AYLETH
They’d wrestled and blocked during the training, but it was an entirely different kind of contact. Abrasive and swift. Not this powerful onslaught of him.
He’d swooped on her as soon as he realized what she was asking, one hand in her hair, the other on her hip and he’d pulled her in, taking her mouth, teasing her with his tongue. It was overwhelming and wonderful, and she fell into it willingly, gasping for him as the fire in her belly roared to life.
She clawed her hands into his hair and pulled him down, open mouthed. They stumbled, but then he was walking her backwards, one of his hands back to brace on the wide tree that hit her between the shoulder blades a moment later. He hunched over her, his breath thundering in her ear. When he dropped to kiss her neck, she lifted her head and focused on his leathers. The stiff leather and double-layered breast of the jacket was designed for protection, not for easy access. She was swearing by the time she got the buttons loose and the full-chest width leather peeled away.
He didn’t have anything under it, and she whimpered, sliding her hand up his stomach to the broad planes of his chest as he groaned into her neck.
“Ayleth, dear Lord…”
She was frantic, wrestling with her own buttons now, because she wanted to be skin to skin with him. And her desperation fed his. Together, without breaking the kiss, they each fought with the brass buttons on her leathers until finally the last one sprang open and she whipped the leather back and pulled him in, gasping when her nipples rubbed on his chest.
“Etan!”
Braced on the tree with one arm he slid the other down her thigh and lifted her leg, hooking it around his, then ground into her.
They both groaned. Ayleth’s head fell back and she gripped the sides of his jacket, pulling him in tighter against her, arching her lower back to keep the pressure, but also to slide her chest against his. She was trembling.
“Holy fuck,” Etan gasped. “Ayleth, we can’t…”
“Please, Etan,” she whimpered. He kissed her and rolled into her again, and again, a low guttural moan erupting from his throat that only made her flames burn higher.
*****
ETAN
He was losing control. He had to stop. She’d taken him by surprise. He hadn’t prepared to… to fight this fight as she writhed against him, kissing him open mouthed, pressing her breasts into his chest and pulling his hips into hers. She wanted him—she really wanted him—and he was so far beyond restraint, he worried he might actually find a way to make that happen, right here, against a fucking tree.
A tree.
He had the future Queen of Zenithra, sweaty and panting, against a tree.
Fuck.
Forcing himself to pull out of the kiss, he leaned his head back. “Ayleth, stop…” he whispered. But she just kissed down his neck. And when he put his hand to her jaw, she grabbed it and pulled it down to her breast.
“Please, Etan, touch me. Please.”
His breath shuddered out of him and he had to blink. He had to get himself under control. He had… he had to do more than kiss her.
With a resigned groan, he dropped to one knee. At first she thought he was leaving her and she whimpered and clung to him. But then he pulled her nipple into his open mouth, laving it with his tongue and she jerked, crying out.
He stayed there a full minute, sucking and nipping, one hand at her back, the other on her other breast, teasing the nipple until she twitched with every flick.
He slid his hand down her ass, to the back of her thigh, and the temptation was there to get her pants unbuttoned, to bare her to him. But he knew. He knew… he wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t get back, she wouldn’t be a virgin anymore, and… all of this, their only chance, it would be ruined.
They would have their chance for this, he had to remember. It was a delay, not a denial. He would marry her, and he would have her over, and over, and over again.
He dropped his forehead to her chest and came off her nipple with a light pop. She groaned and said his name again, but he was blinking. He had to stop. They had to stop. They couldn’t…
“Etan…” she had both her hands in his hair, pulling him back to her chest and he almost went. He wanted to, so badly. He wanted nothing but more with her.
But with a growl, he stumbled backwards, off of her, to his feet. “Stop, Ayleth. We have to stop!” She’d taken a step towards him, but he put his hand up, his voice urgent and pleading. “I have to stop, Ayleth. Please.”
She stood in front of him, shocked, her chest heaving—her bare and beautiful chest. Rosy nipples at the peak of the swells of creamy skin. That v between her collarbones, the strong lines down her neck.
Etan groaned and turned his back. “Cover yourself, please. Please. For me, Ayleth. I need… I need to stop.”
“Etan what’s wrong? Are we out of time?”
Time? He hadn’t even thought about the time. And curse it, they weren’t. Not yet. That would have been helpful. But he shook his head. “No,” he gasped, his back still turned to her. “I just… if I don’t stop now, I’m not going to and… we can’t.”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly, and suddenly warmth was at his back, and hands on his arm and shoulder as she pressed herself into him.
He dropped his head back, his hands clenched at his sides, shaking with the sheer effort not to take hold of her. “Ayleth, please. I need you to stop.”
“But—”
“Would you stop, woman?!” he roared and tore himself out of her arms. “I’m trying to do the right thing here—for both of us. But especially for you!” He whirled on her, all his frustrated sexual desire poured into rage. “You have no idea! None! What you do to me! You think this is a simple thing, a mere complication. You know nothing!”
*****
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