They kissed for a long, long time, his five o'clock shadow abrading her skin. She felt it, knew it should hurt, but it didn't. She ran her hands around to his chest and up his pectoral muscles until her hands covered his small, male nipples.
He ripped his mouth from hers and pulled her hands away from his chest and held them tightly while he dragged oxygen into his lungs. “Can't do that, dearling. You keep that up, I think I will embarrass myself.”
The soft endearment filled her heart with butterflies. Shocked, she sucked in a breath and went back for his mouth. He allowed her access and lowered his lips back to hers. It began again. Their tongues dueled; their arms entwined. She moaned as her back touched the wall beside the bed, his body crowding her, invading her personal space in a way that left her more hungry for him.
“More. Callan, please,” she cried softly into his mouth, and he gripped her butt tighter, lifting her into him. She pressed against him and started undulating against him.
He ran his hand up the curve of her waist and landed on a tight little nipple. He rubbed it over her dress, and when he did, she gasped into his mouth and their kiss became wilder, wetter. His hands were shaky with desire as he undid the ropes of her corset and shoved it down to release her twin globes. He took in her small, pale, naked breast into his hand. He squeezed her nipple between his fingers, pulling at her, twisting her flesh until she was panting and pushing against him almost violently.
She broke her mouth free for oxygen and he spoke. “Release for me, dearling. Give it to me.”
Her head arched back; she cried out. He pushed his mouth back on hers and drank deeply from her while his fist clenched her butt rhythmically and his fingers caressed her creamy breast. Kamara's mind was numb and sheer pleasure took over her body. She pushed against him, needing it, needing him. She teetered the edge, but unable to fall over.
“Help me!” she whimpered, her eyes pleading with him, glazed with desire so profound.
Callan's hand left her butt and came around and pushed her petticoat up, up, up, until he was able to snake his hand under the big dress. Sinking one long finger into her underthings, he landed on her glistening clit and began rubbing, swirling his finger over it. In seconds, she was mewling in his mouth, her hips pushing against his hand. Then she stiffened and came hard in his arms in panting gasps. He held her tight, as pleasure beyond any pleasure she had ever known hit her body full force. She splintered completely as the release ran through her.
Her mouth fell from his and her head fell to his neck where she took huge, gasping breaths of air while she slowly came down. His hands slowly fell from her sweet spots and his arms enclosed her completely. He held her tightly as his large body shook, trying to regain control. He lifted her up and laid her on the bed. Her head fell on the bed; she was completely depleted of energy. When her breathing finally slowed, she watched him undress himself completely. Her eyes trailed his body appreciatively; he was such a beautiful man. Not too muscled to be scary—like the king of Salem, she conceded—but not lean either. He was powerfully built.
When he came down on top of her, she spread her legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, he stilled. His eyes lost the look of lust, blanketed with fear and terror.
“W-what is it?” Kamara pulled up, her eyes gazed upon him, filled with concern for him.
Sweat pooled on his forehead, falling in rainy waves across his face. “I...I don't know, but…”
“Tell me. You know you can tell me.” Her hand patted his back.
He flinched like her touch burned his skin.
.
Vetta came out of the palace gate.
The fresh air that caressed her body was supposed to be refreshing. And yet, it did nothing to lighten her black mood. The soft wind of the morning did nothing to make Vetta feel good. Nothing could lighten her mood. Yesterday was a disaster. She’d not only slept with a giant pain coming from her body but also with the knowledge that Danika would no longer be executed—that she was spending the night in the king’s chambers.
Why didn’t anything ever work out the way it should? Why did this keep happening to her? At first, all would go well, then all of a sudden, all would be lost!?
When she whipped Danika, Vetta was enjoying herself and Danika’s pain. Then the king came and ruined it for her.
And what about when the market women beat her up? It only made her closer to the king!
What kind of charm was that witch using!!?
Vetta was so enraged she couldn’t think straight. The king was always in her bed. He called her every time of the day, and she satisfied him! Now it was all about Danika again! Danika this, Danika that!
Angry tears burned the back of her eyes, but she blinked back. No way would she cry for that wretched woman ever again. Instead, she would find a way to get even again. She always did.
The sharp, familiar pinch in her lower belly pulled her out of her thought. She was on her way to Monah’s. It was time for the healer to examine her and give her whatever herbs would alleviate the pain in her belly.
She would also be able to tell her if her mission was successful.
The king had slept with her countless times in the past few days, and she had been taking her fertility pills accordingly. Could she be carrying his child inside her now?
She couldn’t wait to see Monah.