The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,56

top of her like a fallen oak.

“Well, that’s something,” he muttered. “Open your legs now, sweetheart.” She did so, admittedly with some trepidation. Still, it felt different this time. Armand’s fingers were between her legs again. “You’re so nice and wet, princess,” he whispered. “I can’t wait.”

“You—you said it was good last time,” she blurted.

His eyes met hers. “I did? When I was inside you?”

She nodded and his nostrils flared. “This time I’ll make it good for you too,” he vowed. Again, she nodded and then he was reaching between them to place his manhood at her entrance. His eyes sought hers again. “I’m ready,” she said bravely, and he started to push his way into her in an insistent, but not uncomfortable, slide. She could only suppose her wetness was facilitating his entrance this time.

When he was halfway in, Una braced herself for the brutal thrust that caused so much pain, but to her surprise when it did come, it was not met with a blast of discomfort. Feeling her stiffen, Armand stopped at once.

“It hurts?” he asked.

“No, not at all.” He looked relieved and then thrust again twice more, until his eyes closed, and he gritted his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Una asked in alarm.

“Nothing,” he grunted. “It just feels really good.”

“Oh.” She gave a slight wriggle to check nothing pinched, but other than the peculiar sensation of fullness, she felt no ill effects.

Armand, however, gave a deep groan. “Una! For the Lord’s sake, I’m hanging on here by a thread.”

Una paused. “What does that mean?”

“It means—uhhhh Gods.” His hips gave what looked to be an involuntary thrust and he braced his hands by her shoulders. “I want to do this, and this, and this,” he groaned, punctuating each phrase with increasingly harder thrusts of his hips. “Until I come. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. Should I pull out?”

“Pull out?” Una gazed up at him doubtfully. “Last time you just thrust until you collapsed on top of me.”

He blinked at that. “I bet I fucking did,” he said, looking pained. “Wait a minute, I’ll just—”

“No!” Una placed her hands on his shoulders. “All’s well.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

He hesitated. “You’re certain?”

“I am.”

He gave a relieved groan and labored over her, his movements crude and brisk. Una held him tightly, huffing her breath against his throat. She was not precisely disliking it, but it also felt extremely strange. Suddenly, she felt his thumb between her legs, landing on that self-same spot he had lavished with such attention earlier. Una’s closed eyes sprang open. “Oh!” she gasped with surprise.

He gave a satisfied rumble in his throat. “Bring your legs higher. Wrap them around me. Tight.”

Una lifted her legs and crossed them behind Armand’s back. His breathing hitched. “Damn it,” he swore, closing his eyes a second.

“Is that too tight?”

“No,” he grunted. “It’s good. Too good.” She felt him begin to pulse and jerk inside her and then he was slamming his hips against hers again with increasing urgency.

“Ah gods, Una,” he groaned. “Next time, my love. I swear it.”

Next time, what? she wondered as he thrust to his completion and once again, collapsed on top of her with a harsh bellow.

6

When Armand woke the next morning, he felt drowsy and happy. This feeling diminished slightly when he found himself alone in the bed, but a sound at the door heralded Una’s arrival with hot water and a cheerful smile. She was dressed in a gown he had not seen before of deep blue with a red underrobe that showed through at the sleeves and neckline, her auburn hair neatly braided and pinned.

“Good morning,” he said clearing his throat. “How long have you been about?”

“An hour or so,” she said setting the steaming jug down on the table. “Here’s clean cloths for you,” she said setting them down next to the basin.

He frowned. “Why are you fetching and carrying?” He could see their bags had been brought up. “I hope you did not cart those up the stairs.”

Una followed his gaze to where the saddlebags were piled up. “I did not want you to be disturbed, you were sleeping so soundly,” she admitted and colored faintly.

He took that as confirmation that she had indeed carried their things upstairs, and he felt a faint stab of something close to guilt. Then again, it wasn’t his fault she always rose so damn early! He rolled onto his side.

“That gown becomes you,” he said. “But I prefer your hair