Tomb of the God King

If this were one of those dreadful penny romances I would say the birds sang and the world spun. None of that occurred. The kiss felt warm and good, Lawless' lips firm on mine, opening my mouth so his tongue could push inside. It was good, not offensive or sloppy, but it did not set the world ablaze. I fear we were both far too drunk for that.

I released Eric's arm and put both my hands on his neck, pulling him closer to taste more. The flavor of whiskey overpowered the rest, and I imagine I tasted of it, as well. We kissed for long, languid moments, the heat building slowly, our bodies dulled by good food and sprits. When Lawless slid my coat off my shoulders, however, the world seemed to speed on its axis, everything moving faster, more urgently.

His braces slid right off over his arms, and soon enough I could stroke the muscled expanse of his chest, having disposed just as neatly of Eric's shirt. The hair there wasn't quite as light as that on Lawless' arms, leading me to believe that the man spent a great deal of time with his coat off and his sleeves rolled up. Somehow the idea of him working at some hard physical labor in the blinding sun excited me.

While I was preoccupied with his body, Eric undressed me as well, and before I could blink he pulled me to him, skin to skin. The feel of him shocked me to no end, burning off some of my inebriation. Indeed, the feel of his prick against my belly would have had me stepping back, but for the arm he kept about me, holding me to him while he gave me a look that dared me to argue with him.

I did not. Especially when he kissed me again, this time tipping my head back and taking my mouth like a man plundering a tomb for its treasure. The languor disappeared just that quickly, and so did any lingering misgivings. I joined back in with alacrity, kissing him just as deeply as he moved back to the bed and let his weight pull us down on it.

The coverlet scratched my legs and elbows as I landed straddling his body, and I shudder to think what they must have done to his backside. He made no complaint when I pressed down against him, though, just moaned and licked at my lower lip.

He held me there, hands hard upon my skin, the palms flat as his fingers moved. It was the oddest sensation, almost ticklish, and I squirmed atop him, rubbing us together. Perhaps that was his intent, for it certainly felt marvelous.

We began to rock and I moaned, my back arching and my head pushing back. I could not even bring myself out of my own haze of pleasure enough to touch him beyond putting my hands on his chest for leverage.

I think he might have laughed at me then, a warm, throaty chuckle. 'Greedy,' he said.

Oh yes, I was greedy, in ways that still embarrass me to this day.

Order Tomb of the God King