A Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses 4)

But she sure as hell wanted to try.

Her fingers shook a little as she stroked them down the thick, long shaft. The skin was so soft—softer than silk or velvet. And he was hard as steel beneath. He shuddered, and she lifted her eyes to find his gaze fixed on her hand.

“How do you like it?” she asked, her voice breathy as hot need washed through her. She wrapped her hand around his cock—her fingers barely able to reach around him completely. “Gentle?” She made a feather-soft pass over him, squeezing lightly.

Cassian shook his head, as if beyond words.

She stroked him again, slightly harder. “Like this?”

His chest heaved, his teeth shining as he gritted them. But he shook his head.

Nesta smiled, and when she pumped him a third time, she squeezed hard, letting her nails graze the sensitive underside of his shaft.

His hips arced off the chair, and she pinned a hand to them. “I see,” she murmured, and did it again. Harder still, twisting her fist as she reached the round head.

He tried to arch into her hand, but she pinned him again with that other hand.

“And this?” she purred, head lowering. “Do you like this?”

Nesta licked across his broad head, tongue sliding into the small slit across its tip. She licked up the small bead of moisture already gathered there.

Everything in her body turned molten; a surge of wetness slicked between her thighs as the taste of him filled her mouth, salt and something more, something vital.

“Oh, gods,” Cassian panted. And the words, the groan they were borne on, were so delicious that Nesta sucked his tip into her mouth and grazed her tongue along its underside.

He leaned his head back against the chair, hissing.

She licked up his shaft in one long motion. Rubbed her thighs together as she tasted him, felt all that hot, proud steel against her mouth. She licked down the other side, coating him, making it easier for herself as she put her mouth around him again and slid him between her lips.

He filled her almost immediately, and she glanced down to discover there was enough of him still exposed that she needed to add her hand. “Nesta,” he pleaded, and she made another pass at him, pulling him out nearly all the way before swallowing him again, letting her throat relax, desperate for as much of him in her mouth as could fit.

Cassian’s hand speared into her hair, gripping, and she realized he was holding himself back. Didn’t want to ram himself into her, hurt her, displease her.

And that wouldn’t do. Not at all.

She wanted him undone, wanted him grabbing her head and fucking her mouth as hard as he wished.

So when Nesta took him into her mouth again, hand working in unison, she dragged her teeth. Lightly enough to hurt—just a bit.

Cassian bucked, and she let him, swallowing him down greedily, squeezing him with her hand enough to tell him she wanted this, wanted him to let himself go. She withdrew her lips to the tip of him, rolling her tongue around him, and gazed at him from under her lashes.

His eyes were on her, wide and glazed with lust.

And when Cassian met her stare, beheld her looking up at him—

He unleashed himself.

He couldn’t take it. It was torture, a special kind of torture, to have Nesta kneeling before him with his cock in her mouth and hand and not be able to roar with pleasure. But then she stared at him through her lashes, and the sight of her with his cock between her lips snapped something.

He didn’t care that they were in the dining room, that a wall of windows and doors lined half the space and anyone flying by might see.

Cassian slid his other hand into her hair, fingers twining into her braided coronet, and he thrust up into her mouth.

She took him deep, and moaned so loudly it reverberated along his cock and straight into his balls. They tightened further, and release gathered in his spine, a scorching knot that had him arcing into her mouth again. He was utterly at her mercy.

Nesta moaned once more, a soft encouragement, and Cassian needed nothing else. Gripping her hair, her scalp, holding her in place, he thrust his hips. She met him with each stroke, mouth and hand working in unison, until the slick heat of her, the teeth that sometimes grazed him, teased him, the tightness of her fist—they were unbearable, were all he cared about.

Cassian fucked her mouth, and her moaning had him deciding he’d fuck the rest of her, too. Strip those pants off her and drive into her so hard she’d be screaming his name to the ceiling.

He made to pull out, but Nesta refused to move. He growled, his fingers clamping on her head to still her. “I want to be inside you,” he managed to say, his voice like gravel.

But Nesta looked up at him again from under her lashes, and he watched his length disappear into her mouth. His tip bumped against the back of her throat.

Oh, gods. He clenched his teeth. “I want to finish inside you.”

Nesta only huffed a laugh, and sucked him down so deep that he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the release as she slid her other hand into his pants and cupped his balls, squeezing softly.

Cassian came with a roar that shook the glasses on the table, arcing up into her as he spilled himself down her throat.

She weathered it, weathered him, and when he’d stopped shuddering, she smoothly, gracefully, slid her mouth off him.

Nesta held his stare while she swallowed. Swallowed down every ounce of what he’d spilled into her mouth. And then her lips curved upward, a queen triumphant.

Cassian panted, not caring that his cock was still out, slick and leaking, only that she was mere inches away and he was going to return this particular favor she’d given him.

Nesta rose to her feet, eyes flicking to his cock. The heat in her gaze threatened to burn him, and the scent of her arousal wrapped itself around him and dug its claws in deep.

“Take off your pants,” he growled.

Nesta’s smile only grew, pure feline amusement.

He’d fuck her on this table. Right now. He didn’t care about anything else, about the common space they were in or Eris or Briallyn or Koschei or the Dread Trove. He needed to be inside her, to feel that hot tightness around him and claim her as she had claimed him.

Nesta’s fingers slid to the buttons and laces of her pants, and he shook as he watched them free the top button—

Steps scuffed down the hall. A warning. From someone who knew how to remain silent.

Cassian stiffened, then shoved his aching cock into his pants. Nesta heard the sound and moved a few feet away, refastening that top button. Cassian had just finished setting himself to rights when Azriel strode in.

“Good evening,” his brother said with a grating level of calm, striding toward the table.

“Az.” Cassian wasn’t able to keep the bite out of his tone. He met his brother’s too-aware stare and silently conveyed every bit of annoyance he felt at his timing. Azriel only shrugged, surveying the food the House had brought him. As if he knew exactly what he’d interrupted and took his chaperone duties very seriously.

Nesta was watching them, but as soon as Cassian turned to her, she launched into movement, pushing off the table and aiming for the door. “Good night.” She didn’t wait for him to respond before she was gone.

Cassian leveled a glare at Az. “Thanks for that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Az said, even as he smiled down at his food.