soft kiss over me and nuzzled my sex before he finally licked me from the bottom to the apex of my thighs.

My back bowed, the sensation almost too much.

“Like that?” he asked.

An unintelligible sound was my only reply.

And then Rhyan unleashed himself, and my core pulsed and spasmed. I was no longer in control, no longer able to stop myself from writhing, bucking, thrusting my hips against his mouth one second and squirming to get away the next because it was just too good.

I felt like I could barely breathe. My fingers dug into the blankets, and then they were digging into his hair. The heat inside me was building, growing, coiling into a mindlessly crazed crescendo of pleasure.

I was screaming nonsensical words, yelling Rhyan’s name as my orgasm began to crest with an intensity I wasn’t expecting, a force I didn’t think I could survive.

I bucked, throwing my head back, as his mouth closed on my center, sucking and licking, two fingers sliding into me, hitting the spot inside me that—

“I can’t,” I yelled. “Fuck.” My toes curled, my legs shaking. I had to get away. It was too much. Too good.

“No, you don’t,” he growled. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His arm clamped down over me, his palm pressing over my belly, locking me in place, and somehow it felt even better.

And then I…Gods.

Rhyan was relentless, kissing me, stroking me through every last spasm, and even as the shocks of my orgasm slowed, he continued to lick, almost reverently, worshipful.

My eyes shut, and I was reminded of my first day of training when my muscles had liquified, when I’d been sure I was never going to be able to get up or move any part of my body again. That was nothing. This had melted me.

Rhyan covered my body with his, stroking my cheeks and kissing me, his lips soft and full and slick with my arousal.

He moaned, and I could taste myself on him. I finally found the strength to move my arms and hug him to me. One final aftershock rumbled through my center.

“Partner, you still with me?” he asked, deepening the kiss. One hand moved behind my head, cradling me as we kissed.