Vow of the Shadow King (Bride of the Shadow King Book 2)

Vor shifts on the bed. It’s so narrow, I fear there won’t be room for him, for what he is about to do. But he moves with leonine grace, easing himself down, lowering his head to press his lips against my abdomen.

Then he ventures lower still. And lower. Now his mouth is hot against the soft skin of my inner thighs. Each kiss is a brand, searing me with pleasure. I burn at his touch and long only to be consumed in this flame.

Then he’s not kissing me. Instead, his tongue is moving. Licking. First against my legs, and then . . .

My breath catches in my throat. Reaching out, I touch the top of his head with one hand. I try to speak, but my words melt away in a little squeak of surprise. He looks up at me, along the length of my hot, quivering body. His lips hover just over my core.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, grinning roguishly, his lips full, his teeth flashing.

I’m panting too hard to speak. Do I trust him? I don’t know.

His brow puckers, and the smile vanishes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” I shake my head so hard, strands of hair fall across my eyes. I push them back hastily. My chest rises and falls, unable to draw a full breath. “Oh, gods, no. No.” Please, don’t stop.

His smile returns, devasting and beautiful enough to stop my heart. “I’m going to make you soar, Faraine,” he murmurs.

Then he lowers his mouth. Kisses me.

Licks me.

One stroke, and I gasp.

Another, and I bleat his name: “Vor!”

A third, and I fall back on my pillow.

I am his. Wholly and completely. I’ve given up whatever control I thought I had, placed myself in his hands, in his keeping.

And now, he makes me new.

Again and again, he strokes me, creating a rhythm just for us. I whimper. My fingers grip the blankets, my knuckles white and tense. My hips move in time to his tempo, back and forth, chasing something I don’t understand but feel flitting there, on the edge of my awareness. So close. A bird beating its wings against the bars.

Part of me is afraid. Afraid to give in. Afraid of the release I long for. Afraid to let my walls down, to let my soul fly free.

It’s safe in the cage. It’s safe in hiding.

But there’s no hiding. Not anymore. I am here, bare, vulnerable. And his.

I can try to hold onto the last fraying threads of control, or I can . . . let go.

I cry out. My back arches and my body spasms as something bursts inside of me. Something that soars and spins dizzyingly high to the heavens, beyond this world of stone. I quake, unable to breathe, as waves of pleasure pulse through me. A deep, guttural moan erupts from my throat as I twist, turn, writhe, all while his hands hold my hips firmly in place.

He doesn’t stop. Not even when I grip the top of his head once more. And just when I think the ecstasy has passed, just when I think I’m about to come back down to earth again, another powerful updraft sends me soaring higher than before.

“Vor! Oh, Vor!” I cry.

I feel his lips curve against me in a smile.