Cold Queen - K Webster Page 0,20
he wants? Why is this Volc asking for a deal? Is it some game to him?
“Never,” I tell him. Not because I care. If he wants to go to a mysterious land to fight in a war made of make-believe monsters, then so be it. I fight him on this because I can tell he’ll keep bothering me until I give in. What happens when I give in? Do I die? Does he take off with my sister? At least when I keep telling him no, he stays right beside me, warming me up and driving me crazy.
His fiery eyes flash with pleasure. A tiny thrill dances up my spine and wraps around my heart. Why do I care if I please him with my argumentative nature? Because you like the look on his face. His incredibly handsome face. I study his features for a moment. His messy black hair, dark brows, and scruffy cheeks. A strong, proud nose. Naughty golden brown eyes that track my every move. I love his lips most, though. Full and soft. Always twitching with a smile. His smiles are nice.
“Awfully fixated on my mouth, Dead Queen. Would you like me to put it to good use? Keep you warm between your thighs?”
I frown and jerk my eyes to his. “Between my thighs? Why there?”
He laughs as though I’m joking and then the humor fades. “You’re serious?”
“That’s where I…” I trail off, embarrassed at my words. “You know.”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“I honestly don’t know. Tell me, snowflake.”
“Where I relieve myself. Why must you be so disgusting?” I spit out.
His hand slides down my body and he clutches my thigh, drawing it over his hip. “Must we have a lesson, innocent one?”
My cheeks burn at his words. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m only trying to educate you.” His grin is wolfish. “You, my queen, know what’s between your thighs. The importance of what’s there.”
I look away, frowning. “Leave me alone.”
His leg slides up between my legs, coming to rest at the place in question. He brings his mouth close to my face, brushing his lips across my cheek. My core clenches in response.
“You know about babies, yes?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“How they’re made?”
I attempt to squirm out of his hold, but he rubs his thigh against me. A zing of pleasure darts through me. Jerking my eyes to his, I look at him in confusion.
“Oh, my sweet, fragile queen. I am the Truth Seeker. You really have no idea.” He kisses my nose. “Did your father never tell you?”
All my father ever told me was of a gruesome monthly curse called The Bloods that would one day result in my birthing a child. He didn’t get into the specifics and I was forbidden to speak of such things. I never had a use for this knowledge. It wasn’t like I didn’t know a man and a woman were needed to reproduce. I heard horrors stories of rape from other villages. I understand the idea, but not quite the specifics.
“Let me enlighten you, child,” he teases, making me grumble. “When a man wants a woman, he likes to lick her cunt first.”
I shriek. “You pig! Why must you be so scandalous?”
“I love to see your face turn pink. You look alive, my queen.”
I don’t think he realizes he called me his. I certainly ignore the way his words send tremors of excitement through me.
“Then what?” I demand, eager to get on with it.
“Then you whimper like a little kitten being stroked,” he growls. His thigh rubs against me again. “Just like this. But with my tongue.”
I grip his bare bicep, reveling in the firmness of his muscle. My hips, of their own accord, move in tandem with him.
“I take you to the edge. Over and over again. I don’t let you fall.”
Closing my eyes, I understand what he means about the edge. But I want to fall. It’s so close. “Why not?” I breathe.
“It’s more satisfying to tease,” he tells me, a smile in his voice. “Because when you do finally fall, and you will, it’ll be cataclysmic.”
A whimper tumbles from my lips. “I want to fall.”
His lips press to my jaw, his hot breath tickling me. I tilt my head away because I want to feel his warmth on my neck. I’m not disappointed when his tongue tastes the flesh near my ear. It’s a glorious sensation that has my thighs squeezing around his leg.
“So responsive,” he croons, nipping at my flesh. “I love that.”
I’m completely