Loving The Forbidden Prince Chapter 118
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ETAN
She was hesitant, distracted from the beauty of their bodies together by the self-consciousness of touching herself. But watching her small, elegant hand unfurl then grasp her own breast sent a shot of pure lust straight to his groin. He groaned and took hold of her hip, pulling her back as he rubbed against her.
Her lower jaw fell, so he did it again.
"Show me, Ayleth."
She swallowed, then with her free hand, pulled her hair away from her neck and twisted it to sprawl over the pill above her head. "I will," she whispered. "But can you kiss me more?"
With a low hum of approval he opened his mouth at the point where her shoulder met her neck and she sighed.
He didn't let up, sliding slowly against her from behind, his lips at her neck, her shoulder, his hand at her hip, eyes wide open and fixed at the sight of her palming her own breast.
Then she squeezed, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger and Etan groaned when her nipple peaked.
"Try whatever you wish, Ayleth," he rasped, nipping at her earlobe. "See what sets you aflame, and what does not."
She closed her eyes, dropped her head back against his shoulder, and she did.
It was a sight so simple, yet so erotic, Etan almost lost control. As she stroked, pinched, flicked and kneaded herself, discovering what sent jolts through her belly and what did not, he was so transfixed, he stopped kissing her and just stared, jaw slack, his breath shuddering.
Then she bit her lip and shifted her hand to flick with all her fingers, as if she were stroking a cat, but each fingertip passing over the peak. And her breath caught. "That one," she gasped. "That feels… like lightening." And she began to writhe.
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Light, she was beautiful.
"Etan—" she swallowed convulsively. "Can we… this way?"
Yes. Yes. With a tortured groan he cupped her thigh first, lifting it slightly to give himself more room, then flexed his hips to find her—thanking the Father that He'd brought this incredible woman to him, and she was so ready for him.
"Keep going, Ayleth," he graveled. "I will do the rest."
Holding her leg and positioning himself, he waited until her fingers opened, then flipped against the rivet-hard peak of her nipple and he thrust into her, groaning as she gasped and clenched around him.
"Again," he rasped.
He pulled almost all the way out, hesitating for a split second until she flicked herself again, then pushing in as she did.
This time she cried out.
"Light, Ayleth," he rocked into her again, and again, holding her to him.
"Don't stop," she whispered, her arm coming up and back to fist in his hair. Unwilling to see her nipples so abandoned, he slid his hand up her stomach and first pinched it between his thumb and forefinger as she had.
She clenched around him again, and he shuddered.
There followed time… a few seconds, minutes, an hour—he didn't know. All he was aware of was the soft, inviting warmth of her, the cries she made. The way his stomach thrilled when she called his name.
She turned her head and, desperate, he leaned over her to take her mouth, using all of his height and length to reach her, thrusting even as his tongue invaded her mouth.
Then she began to tense, clenching with each roll of his hips, arching to shift the angle until her mouth dropped and her fingers clawed into his scalp.
"I… I…"
Breath hot on her neck, he let his hand trail down her stomach to find where they were joined, and began to play there, more gently than at her breast, the flat of one finger, then two, rubbing and pressing in time with his thrusts.
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Once, twice, three times and Ayleth arched again, crying out, her body shuddering, breath held, then heaving out of her in a shocked wheeze.
He'd intended to wait her out, to continue, to bring her to release again if he could, but she clenched around him, pulsing and his own climax hit him at the base of the spine.
Losing himself for a moment, he pulled her against him so hard she gasped as he twitched and shuddered, bellowing his release.
Then he curled his knees up, under hers, cradling her with his body as his breath rushed in and out and he blinked, shocked by the intensity of what they'd done.
Ayleth, too was panting, blinking, a sheen of sweat on her brow that made him feel suddenly very smug.
When he could think again, while his heart still pounded, he kissed the back of her neck, then laid his lips against her ear.
"That was incredible," he murmured. "You are incredible."
"This is incredible," she whispered to him. "I never knew, Etan. No wonder the ladies of the Court are all so fascinated." Then she turned her head, eyeing him from the side, her brow lined. "How will we ever get anything done? Every time I see you I will want to remove your clothing. It will be very distracting."
"It can be very frustrating when there are other responsibilities, it's true," Etan chuckled, nuzzling her hair.
"I'm not joking, Etan," she said, her voice worried. "Quite aside from my parents and yours, we will have another hill to climb. I may become the first Queen to abandon her kingdom for the bedroom."
"You will not," he laughed, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek. "But we will have to learn how to dance between responsibility and pleasure," he said, amused. "And perhaps we can find private corners throughout the castles where we might… enjoy each other on busy days."
Ayleth's forehead pinched harder. "I do not think I would enjoy laying with you in someone else's bed."
"I wasn't talking about bedrooms, Ayleth," he growled. When she didn't respond, clearly trying to decipher his meaning, he took her earlobe in his teeth, then soothed it with his lips. "I told you," he whispered. "There are many, many ways… and with time I will show you them all."
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