“Tell me you’re better,” he demands, laying a kiss in the center of my spine.
“I’m so much better.”
His exhale bathes my back. “Thank God.”
The massage continues for another few moments, the air in the tent changing slowly, but drastically. His hands go from healing to exploring, his fingers delving into the back waistband of my skirt, dipping into the crease of my backside. Feeling more desirable than I ever have in my life, I can’t stem my eagerness for more. Can’t stop my whimper when Corbet settles his lap against the curve of my buttocks, that hard bulge separating my cheeks with a slow, insistent grind, every subsequent move of his hips succeeding in lifting my skirt a little higher, a little higher, until the hem is at my knees and he’s still pumping.
“Sweet Gwen,” rasps the king, his thumb still digging the pain free of my neck, his mouth hot and gravelly in my hair. “This perfectly rounded ass of yours is my true throne. Feel what the gorgeous shape of it does to my cock. I’m thick and dripping, woman.”
“It’s plump,” I gasp for no reason, because apparently my brain is addled by his words.
“It’s ripe. And sweet. And generous.” His right hand scoops beneath my body to handle my breast, that mouth of his tracing down to the side of my neck and licking, biting, exhaling his pleasure all over me. “Just like these perfectly juicy tits. All of you, every single inch, drives me mad. My dick has never been this hard in my fucking life. And you came here to take it between your thighs, didn’t you?”
His teeth nick my skin and I cry out. “N-no.”
“No?”
He reels my skirt higher, and though I put up a token struggle, the garment ends up at my waist and I find myself arching my back, hungry for his attention on my naked bottom and thighs. I’m breathless with the back-to-back thrills he’s delivering, his teeth razing my shoulder and neck, his magical massaging fingers, the delicious weight of him bearing down—and now his hips curving to my bare backside and rutting me through his breeches.
“I’ve only to unlace my pants now, Gwen,” he groans in my ear. “One move and you’ll be full of me. You want it as badly as I do.”
Of course he’s right. I’m pushing myself up to meet his thrusts, our combined efforts creating obscene friction of his clothed erection against that forbidden part of me. I’ve never once considered a man might want to put himself there, but there’s no question in my mind that Corbet would put himself anywhere he desired. Even there.
Before I can guess his intention, Corbet yanks me up onto my knees and buries his face into the place he’s been humping me, dragging his grunting mouth over my rear entrance, laving it worshipfully with his tongue. “Virgin pussy and ass, mine for the taking,” he growls, his voice muffled. “I could take you as hard as I need and these beautiful thighs would remain good and steady, wouldn’t they, you fucking treasure?”
I never thought I was the kind of woman who could be seduced. The kind of person who could put aside their common sense for the sake of a moment’s pleasure. But apparently it only takes the right person and all good intentions cease to exist. I’m being run over by the kind of lust that’s only whispered about, boldness taking hold of my tongue. “No,” I whimper when his tongue presses to my hole. “You wouldn’t have to be easy with me, Your Majesty.”
Corbet stills. “I wouldn’t? Or I won’t?”
“You wouldn’t. If we were to make love, which we’re not.”
In a flash, the king is on top of me, flattening me to the bed. “Do you tease me, woman?” His mouth is on my cheek, his knee nudging my thighs open wide. So wide. Baring my womanhood to the air. And I can tell by the movements of his hand that he’s untying his breeches. There’s an undeniable clench of excitement inside of me, even as my mind issues a denial. Too far. We’re going too far. “Are you telling me you don’t want this?”
He grinds his shaft up against my folds, sliding the thickness of it back and forth, journeying over my throbbing bundle of nerves and my greedy opening, which suddenly feels empty, so empty without him. “I…I…”
“You are bare assed and panting for my cock, Gwen.”
“Yes, but I can’t. I can’t.”
I’m flipped over onto my back and I sob in pleasure at the sight of him, this great warrior outlined by the sun setting against the tent walls. He’s the most extraordinary human being I’ve ever seen in my life or will ever see again—and he’s angry as the devil. I’m denying him because I have to keep my virginity intact, no matter the frustration it causes, and the matter is obviously not sitting well with the king whatsoever.