Page 107 of Consort's Glory
The memory, along with the feeling of her soft, deliciously familiar body pressing hard against him, made his cock ache. Everything else about her made his chest constrict, as if it struggled to expand wide enough to hold all the love he had for her. “Margot.” He ran his fangs over her shoulder, too grateful for her, too awed by her for words. “I…”
“I can take the lead here, baby,” she quietly reassured him, her voice soft. “Do you want me to talk to you like…”
The unsaid like you talk to me sent warmth through every tense muscle and overwrought nerve. Tenderness squeezed his throat until he couldn’t breathe.
His halfling liked it when he whispered raw words in her ear. Theodore figured that out quickly enough, with the scent of her desire growing stronger each time he dared to provoke her, to tell her how much he wanted her. But Margot was prim, polite; she was used to hiding herself. No doubt turning the tables and taking the lead, being verbal, was hard for her. He could feel that sweet shyness fluttering through their bond.
But she was willing to do it for him, to take that enormous pressure off of his shoulders without hesitation.
“I love you,” he told her, voice ragged. “I love you and I want you more than anything in the world. I’d follow you anywhere.”
Fingers tightening in his hair, she used her free hand to stroke his shoulders, his chest, and down over the tense muscles of his abdomen to rest on the top of his belt. “Do you know what it does to me to hear your voice like that?”
Her fingers danced downward to trace the outline of his cock through his formal pants. Every nerve jolted at the slight touch. Her voice began soft, tentative, but built into a husky murmur as her confidence grew. “There’s this part of me, baby, that looks at you and wants you to take me by the throat, flip my skirt up, and slam into me until I can’t breathe or think or feel anything else.”
Theodore’s heart battered against his ribs. The image seared his mind, made it impossible to think of anything else.
Margot, bent over the back of the couch, her creamy thighs spread for him as he flipped up the skirt of her dress. His gloved hand clasped around her throat as he slid into her slick heat. The taste of her skin on his tongue as he thrust hard and fast. Her soft cries in his ear as he—
Theodore slid his hands around her waist, circling it until his clawtips touched, and breathed hot and hard against the shell of her ear. His voice was barely audible when he rasped, “Fuck.”
Squeezing him gently, Margot continued, “But then there’s this other part of me that wants to just… lay you down on that bed over there and climb on top of you like we did last night, except this time you’re inside of me and I get to have you there for as long as I want.” A slow, agonizing stroke. “Mostly, though, I just want you. I want you so bad it feels like a bruise, baby. There’s no need to feel anxious about this. About us. I would have you any way I could.”
“Margot, I—”His throat closed around a ragged groan. He bit her throat, instinct and need working in tandem to push aside his worry. When she gasped, her fingers curling hard around his cock through his pants, Theodore bucked into her hand. Pressure built, pulling the muscles of his spine taut.
He froze, choking back a cry. Too much!
Gods, but he could not finish before they even got to the good part. He could not. The shame of that, of disappointing his consort, his wife, that way the first time made his stomach curdle.
No, her clear inner voice, as refreshing as cool rain on his fevered skin, rang in his mind. No, baby, it’s okay. We need to take the edge off. You can’t expect to have perfect stamina the first go-around. I promise, it’s okay. We’re both new at this, remember? It’s okay.
He shuddered. Take the edge off?
“Yes.” Using her grip in his hair, Margot guided his head up until they locked eyes. Her expression was glazed but determined, her cheeks flushed with color and her lips bruised. “We do it quick first, then we practice. A lot.”
He could only stare at her. Numbly, he repeated, “Quick first. Take the edge off.”
“Right.” Margot hauled him down for a hard kiss before stating in her prim healer’s voice, “I’m going to take this dress off, climb onto that big bed, and then get on my knees. You’re going to fuck me. No theatrics, no pressure. I want you inside me. Nothing else matters.”
Before he could get his brain working enough to respond, Margot was slipping out of his arms and striding toward the bed, all business. Turning to meet his wide-eyed gaze, she reached for the hidden zipper along her ribs and pulled it down. The rest of the dress came next.
A puddle of creamy fabric lay around her feet as she toed off her little black slippers. Theodore watched, every muscle in his body locked, as her breasts moved against her simple black bra; the shape of her svelte hips, encased in matching underwear; the supple shape of her thighs as she stepped out of the circle of fabric. It took only moments for her undergarments to fall away. The sight of the black fabric sliding against her unblemished skin to drop carelessly on the floor was something even his neediest fantasies couldn’t conjure.
The scent of her desire, like molten honey with a sharp bite of ozone, filled the room. Theodore breathed deeply, unable to do anything more than stand there, watching and aching as she turned to climb onto his bed. Her backside was perfectly shaped for his hands, her spine an elegant bow, and her hair, when she pushed it out of her eyes to look at him over her shoulder, was a copper ribbon he wanted to curl around his fist and pull.
Instinct overcame anxiety in one great, snarling heave.
Theodore was beside the bed before he realized he was moving. Wedging his thigh between her spread legs, he trapped her underneath him, anchoring them together, locking them tight. Curling the length of her hair around his gloved fist, he turned her head to one side so he could give her a ravaging, open-mouthed kiss.
He was wearing far too many clothes, but the feeling of her bare body beneath his, the sound of the whimper caught in her throat, the sight of all that naked skin against his traditional elvish suit — all of it triggered a need so deep, so fierce, it eclipsed all the sensible thoughts in his head.
That need demanded he pin her there, subdue her, make her purr for him as he showed her just how gentle he could be, how much he wanted to please her even as he refused to let her go.
Sinking his teeth into the plush cushion of her lower lip, he used their bond to say, You’re mine.
Margot pressed back against him, the damp heat of her core soaking through the fabric stretched thin over his muscled thigh. You’re mine.
Theodore thrust his hips against her backside, seeking relief from the terrible pressure. I want to hear you say it, darling, he replied, tearing his mouth from hers to bite her unmarked shoulder. I need to hear it.
