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Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)(72)

Author:JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT

His palm pressed against me, and my body reacted without thought, rubbing against him. “I think you’re lying to me.”

CHAPTER 16

In a very distant part of my brain, warning bells rang. They’d probably been ringing this whole time but I’d been too distracted to notice.

Prince Thorne’s fingers kept moving idly between my thighs and at my breast. “Na’laa?”

“I . . . I’ve never seduced a Hyhborn,” I managed, thighs trembling. “Or been seduced by one.”

“Both of those things aren’t necessarily true,” he said. “You seduced me in the shower, and you were so very close to being seduced then.”

“I don’t believe that counts.”

“It doesn’t?” His fingers closed over the peak of my breast, sending a bolt of pleasured pain through me. “So . . .” He drew the word out as the finger he ran along me didn’t make an idle pass, but stopped, slipping into me. Not deep, but the shallow intrusion still was a stunning, acute shock, wringing a soft cry from me. “If it was my cock inside you instead of my finger?” That finger retreated until he nearly left me, and then he reclaimed the scant fingertip length. “Moving through this tight, hot heat of yours?”

Each breath I took felt like it went nowhere as his finger moved slowly, steadily— as his hand shifted and his thumb brushed over the nub of flesh just above his finger.

“Going deeper? Harder? Faster?” The blue and green churned wildly through the brown of his irises. His pupils were nearly white. “Would the sounds you make be those of a well-practiced and skilled lover as I fuck you? Or would your cries be those of one who has little experience in such pleasure?”

The moan that left me was one I’d never made before. I shuddered. I’d been fucked before, but I’d never felt these almost too-intense sensations he was creating inside of me, drawing out of me.

He dipped his head, lips glancing off my cheek. “I don’t think you’re a skilled courtesan.”

My heart thundered as I said the first thing that came to mind. “Perhaps the Baron believed you would not want one so experienced?”

One single brow rose. “Are you suggesting that your baron thought I would prefer debauching an unpracticed potential virgin who one day wants to become a botanist?”

A wave of prickly warmth hit my skin, loosening my hold on my tongue and common sense, but tightening my grip on his cock, just above that knot of flesh. He was even harder there than the rest of his body. “You don’t?” I asked, watching him as I moved my hand along his length just as he said he liked it. Tight. Hard. Those tiny sparks of light appeared in his pupils. “I’m no virgin, Your Highness, but truth is not nearly as important as perception. So, if you believe me to be an unpracticed virgin, it didn’t stop you from engaging in said debauchery, did it?”

The corners of his lips twitched as if he wished to smile. “It did not.”

Knowing that ground I was treading on was getting even thinner, more dangerous, I glanced down at where his hand was still between my legs, his finger still inside me. My eyes returned to his as I stroked him from the base to the tip, marveling a bit at the ridged feel of him. “And still hasn’t?”

The Prince didn’t respond for a long moment, but I felt his chest rise sharply under my other hand. “Am I to believe the way you all but ran into the bathing chamber upon the suggestion that we’d skip the bath was an act? That the flush of your skin when I entered the chamber was a trick of the eyes? Your hesitation in joining me? Your nervousness? All an act?”

I leaned in until our mouths were inches apart, summoning every ounce of bravery I had. “I’m not here to make you believe one thing or another.”

His hips jerked and the fingers at my breast pressed into my flesh. “Then what are you here for?” he asked, voice thick and soft.

I swirled my thumb over the tip of his cock, smiling when air hissed between his clenched teeth. “If I have to explain that, then obviously I’m doing something wrong.” I squeezed him, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the roll of his hips that sent water splashing against the sides of the tub. “But I don’t think that I am.”

Prince Thorne’s lips parted, but he said nothing as I continued to stroke him, just as slowly as his finger moved inside me. Through half-closed eyes, I watched him closely. His breathing picked up, coming in short, shallow pants. So, I alternated between smooth slides and tighter, slower tugs, but the controlled plunges of his finger made it difficult to focus on anything but that.

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