Page 34 of Propriety (le morte d’Guinevere #1)

Guinevere paced the room for hours, it felt like.

She had changed out of her gown, into something simple and soft.

She had gnawed her nails to bits, plucked most of the petals off of her lilies, and was about to start furiously brushing her hair to keep her hands busy when a gentle rap came from outside her door.

Rushing to the door, she stopped herself from yanking it open. What if it wasn’t him?

Fingers pressed into the grain of the wood, she waited.

“It’s me, mon c?ur .” His voice sounded strained, but it was him. “Unless this is your way of telling me to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

She yanked the door open, a sly grin on his face, visible even in the shadows. Pulling him out of the dark hallway, she folded herself into his arms.

Lancelot groaned just a little, his arm tensing as she embraced him.

“Lance?” She pulled back, “What’s-”

The word died on her tongue.

His lip was busted open, a dark bruise covering half of his left side jaw.

But his smile was radiant.

Gingerly, she touched the gash in his lips, drawing a hiss from him. “What happened? Lancelot, what did he do?” Quickly, she fetched a rag, wetting it in the basin at the end of the bed.

She gently dabbed at the dried blood on his chin, his cheeks. He winced again, but nothing seemed to erase the gleam in his eyes.

Her heart was in her throat, her lungs couldn’t expand. “Why didn’t you fight back?” She whispered, tears gathering.

“Fight back?” He laughed, kissing her fully.

He tasted like iron and steel. Like hurt.

“Why would I need to do that?” He lifted her up off the ground, spinning her around once.

Guinevere clutched at his stiff tunic. “What?”

“Nothing I could have said, no blow that I could have landed, would have outdid your downright denial of him. I have never been prouder, mon amour. ” He kissed her again, leaving her breathless in his arms.

“But he hurt you.”

“Bah,” He waved an arm, cradling her face in his hands. “I don’t care if I get beat to hell every time you stand up for yourself. You made me so goddamn proud today.”

She met his eyes, and was taken aback by the unbridled passion she saw flicker in his gaze. His tongue darted quickly over his busted lip. “You are everything to me, Guinevere.”

“Why, Lancelot? Why did he do this?”

“Pissed off, I guess. He spared Percival and Gawain. Saved it all for his oldest and dearest friend.” He shrugged, pulling his matted tunic over his head and tossing it to the ground.

“What can I do?” She asked, fingers dancing along a shallow cut on his shoulder. “Tell me how to help you.”

“Get on the bed.” His voice shifted quickly to something darker.

The fire that had flickered in his eyes moments ago turned into an inferno before her. “Lance…”

“Now, my queen.”

Something inside her shivered as he commanded her. But she was far from cold.

She backed up slowly until the back of her thighs hit the footboard of the bed. Without taking her eyes off of him, she hopped up on the blankets, waiting.

“Spread your legs.” He ran a hand down his jaw slowly, pupils wide with desire.

She obeyed without hesitation this time, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Take off that damned dress, Guinevere.” He stepped forward, steadying himself on her bedpost.

Her cheeks were hot, breaths coming quick. But she pulled the dress over her head, tossing it on the ground with his tunic.

Lancelot’s eyes traveled each curve of her body hungrily, but she felt far from exposed.

She felt seen.

“Touch yourself.” He said, palming his erection through his trousers. “Look at me and touch yourself, queen.”

Without breaking his eye contact, she dipped a hand between her thighs, remembering how he had touched her the night before. As her finger circled her clit, she threw her head back, eyes fluttering shut.

“I told you to look at me,” he said through gritted teeth. She forced her eyes open and found him with his breeches down around his thighs as he pumped his cock slowly.

“Lance,” she moaned, her voice breathy and quick.

“Don’t stop.”

She slid her fingers across her core, stifling a gasp as she watched him grip himself tighter, move his fist faster.

Spreading her legs wider, she slipped one finger inside of herself, breath hitching.

“That’s it,” His voice raw. “Think of how good you’ll feel clenched around me.”

Guinevere whimpered softly as she worked her fingers, her thighs trembling, eyes locked to his. Lancelot grunted, his jaw tight, his strokes erratic now.

“I can’t-” He ground out, stepping forward, voice rough and breaking. “I need-”

She barely had time to breathe before he was on her, grabbing her wrist to still her hand and shoving it aside as he pushed her back on the bed.

The mattress groaned beneath them.

“You’re mine, Guinevere.” He snarled, grinding against her like he was branding her. He dragged the head of his cock along her slick heat.

“Yours.” She arched into him, dragging her nails down his back. Her gaze darted down to the space between them, pulse fluttering.

“I don’t-” She tried not to groan at the pressure she felt. “I don’t think-”

“I’ll fit.” He gritted out with a noise that almost sounded like a laugh .

With a gentle rock, he pushed the tip past her entrance. His teeth found her shoulder as he moaned against her skin. “Fuck,” He stuttered, hips twitching. “ Fuck , you feel so good.”

Gwen felt full and entirely too empty. She rolled her hips, begging him for more.

“Slow down,” Lance grunted, his hand sliding between them. He circled his thumb around her clit, dragging a hiss from her.

With her eyes threatening to roll back, she grasped at his arms. Wriggling her hips beneath him. “Please, Lancelot.” She breathed, “I want you.”

“Not ready, not yet.” The veins in his neck pulsed with restraint as he worked his fingers against her, warming her up.

“I am .”

That was all the permission he needed.

He snapped his hips up, filling her completely in a single thrust that knocked the breath out of her. He rocked into her without pause. His fingers dug into her hips to hold her in place.A pinch of pain, followed by pleasure that she’d never experienced.

Would never feel again, apart from him.

Tears pricked at her eyes as he stretched her, her fingers digging into his arms. “More,” she whispered beneath him. Her voice had all but disappeared.

Lancelot made a sound halfway between a growl and a whimper, driving into her like he couldn’t bear the thought of a single inch between them. His mouth found hers, hot and unrelenting, their teeth knocking, lips bruising, and still it wasn’t close enough.

She tasted blood in his kiss.

He gripped the back of her knee and hitched her leg higher around his waist, angling deeper… and Guinevere cried out, her whole body arching for him.

He was everywhere.

His hands claimed every inch of her body. His mouth claimed more.

But the way he twitched inside her… that’s what was sending her over the edge.

She was constructed for him.

She grabbed the hand at her hip, bringing it up to cover her breast.

“How could I forget?” He growled against her neck. She could feel the way his lips turned.

His fingers pinched her nipple, sending sparks throughout her entire body. She bowed further into him. “More.” She muttered again as her eyes rolled back.

Rolling her nipple between tight fingers, he kneaded her breast in his hand. “You fit every part of me.” He nipped at her skin, thumbing her peak over again. “I was made to worship you.”

The next thing she knew, she was straddling him, one large hand splayed against her back as he thrust up into her. With her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his cock was deeper in her than before.

“Lancelot,” her voice broke around his name.

“Thought you’d like this,” He whispered, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses down across her collarbone and between her breasts.

He arched her back with his hand, sucking her nipple into his mouth. “God,” Her fingers scraped his skull, desperate for purchase. “Lance, I’m-”

“I know baby, I feel you.” He rolled the peak between his teeth, sending a wave of pleasure directly to her core. “You feel so good.” His free hand pinched her other nipple tightly as he rocked his hips in time with hers.

She did her best to keep up with his motions, but every one of her senses was in overdrive. She couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t see.

Couldn’t think.

“Come on, mon amour. ” He whispered against her breast, rolling the other nipple. “Come for me, come with me inside you.” He pinched harder, his movements becoming more erratic.

Dragging his tongue along her peak, he positioned his lips over her, savoring her.

She pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to silence the utterly shameful noises that came out of her as he worked her nipples, thrusting into her.

He released his hold on her, tearing her hand away from her mouth. "No," he growled, dragging his fingers through her hair to yank her head back. "This time, I want him to hear you. I want him to know you’re mine."

That was it.

She shattered around him, sobbing his name. The world went white behind her eyes, her body clenching so hard it dragged a broken sound from his throat. Every nerve ending burned, every thought stripped away until there was nothing left of her but him.

Lancelot gasped, clutching her hips like he might fall apart if he let go. "G-Gwen-"

His forehead slammed into her shoulder, hips jerking up into her helplessly as he came, cock twitching deep inside her. "Mine , " he growled against her skin, voice raw and broken. "Mine , mine…"

His teeth sank into the curve of her shoulder, not enough to break skin but enough to leave her gasping, arching into him.

“Lancelot,” she breathed, voice wicked with desire.

"Fuck, I… love you," he groaned, thrusting up into her through the aftershocks, as if he could keep pressing deeper, closer, until he disappeared inside her. "Love you — I can’t…"