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A Lick Of Frost :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 113 из 184He had gone, but he wasnot spent. He proved that as he began to pound me against the wood, the bed shivering with the strength of it, the entire frame of the bed protesting the abuse.
I screamed for him, and fought to keep my hands on the wood to hold myself in place as he plunged inside me as deeply as he could. Deep enough from this angle that pleasure and pain rode each other, as Frost rode me.
I let go of the bed and ran my nails down his white skin. Where I bled him the glow of his skin split, but it wasn't blood that ran out. Blue glowing lines followed the lines of my mails and painted our skin. There was a moment when I saw a thorn vine around my forearm, and the head of a stag traced across his chest. His body shuddered against mine, inside mine as I painted his body with my pleasure and his pain.
He pressed me in his arms so that I saw the glow on his shoulder, and that sign of power I had seen before as the vine on my arm. I realized that the tattoo that had first appeared in faerie was the same image as in his eyes.
We stayed frozen a moment, pressed against the headboard. His heart beat so fast and so hard I felt it against the side of my face like a hand. He took us slowly to our sides so that we finally lay across the head of the bed on what pillows had not been knocked off.
"I had forgotten how magnificent you could be, Frost." The voice was not mine; it came from the mirror. Where a second before I could not have moved, fear made me sit up and grab for spilled sheets.
"Don't cover yourselves," Andais said from the mirror.
We drew the sheets over us.
"I said, do not cover yourselves, or have I ceased to be your queen?" There was an evil tone in her voice that made us push the sheets back. She'd seen the end of our lovemaking; no reason to be shy now, I supposed.
Frost kept himself pressed against me so that he was as hidden as he could manage. I found my voice first, and said, "My queen, what brings you to our mirror?"
"I thought I would see Rhys with you, or was that a lie when you said you'd be with him?"
"Rhys will have his turn, my queen."
She stared at Frost, as if I were not there. I looked at him, his body dewed with the sweat of his exertions, his hair a glorious tangle of silver, to decorate all that pale muscled strength. He was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that even among the sidhe not everyone could boast. Ironic that one who had not begun as sidhe would be among our most handsome men. But now that I knew that he had been shaped by love, not a desire for power, but selfless love, I understood.
I screamed for him, and fought to keep my hands on the wood to hold myself in place as he plunged inside me as deeply as he could. Deep enough from this angle that pleasure and pain rode each other, as Frost rode me.
I let go of the bed and ran my nails down his white skin. Where I bled him the glow of his skin split, but it wasn't blood that ran out. Blue glowing lines followed the lines of my mails and painted our skin. There was a moment when I saw a thorn vine around my forearm, and the head of a stag traced across his chest. His body shuddered against mine, inside mine as I painted his body with my pleasure and his pain.
He pressed me in his arms so that I saw the glow on his shoulder, and that sign of power I had seen before as the vine on my arm. I realized that the tattoo that had first appeared in faerie was the same image as in his eyes.
We stayed frozen a moment, pressed against the headboard. His heart beat so fast and so hard I felt it against the side of my face like a hand. He took us slowly to our sides so that we finally lay across the head of the bed on what pillows had not been knocked off.
"I had forgotten how magnificent you could be, Frost." The voice was not mine; it came from the mirror. Where a second before I could not have moved, fear made me sit up and grab for spilled sheets.
"Don't cover yourselves," Andais said from the mirror.
We drew the sheets over us.
"I said, do not cover yourselves, or have I ceased to be your queen?" There was an evil tone in her voice that made us push the sheets back. She'd seen the end of our lovemaking; no reason to be shy now, I supposed.
Frost kept himself pressed against me so that he was as hidden as he could manage. I found my voice first, and said, "My queen, what brings you to our mirror?"
"I thought I would see Rhys with you, or was that a lie when you said you'd be with him?"
"Rhys will have his turn, my queen."
She stared at Frost, as if I were not there. I looked at him, his body dewed with the sweat of his exertions, his hair a glorious tangle of silver, to decorate all that pale muscled strength. He was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that even among the sidhe not everyone could boast. Ironic that one who had not begun as sidhe would be among our most handsome men. But now that I knew that he had been shaped by love, not a desire for power, but selfless love, I understood.