Page 23 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)
Morella
“Where do you think you’re going?” Killian demanded to know as I slipped on my shoes and wrapped myself into my dressing robe.
We’d left the cliffside across the vast valley silently, passing through trees and doors until he’d deposited us in our room.
Without a word, we went about our ways, both lost in thought, both exhausted and preparing for sleep.
But I had a little energy left and I needed a place to think.
Spinning had always brought me comfort in the way the wheel kept time to the push of my foot and the smooth slide of wool through my fingers.
I looked down at my fingers then, feeling for the small blisters forming from spinning straw instead.
“Three spools of golden thread,” I explained. “I will keep all parts of my side of the bargain, husband, regardless of how tired I am.”
He sprinted across the room in his large stride, grabbing hold of my arm before I could open the bedroom door. “We’ve been over this. You are to rest. You can take up spinning again when your body is properly fueled.”
“I’m just sitting there,” I retorted. “It’s not like I’m roaming around a city for hours on end.” I pulled myself from his grasp, but he was in front of me before I could reach the handle.
“Your Changelingfae magic drains you more than you’ve realized. It's why you slept so long even though you had your usual amount of thistle nuts.”
Maybe he was right. I did eat the last of them that day and still I slept through it. “Well,” I started, “You’ve fed me enough of that fuilhe. I think I can handle an hour of work.”
“No, Morella, you will not spin tonight.”
I clenched my teeth and glared. He was far too big for me to ever have the upper-hand on strength, and by the way he planted his feet and folded his arms at his chest, I knew there was no pushing him aside in my future either.
Rolling my eyes, I decided to try again later.
I could stay awake and wait for him to sleep and then?—
“I see you scheming, Goldling,” he added with stern precision. “Let it go. It doesn’t change anything in our bargain if you miss a few days.” His smile was all teeth as he leaned forward. “Maybe I’ll have you make up the days you miss.”
I scrunched my face in annoyance, nodding slowly, pretending defeat.
“Fine. You win.” I pulled the tie off my robe and turned, striding across the room and tossing the creamy lace over my dressing screen.
Without another word, I calmly folded back my bedding and slid between my sheets, blowing out the candle at the table between our beds and offering a simple, “Goodnight.”
I nestled down, turned away from where I heard him walk across the room, approach my bed and light the match.
I bolted upright, irritated, tired, and out of patience with his little games. “What in all of fucking Revelry are you?—”
He lit the candle and leaned in, his lips hovering over mine. “I have not kissed you goodnight, and I will not do so in the dark.”
His head tilted and I laughed, scooting back and away, missing his kiss. “No spinning, no kiss.”
“Morella,” he grumbled.
My heart raced beneath my ribs. I had him. I actually finally had him. He wanted to kiss me goodnight. My plan had worked, it seemed, but now, I was annoyed. Men, in my short experience, were blundering fools who didn’t recognize their own desires until they didn’t have access to them.
I shook my head, holding back a smile and repeating his own words. “No, Killian, you will not kiss my lips tonight.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and his eyes narrowed. “You’d use my words against me?”
I lifted my chin, unable to hold back my grin of triumph in our little play of control. “I believe I just did.”
A hearty laugh left his chest and he threw back my sheets, finding my legs and tugging under my knees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. He fit himself between them, lowering to the floor.
“What in the fucking hells are you doing!” I shouted, attempting to wiggle out of his hold.
Wrapping my legs around his torso, he held them to his sides. “Our bargain said I would kiss you goodnight every night. It was you who never specified where.”
My eyes grew to the size of saucers as he slipped his hands under my nightgown, bunching the crimson fabric to my waist. At his touch, my skin prickled and my belly folded in on itself, tightening in a painful yearning.
He kissed the inside of my knee softly, meeting my eyes.
“Now that can count as my kiss goodnight.” He smoothed his hand up my thigh, slipping his fingers under the band of my silk undergarments.
“But if you’d let me,” he continued, trailing more kisses along my skin, “I have another place in mind.”
A half moan escaped my throat as he reached the apex of my thighs, softly pressing his lips to the fabric separating him from my most tense bundle of nerves.
Lowering himself further on the floor, he kept my gaze, bringing more of his mouth over me.
The silk bunched against my skin and another squeak left my chest.
“Have you ever been kissed here, Moh Dhóches?”
I felt the heat of his breath at the question and I shook my head, watching in fascination as he slowly pulled the fabric from my body, exposing me to the dim light and his own eyes as he devoured me whole.
“Banabh brèagha,” he whispered.
Beautiful woman.
His grip on my legs tightened as he pulled me even closer to the edge of the bed.
“I—”
He looked up at me from the floor. “Tell me if you don’t want me here.”
“I do!” I cried. “I just… I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
At that, he lifted himself, wrapping his arms around my waist and meeting me face-to-face. “Are you untouched, Morella?”
“No!” I laughed nervously, adding, “I’ve had sex before!”
Rubbing my back softly, he asked, “How many times?”
“Twice.”
“With the same person?”
I nodded, refusing to look away. “Brekkan Dioltry. We were nineteen.”
“Brekkan?” He frowned. “What kind of name is Brekkan?”
“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” I snapped. “You have no business judging names.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “And did you enjoy Brekkan Dioltry’s company in bed?”
I swallowed hard, feeling every place he touched me like fire. “No,” I whispered.
His hands inched me even closer. “And when you touch yourself, Morella, do you enjoy it then?”
I hadn’t noticed how close his face had gotten to mine. He hovered over my lips. “Sometimes,” I breathed between us.
He slid his fingers down my arm, taking my hand in his. “Show me where.”
I took it, sliding his fingers down my chest, to my stomach, tightly coiled, until I pressed them to the most sensitive part of my body. The one place I’d explored and the only place I really knew could undo me.
He pressed his thumb to my clit, circling in slow motions and I released a soft moan from my lips.
“Is this the only place?” he asked, watching my face with a dark heat that would consume me if I didn’t keep my wits.
“Yes.”
He nodded, continuing his touch. “There’s more to discover.
But let’s start here.” Kissing my chest, he followed the pattern of my nightgown, settling down again on the floor between my legs.
“All you need to do is tell me if you like or don’t like what I’m doing.
Give into your body’s response and tell me to stop if you want me to stop.
There are no rules other than what you decide. ”
Nodding, I shifted, my legs opening wide as he wrapped his arms around them, first smoothing his hands over everything exposed before him.
“I-I like that,” I managed to breathe.
His eyes of brilliant blue heated beneath me as his fingers trailed over me again. “Good girl, Morella. And this?”
Spreading me open with one hand, I gasped as his mouth covered my skin.
His tongue pressed gently, sending fire through my bones, spreading pleasure through my veins, and I could not imagine more bliss than this.
There could not be more than this single moment when his mouth pulled away gently, softly sucking my clit between his lips.
As his gaze reached mine, I felt the cruel, cold sting of air.
I wanted heat. I needed the warmth of his mouth.
More, more, more, until I was sick of it. Until I had to crawl away just to survive the onslaught of pleasure my husband could bring to what was slick between my thighs.
“Again,” I begged, reaching out to pull him back in. “Do it again.”