Page 59 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Cypress was too far gone, though. Too far gone to care that she was naked and spread over top of him, or that Torren’s erection was digging into her ass.

She didn’t care about any of it. Cypress only felt Torren’s hands against her flesh, his voice in her ear guiding her pleasure. It wasn’t until his hands moved lower across her stomach–andlower that the agony of the Pixie wine dulled. Torren’s fingers danced along her skin, orchestrating ecstasy.

Cypress’s head fell back on his shoulder, one of her hands reaching back to tangle in his hair. She couldn’t help it.

“Please, Torren,” She moaned and rocked her hips, impatient for him tofixit–the heat in her veins, the pulse echoing between her legs.

He let out a groan in her ear, and then his fingers were soft against her center, rubbing in slow, light circles.

Cypress almost left the bed, her back arching on the contact, a moan vibrating in her throat.

Fingers crooked inside of her, Torren made Cypress see stars, pleasure rippling through her veins over and over again.

For every scream she made, every moan he dragged from her throat, Torren begged for more. For her to be louder, for her to cum again for him. And she did.

Torren coaxed release from her, pleasure reverberating through her veins until the moon had disappeared and the entire of Faerie was sleeping– except for them.

20

Painted Release

Torrenclosedtheplumdoor to Cypress’s rooms and took a deep breath. His heart was beating wildly, as if it would gallop straight out of his chest. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.

She was still so close, her door only an arms length away from where he sat. Torren was tempted to go back through that door and lock them in together for the next several days.

The effects of the pixie wine were, mercifully, satiated for Cypress and himself. Mercifully, or unfortunately he couldn't quite tell.

Torren struggled to recall if he had ever gotten off on the sounds a woman made alone. The feel of her clenching around his fingers, the resulting gush of her release.

The front of his pants was slick with Cypress. And, the inside of his pants was painted in his own release.

Hours ago, when she came so violently around his fingers, screaming his name with her hand tangled in his hair, Torren had exploded.

Mother above, he almost felt like he could do it again just thinking about how she’d felt, the tilt of her lips and flush of her skin as she screamed his name.

Sighing, Torren collected himself and stood. Then, he forced himself to walk the remaining distance to his rooms.

Exhaustion made his limbs feel heavy and useless, but Torren doubted he would get any sleep.

Not after that.

21

Rhoham Brook

Oncemoreontheroad, Cypress kept quiet as Torren led their horses deeper into the Wylds. He’d traded the mount given to him by the Keep for his own mount at A'aravos Paravale. This horse was also a buckskin like Seren, but without the sooty cast Cypress’s horse carried.

Try as she might, Cypress struggled to keep her thoughts on her task and where Torren was leading her. Time and time again, her mind would drift back to the previous night. Cypress trusted the thief, that much painfully obvious after what they’d done, after the things she let Torren do to her.

But what did that mean?

Surely the only reason she had been able to trust the male was that they shared an oath of honesty, right?

Cypress didn’t want to think about that, though. Didn’t want to dwell on how he’d coaxed pleasure from her without taking anything for himself.

But, did his lack of attempts at more mean he thought her repulsive, though? Had Torren felt sick while bringing Cypress to the edge over and over again?

Rolling her shoulders, Cypress sat taller in her saddle, resolute to cast those thoughts from her mind.