His fingers move the cotton aside, and I gasp when he touches me without the fabric barrier. It takes me a moment to find my voice again, to come up with words, as he forces my legs apart further.
“They made an underground glass tunnel leading from the prince’s castle straight to the princess’s bedroom so they, uh...”
I lose my words again when he drags me onto the bed, laying me down in the center of it. My heart races, thumping furiously as he hovers over me, cocking an eyebrow, staring down. “So they could fuck?”
“Basically.”
My voice sounds smaller than I want it to. I sound meek. Ugh. That’s not me. He’s still staring at me, but I think he hears my timid tone, too, because his expression shifts. “You’re not nervous, are you?”
“Nope.”
I answer way too fast, way too loud.
He smirks. He knows I’m lying.
“Tsk, tsk,” he says, his voice low, rough. “What did I say I did to people who lied to me?”
“You kill them,” I whisper.
“You’re goddamn right,” he says, gaze moving from my face, down to my chest before trailing even lower. “And what I’m about to do to you, Scarlet? If it doesn’t kill you...”
He trails off with a laugh.
I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.
My body, though, is most definitely a fan, every syllable he speaks bringing it more to life, like being roused from a deep, dark sleeping curse. That which does not kill me isn’t trying hard enough. He said that the first night we met.
Lorenzo strips me, tugging my pants down, taking the underwear with it, yanking the shoes from my feet and tossing them to the floor, the clothes following.
“So they built some magical tunnel to sneak around and fuck,” he says, kissing down my stomach, his tongue swirling around my belly button, dipping inside of it. I squirm, shivering at the sensation, and unconsciously reach for him, but he grabs my wrists, stopping me, his gaze returning to my face, his expression dead serious. “I’m about to fuck you with my mouth like you’ve never been fucked before, and you’re going to keep telling me that story. You got me?”
“I, uh…” Wow. “Okay.”
“You stop, I stop,” he says, his gaze flickering down, right between my legs. “And I’m not going to want to stop, so you better not make me.”
I’m not sure how this is going to work, my nerves through the roof. He’s right—it might kill me. Because yeah, I’ve slept around… I’ve been passed around, like a piece of meat… but men that go down for the fun of it are unicorns.
At least, among men in the business of sleeping with women like me.
Gripping my wrists, he pins them flat against the bed as he settles between my thighs. I look down at him, watching in the darkness, chest aching, heart racing, and adrenaline rushing through my veins, fueled by anticipation. He’s just a breath away. He’s right there. His eyes flicker up, a warning in them.
Oh, shit, right, I’m supposed to be talking.
“They made this glass tunnel so they could sneak off together,” I repeat, stalling again, gasping, the moment his mouth is on me. He starts slow, running light circles around my clit with his tongue, but it’s enough to make me arch my back and squirm.
Wait, ugh, how does this story go?
“Every night, the prince would go see her, just run there, buck fucking naked, slip into her room and they’d, uh… fuck.” I throw my head back, the curse damn near catching in my throat, when his lips encircle my clit and he sucks on it, sending pleasure through me. “Fuck, every night... he runs over there. But the sisters, they find out, and they decide, you know, they can’t have that. They can’t let them... fuck.”
It’s torture, what he’s doing. I can’t see. I don’t know. But his mouth is fully on me now, tongue doing whatever it does, flicking and licking, sucking and fucking, completely devouring me, like he’s starving. I try to yank my arms from his grasp, but he isn’t budging, his grip damn tight. I want to grab him by the hair and pull him closer, desperate for more friction, but I think I’m just as likely to punch him if he frees me, because Jesus Christ, what is he doing to me?
“The prince, he doesn’t know,” I say breathlessly. “That night, he runs through the tunnel, no clothes on. The glass is smashed, he’s cut up, blah blah blah, uhhh... he, uh... Christ, that feels good.”
Lorenzo laughs. The asshole laughs. His mouth is on my pussy, my clit pulsating from the feeling, the sensation damn near shoving me over the edge, an orgasm building, because he’s laughing.
Yeah, I’d punch him.
“He’s cut up, bleeding out... I don’t know... dying. It’s killing him... fuck, it’s killing me...” I swallow thickly, squeezing my eyes shut. “Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t stop, but I know he will if I don’t pull myself together. Asshole.
“The glass is magic. His cuts won’t heal. He’s still dying, so the King, oh god…” I shift my hips, my toes curling when he hits a spot that sends shockwaves rippling through me, my thighs trembling. Oh god… oh god… oh god. “The King promises whoever heals the Prince can marry him.”
Lorenzo releases my wrists, and I’m grateful for a brief moment, instantly running my hands through his thick, dark hair. He pushes a finger inside of me, maybe two, I don’t know, fucking me with them before abruptly pulling his mouth away. His gaze finds mine when I open my eyes, and I almost panic (did I pause too long?) before he speaks. “What if it’s a guy?”
He curves his fingers, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. The unicorn found the fucking Holy Grail.
Didn’t even need a map.
He navigated right there.
It feels so good I can’t make sense of anything else. It takes me a moment to remember he even spoke. “Uh, what?”
“What if a guy heals him?”
“I, uh… he marries him?” Did he really stop for that? “Are you seriously asking questions?”
He shrugs. “I’m curious.”
“It can’t wait?”
He smirks. “I like watching you squirm.”
His mouth is back on me after that, but I’ve lost my train of thought, because now that he’s added fingers to the mix, well, I really am going to die.
The pressure is building, and I’m panting, spewing out words.
I don’t know if they make sense.
“Nella, she goes to tell him goodbye, gonna die, no cure, I don’t know, holy fuck. But an ogre, you kill it, you save him. Nella overhears. Jesus Christ, don’t stop, please…” I fist his hair, my breath hitching. I’m thinking Lorenzo’s mouth could’ve saved the prince, because I don’t think there’s anything this mouth couldn’t do. “She murders the ogre, cures the prince, they marry… blah, blah, blah, oh god, I’m gonna… uh, Lorenzo!”
Orgasm tears through me. I gasp. My legs shake. He doesn’t stop, even though I’ve run out of words, doesn’t let up at all, his mouth working miracles as I buck my hips, practically fucking his face. Tingles engulf me, goose bumps coating my skin.
It’s short lived, the sky-high euphoria, but worth every damn second of stumbling through that story.
As soon as it fades, I relax back into the bed, my eyes closed, my muscles needing a moment to work again. Lorenzo sits up, his voice serious, matter of fact, as he says, “That was a terrible story.”
“You’re an asshole,” I mutter, peeking at him.
“Seriously, that’s your favorite fairy tale?”
“At least it has a happy ending.”
He shakes his head as he moves closer, climbing up the bed, hovering right over me again. He slowly licks his lips, making a shiver runs through me. “I might be an asshole, Scarlet, but that little game kept you from fading, didn’t it?”
Yeah, I guess it did.
He leans down, kissing me, fumbling with his pants, unbuttoning them.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says. “That okay with you?”
I nod. More than okay. I’m aching, my body on fire, desperate to feel him inside of me again. I hate that I want it so much, that I want him, but he’s like a drug, I think, one of those potent, addictive drugs that alters your brain chemistry.