Chapter Fifty: The Night The Raven Lost Its Wings IV
1808 Words
He was a man used to power.
That much I could tell.
From his assumption that I would walk to him to…this.
I unhooked the light, navy blue coat that lined his suit then let it fall to the floor in a puddle next to his tie.
His grip on my waist tightened to such an absurd degree that I was sure he intended to crush my ribs.
“I told you.”
He paused threateningly.
“The cloak has a-.”
“Did you want me to leave it on? It might get dirty. I mean, was it not the obvious choice between the floor and it contracting a w***e’s stench?”
“What?”
He sneered.
“Your low self-image does not mean there are no in-betweens. You could have folded it neatly then placed it-.”
“And you could have followed basic instructions when I asked you to come to me, but I guess we are both too incapable.”
“Are you mad? Do you think I am one to test?”
When he asked this, he pressed my body against his.
His hard chest against mine.
“Perhaps for tonight. Only tonight will I…test everything about you.”
I dropped my gaze to the pink of his lips, and he let out a ragged breath, pushed me harshly from him, then proceeded to pick the crested cloak from the floor.
“You know, I never thought you were this slow. Have you not yet figured out how to ask the precise question you want rather than hoping I will volunteer answers?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Is that another question?”
The deepness of his laugh filled the air, tickling something that I did not wish to acknowledge in my belly.
“I was brought up in a different way than you were.”
“Are you bragging?”
His golden gaze met mine.
“Is that a question?”
This time, it was my turn to laugh. However, that was short-lived because as soon as I realised that he was not joking, silence hung ripe in the air.
“Unfortunately, your highness, it is not a question.”
“Too bad.”
He placed the folded cloak next to the gown I had on earlier, then cleared his throat.
“Why did you vanish after rejecting Étienne?”
“Who the hell wants to marry a viscount with six wives?”
“Hmm, the viscount is prestigious enough to get away with it.”
“Prestige is not one of the qualities I look for in a lover.”
“He was to be your husband, not your lover.”
‘His questions are growing personal.’
“Hmm.. let’s see…you’ve asked two questions so far...”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, your highness, seriously.”
I walked to where he stood, beside the ottoman holding our garments, then pulled him to me using his suit.
He moved quickly, once again crashing his firm chest into mine.
My breasts felt heavy, and my breathing was no longer steady.
Truthfully, I pulled hard because I expected a bit of resistance on his end, but with its lack…I had this hard, toned, horny goliath of a man pressed against me in an unnatural distance considering I intended to unbutton his suit.
‘I should say something.’
“Oh… I didn’t expect that-,”
I tried to brush off the situation when his hand stroked my cheek.
“You keep seducing me with this lustful body…hurry up and pass on a question so that I can finally touch you.”
‘What the hell?’
“F-follow the rules, your highness.”
I stumbled on my words; the smile I was used to wearing in awkward situations remained forgotten.
‘F*ck!’
“Rheyes. Tonight, I want you to call me Rheyes.”
He whispered, then pulled my chin to him.
He pressed his lips firmly against mine before taking the moment of hypnotic confusion to slide his hand to my neck.
His kiss was soft, gentle even…so much so that I did not feel my control threatened by returning it.
His leg slid between mine then rubbed ever so slightly the throbbing bud at the heart of my centre, eliciting a moan from me.
Rheyes took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, deepen his control, as his tongue slid effortlessly into my mouth, caressing every sensitive fold as though, in that short moment we spoke, he studied the creases of my mouth.
“Wha- wait!”
I tried to halt him, to pull away, but the hand on my neck kept me still.
The kiss was dizzying, intoxicating…but that could just be the leg rubbing insistently against my c******s.
It was getting hard to keep my waist from matching his rhythm.
I wasn’t backed into the wall; I could push him off.
I could, but…
‘But there…oh god, there!’
Another desperate moan escaped me as I felt my body readying itself for an o****m long overdue, only he swallowed the desperate whimper then pulled his lips harshly from mine.
I wouldn’t have minded if that was all he pulled away from me. I wanted to run my tongue across his earlobes anyway; however, he also pulled his leg away from what needed it most.
Leaving me; basically, dry humping the air for relief.
“No...no! Why did you pull away? I was so close.”
Rheyes smiled devilishly.
‘f**k…’
“You were to undo my suit jacket, were you not? Chop-chop! We haven’t got all night.”
‘Seriously…fuck!’
I lifted my now shaky fingers to unbutton his coat.
The roaring wave of pleasure was still evident in my body, clinging tightly to me, begging for a respite I could not grant.
I tried to press my legs together, but that did not grant the relief I desired, merely elicited a delicious throb.
“I will make you come if you call me by my name.”
He whispered this promise as I threw his suit carelessly to the ottoman beside us.
“What?”
“You heard me?”
I reached for the hand resting firmly on my shoulder, caressing the dip before my neck, then removed the cuff buttons lining the shirt’s cuffs.
“No. Unfortunately, it is and will always be, ‘your highness’. Especially for tonight.”
His playful smile dropped.
“Seriously?”
“Is that another question?”
“Why not?”
“Is that the question?”
He chuckled, inhaled deeply, then took a step away from me.
Forcing me to understand that his condition for my o****m was non-negotiable.
“Okay, fine, why will you not call me by my name?”
I returned his smile.
The answer was simple.
‘I can't forget who I am, even in the- no, especially in the throes of ecstasy.’
But such an answer would kill the mood; I mean to him I was a p********e whom he couldn’t afford to pay because his cards were…?
He, too, had his reservations about tonight; it would be best not to remind him of them because rather than hole up in my chambers or move on towards...whatever challenges Clay held, I want to if only for tonight, feel good.
“Pass.”
Rheyes gave me a mixed expression, then exasperatedly ran his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know whether to feel joyful or disappointed by your answer.”
His eyes lowered to my chest, but I redirected them to my feet.
“Ah- ah- ah! Start with my socks before you have me die of hypothermia.”
“You must be joking.”
“Is that a question or clarification?”
The intensity of his laughter grew, but there was nothing playful about it.
His gaze had darkened too much for me to mistake the mood. Hell, not only his gaze but for what had to be the last two minutes the bulge on his pants only seemed to grow.
‘Is that healthy?’
He took a step towards me, but I pressed my hand firmly on his chest to halt him.
“What?”
I smiled at his question and he clicked his tongue.
“Get serious, Countess. How the hell can we communicate if you intend to charge me for everything?”
I walked past him then plopped my body on the couch he had offered initially.
“Will it not be best for you to take my socks off kneeling?”
“Kneeling? Are you insane?”
“Only a little.”
“Countess, I-,”
“Chop chop.”
“I will not kneel before you, I have dignity!”
His comment introduced noticeable distance between us. In fact, immediately he uttered the words, he scratched the back of his head nervously.
“What I mean is-”
“There is no need to clarify.”
I said then crossed my legs and removed one sock from my foot and threw it to the floor.
The words hurt, but it is best when lines that cannot be blurred are drawn.
Just more proof that we do not suit each other’s tastes. That we are only here because we are available, not fated or meant to be.
‘So this is fine. It has to be fine.’
Contrary to the harshness of his previous words, a frown dressed his face.
“Wait, that’s it?”
“Pardon?”
I questioned as I crossed my other leg.
*
*
*
Rheyes Kerhid Norvig Yarez
He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly to her, hell, it wasn’t his intention to kill the mood.
At least that is what he thought the repercussions would be.
Instead...she moved on.
She didn’t call him out on his harshness or try to coerce him to follow her command, rather she just moved on.
‘Why?’
He is the first prince, perhaps not as well versed in the female body as Killian, but he knew how they operated.
‘So then what the hell is this?’
“Wait, that’s it?”
“Pardon?”
She asked as she reached for her other leg’s socks.
“Wait, don’t…don’t remove that one, let me.”
“No need.”
She dismissed.
‘Why?...is she used to rejection? Or…’
He couldn’t formulate another reason that held valid evidence, all he was certain of was that he wanted their night to remain unforgettable to her as it would be to him.
Not because he was deeply attracted to her, but because her personality, for whatever reason, only seemed to challenge him.
“Countess! Let me.”
‘f**k…am I really about to kneel before a countess? A woman far beneath my status that we are hardly invited to the same social events?’
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