Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(63)

Damien didn’t answer. He thrust into her again, harder this time. It hurt and it did not hurt, and Penelope found herself lifting her hips to meet his.

She kissed his cheek, feeling the burn of his whiskers. The sensation, so masculine and warm, tipped her over the edge she’d been teetering upon.

Another cry burst from her lips. A dark wave swamped her, one flickering with the edges of fire. Damien braced himself on the bed, his bound hand pushing hers into the blankets, his thrusts coming faster.

He gave a shout that ended in a growl, and his entire body ground into hers. “Penelope,” he said savagely. “Love you. Love …” He trailed off into a string of Nvengarian as he kissed her hot face, his lips warm and heavy.

Penelope rose beneath him, holding him down to her, their hips rocking in frantic motion. Damien’s gaze focused on her, his blue eyes like the sky at dawn. Like the sky, they held sparkles like stars.

Then he threw his head back to thrust a final time, deep inside her, a look of peace stealing over his face. Penelope clung to him, her cries frantic, a dark fire erasing every thought but the feeling of being joined to him.

When her senses slowly returned, cool waves flowing over her body’s heat, Damien’s thrusts had quieted, and the pressure on her hand eased. Still inside her, Damien’s kisses became lighter, slower, more gentle.

Penelope breathed out in a long sigh, her body loosening, limbs sinking into the featherbed. She closed her eyes.

She remembered the words of the baroness at the fête, as the woman had laughed with her friends about Nvengarians in general. They are quite depraved, my dear, really quite depraved.

Penelope flushed and opened her eyes to look at Damien. If this was depravity, she liked it. Perhaps she was depraved as well, perhaps because she had Nvengarian blood, however many times diluted.

Damien was smiling down at her, his hair mussed. “If ever I doubted the prophecy, I believe in it now. We fit together excellently well.”

“Yes,” Penelope said fervently. “It feels … excellent.”

He was still pressed into her, erect and full. From what little her married friends had told her, that was not supposed to happen. They’d giggled to Penelope about a man’s limp bird and a cock that had left its perch.

She touched Damien’s cheek. “Are you all right?”

Damien’s smile grew languid. “Perfectly. I believe this is the best I have felt in my entire life.”

“But you are still rigid.”

The look in his eyes was sinful. “That is your fault.”

“Mine?”

“Mmm-hmm. For being the most beautiful and desirable woman I have ever met.”

She gave a short laugh. “Spanish coin again.”

He looped a strand of her hair around the tip of his finger. “Why can you not believe it is the truth?”

Penelope had no answer except that she’d always thought of herself as plain, and more than one person had confirmed that belief. “You make me feel beautiful,” she said.

“You are beautiful, love.”

Penelope’s heart ached, and she was not certain why. “When the prophecy is fulfilled, will we still be in love?”

Damien kissed her lips, his smile wicked. “I cannot imagine feeling any other way about you.”

“Nor I you, truth to tell.”

“In that case, I suggest we do as much loving as possible, to take advantage of our madness.”

Damien tried to look innocent and failed so miserably that Penelope burst out laughing. “You are trying to charm me again.”

“Does it work?” He leaned to whisper into her ear. “What about this?” Damien said a few phrases in Nvengarian that she did not know.

She ran relaxed fingers through his hair. “I have a feeling I should not ask Sasha what those things mean.”

“No? You misunderstand him.” Damien touched the tip of her nose. “He would probably tell you most eagerly, happy that I am wooing you.”

“Will you tell me what you said?” she asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Damien shrugged. “Some of the phrases sound much cruder in English.”

“I feel I ought to know what sweetnesses you are whispering into my ear.”

“Not all of it is sweet, as you say. Some of it you are not ready for.”

“Tell me what I am ready for.”

Damien considered, his blue eyes twinkling. “I am not certain yet. You are resilient, but I would like you to stay here with me for the rest of the afternoon and not scream and run away.”

Penelope wanted to laugh. “You are making me avid with curiosity. Tell me one thing at least.”

“Ah, you are a brave woman. Very well, let me choose the most innocuous.” The smile deepened. “I have it. There are certain places on your body that I would like to put my tongue.” He leaned down and licked the curve of her ear. “This is but one of the places.”

Her skin prickled. “You have already put it somewhere quite wicked.”

“Yes, and I enjoyed tasting you again. I would like to lick your toes, which I have also already done.”

Penelope blushed, remembering the curling warmth inside her when he took her toes into his mouth. “And my fingers,” she reminded him. “And you’ve kissed me.”