Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(87)

He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she sucked it helplessly. He ground his hips into her and shuddered. She felt the tremors wrack his big shoulders. He tore his mouth from hers and groaned, long and low, his body shaking as it poured life into hers.

He dropped like a stone onto her and lay unmoving for a moment while she tried to catch her breath.

Finally he turned his head toward her face and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I love you and I believe with all my heart that you love me as well. Why can’t you say it, Hero?”

Chapter Sixteen

Queen Ravenhair looked at the answers to her question and nodded in acknowledgment. “I shall see you on the morrow, gentlemen.”

But as she rose to leave the throne room, Prince Eastsun spoke. “What is your decision, Your Majesty?”

She looked and saw that all three princes were staring at her rather sternly.

“Yes, which of us have you chosen?” Prince Northwind demanded. “We have answered each of your questions, yet you have said nothing.”

“You must decide,” Prince Westmoon said. “You must decide and tell us on the morrow which of us you will marry….”

—from Queen Ravenhair

Griffin got up and lit a candle from the banked embers in her fireplace. He walked back to the bed, arrogantly nude, the candlelight shining on his smooth stomach. He set the single candle on her bedside and climbed in beside her again, large and male and demanding.

“Well? Why can’t you say it?”

Hero looked at Griffin and felt her heart begin to crumble. “Does it matter so much, three little words?”

“You know it does.”

But she shook her head. “I can’t. You want me to give up my family, all that I know, and you won’t even give up your awful still. Can’t you see that what you’re asking is impossible?”

She expected anger and harsh words. Instead, he merely closed his eyes as if too weary to keep them open. “I need but a little time with the still. After I take down the Vicar. After—”

“How long, Griffin?” Her voice rasped in her throat. “Days? Weeks? Years? I cannot wait that long. Maximus and your brother will not let me.”

He opened his eyes, and his gaze was hard now. “So it comes down to this: You will choose marriage to my brother over marriage to me?”

“Yes.”

“How can you do this to me? To us?”

She bit her lip, trying to find the words. “I’ve spent my life obeying the rules set before me by society and my brother. Maximus has decided that Thomas is the better man for me.”

“You accuse me of not giving up my still for you,” he said quietly. “But I think you are the greater coward. You will not give up your brother’s approval for me.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she answered. “I cannot go against Maximus now. I cannot. He has the power to ban me from my family. Besides, he’s made the right choice. Thomas is reliable. He’s safe.”

“And I’m not?”

“No.” The word dropped between them like a leaden weight. Hero felt tears fill her eyes, though she wasn’t sure for what she mourned.

The bed shook and suddenly Griffin was atop her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his breath hot and angry against her cheek. “He might be safe, but do you love him, Hero?”

“No,” she sobbed.

“Does he make you blush with anger and then with want?” He kicked apart her legs, settling hot and heavy between them. “Does he know how sensitive your nipples are? That you can come just by me sucking them?”

“God, no.”

“Does he watch you like I do? Does he know that your eyes turn to diamonds when you’re aroused?” He nipped along her neck, his kisses insistent and hard. “Does he know that you like to read in Greek but loathe drawing? Does he wait with bated breath for you to arch your left eyebrow so prissily—and then grow hard when you do?” He thumbed both her nipples at once, bringing a surge of heat between her thighs. “Tell me, Hero, goddamn it to bloody hell, tell me: Does he make you feel like I do?”

“No!” Her answer was a despairing wail.

His thumbs were between them, spreading her folds as if he had every right, as if she was his, now and forever, until the end of time, amen. And then he was in her. Hard and hot, moving so exquisitely she began to cry.

She wrapped her legs tightly around his narrow hips, her arms about his shoulders, holding on to him with her entire body as he rode her.

His big penis slid in and out of her slick folds. She was already sensitive from their previous lovemaking. She was gasping, hardly able to keep up, his pace rough and fast. It was too much; she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She wanted to push him away. To flee this room and him and his too-strong lovemaking. He wasn’t giving her time to yield to him, to hide or assimilate his angry urgency. He was simply pushing her to experience what they shared—what they made—here and now.

He bent and caught her mouth, kissing her possessively even as his cock worked in and out of her. She moaned, opening her mouth, accepting the invasion of his tongue, tasting her own tears on his lips.

“Hero,” he murmured. “Hero. Hero. Hero.”

He punctuated each utterance of her name with a hard thrust of his hips as if to brand her as his. Sweat was dripping from his body, his breath was coming in hard gasps, and the bed was quaking.