War (The Four Horsemen #2) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,72
that that was so much more than I intended it to be.
He lays down next to me, gathering me into his arms.
And he cuddles.
Shit. A lonely girl like me has no defense against this, especially right now, when I feel particularly vulnerable.
I’ve only just caught my breath when I realize that now it’s my turn.
I don’t think War is going to ask, but I also really want those aviaries intact. That’s why I made this trade in the first place.
The horseman is drawing circles on my back when I reach down between us and wrap my hand around him.
He’s still painfully hard. His cock jerks, and his body tenses.
I start to move down his body, past his glowing tattoos, past his abs, past the tantalizing triangle of muscle that makes up his pelvis, until I’m kneeling between his thighs, my hand still fisted around him.
War props himself up on his forearms. “Wife.” His eyes glitter.
“A deal’s a deal,” I say. I move my hand up and down his shaft to emphasize my point. In response, his hips jerk.
“God’s wrath,” he swears beneath his breath. “What, exactly, do you intend to do—?”
His words cut off sharply as my lips wrap around the head of his cock. He groans, his hips bucking up to meet my mouth.
He’s huge, and I’m clumsy and not at all sure what I’m doing, but he’s groaning and shuddering, so I must be doing at least something right.
“Mercy to the fallen, I’ve never … never felt sensation like this …” His words taper into a groan.
Alright, either he’s laying it on thick, or I totally missed a career as an expert prostitute because War seems to really be enjoying this.
At some point I find a rhythm, and then it’s his hands that delve into my hair, holding me to him.
“Your mouth against me—it’s the most exquisite pain, wife.”
I’m happy he thinks that because my God, this man’s dick is going to break my jaw.
Once I gain enough confidence, my hand moves to his balls.
“Miriam—”
That’s all the warning I get.
War thickens inside my mouth, and then he’s coming and coming and coming. I taste him against my tongue for a moment—am I supposed to swallow? But then it doesn’t matter because I am swallowing, and he’s making sexy, satisfied sounds as he continues to piston in and out from between my lips.
I feel oddly proud of my oral game for a hot five seconds before I realize I just gave a horseman of the apocalypse a blowjob, and I have superhuman cum inside me and I’m pretty sure none of this is good.
War pulls me up to him, distracting me from that disturbing line of thoughts.
“I may know every language, wife,” he says, his sex-roughened voice extra deep, “but I have no words for what I feel right now.”
I search his kohl-lined gaze, then give him a soft kiss on the lips.
The horseman is painfully kind. Much kinder than I ever imagined him to be.
It doesn’t change who he is, the cynical part of me says. And then the guilt creeps in at what I did and what I will continue to do with the horseman. Worse, I truly wanted it for my own selfish reasons.
At least the aviaries will be saved. I can rest easy knowing that.
I lay there in the horseman’s arms for a long time. Long enough for our breathing to return to normal and our bodies to cool. I even spend a few minutes tracing War’s glowing tattoos.
Just like last night, I want to reimagine us, if only to alleviate my guilt. I want to pretend I get to have him and a decent life and no more battles and everything else that I know I don’t get.
The daydream only lasts for a few minutes. Once I can hold reality at bay for no longer, I begin to get up.
I’ve only just begun to step out of War’s bed when he hooks an arm around my torso and drags me back to his pallet.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his breath hot against my ear.
I flash him a surprised look. Isn’t it obvious? “Back to my tent.”
“No,” he says simply.
I lay there, my back against his chest, for a second. “This is not what we agreed on,” I say.
“Your touches,” War replies. “That’s what we agreed on. And I’m claiming them all, even the ones that happen when I’m not taking you in my mouth.”