Page 142 of Reign

He guided me as I stroked the length of his shaft, adjusting my grip and speed according to Fitzroy’s groans of pleasure.

“You’re a quick learner,” he panted.

Desire guided me—showing me what to do through aches and needs to satisfy them.

After a moment of touching one another, Fitzroy used his knee to part my legs and place himself between them. I trembled—the tip of his cock brushed against my opening while he kissed my neck, quickly traveling along my body like a downhill stream. His lips met the peak of my nipple, and I moaned as he caressed the sensitive skin with his tongue.

“Fitzroy,” I murmured, wanting him to know that his tongue was unraveling me.

Without hesitating, Fitzroy crawled back up the bedstead. “Am I going too fast?” he asked, a flicker of concern in his captivating eyes.

“No,” I said, pushing my hips upward to meet his. “I want you—all of you.”

Fitzroy hungrily kissed my lips as he rubbed his tip against my sweet spot.

“Are you certain?” he mumbled into my mouth, edging his tip in and out of the part of me that ached for him—driving me into a frenzy.

“Yes,” I moaned, succumbing to desire. “Don’t make me beg for you, Fitzroy.”

As his name left my lips he groaned—clearly enjoying hearing me say it while I trembled beneath him.

I didn’t need to beg. Fitzroy guided his cock inside of me, judging how much of him I could handle by how hard I dug my fingernails into his back.

Fitzroy pressed his lips to my ear, gently kissing the lobe before asking, “Can you handle all of me?”

I wasn’t sure—but I nodded anyway.

With one firm motion, he closed the space between us, giving me his entire length. Consumed with pain and pleasure, I buried my face into his neck, breathing in his musky scent.

After the first few strokes, the pressure eased and I relaxed beneath him, moving my hands into his hair. Fitzroy gazed into my eyes while I admired his handsome face. At times, his sharp tongue distracted me from how good-looking he truly was. But while he was deep inside of me—with his only noise being skin-tingling moans—I could clearly see his beauty.

It wasn’t long before Fitzroy was trembling uncontrollably. Quickly, he withdrew himself, shuttling his hand up and down his length as he came across my stomach. For a moment he paused, steadying his ragged breaths before rolling off the mattress.

I thought that now his needs were satiated, he’d up and leave. Instead, he retrieved a cloth from the vanity and returned to the bedstead. With careful, tender strokes, he cleaned me up, then settled down beside me with a contented sigh.

“Come here,” Fitzroy murmured as he pulled me close, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

I nestled my head against his chest, rubbing my fingers through his body hair as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. My eyes flicked up to meet his, and he held my gaze. In that moment, I understood—Fitzroy didn’t always stare to intimidate. Sometimes, he simply didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you for helping me undress,” I whispered, filling the silence.

He smiled. “For you, anytime.”

I nuzzled beneath his chin, closing my eyes as his steady heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

* * *

When dawn broke, I stirred, reaching for the warmth of Fitzroy beside me—but the space was empty. Sitting upright, I looked beyond the bedstead, where I’d taken off his garments the night before—they had disappeared. If I wasn’t nude, I might have believed it was all a lustful dream.

The Silver Witch.

“Good morrow, just Niamh,” Bronwyn called as she entered my bedchamber.

I sat upright, clutching the sheets to my chest, relieved that Fitzroy had disappeared in the dead of the night. Bronwyn was followed by a few other rag-clad goblinettes carrying bundles of dark fabric, which I assumed were my garments for the day.

Bronwyn opened the curtains. “Looks like there’s a tempest over Lyonesse.” She paused to gaze out the window.

“I wonder who’s upset Regina,” I remarked, suspecting she was the source of the bad weather.