Finding Her Magical King novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Heart

The room was dark except for the moon through the window.

He set me on my feet beside the bed and stood there, breathing hard, with his hands on my waist.

"Tell me to stop," he dared against my mouth.

"Don't you dare stop."

He laughed against my mouth, and I pulled his shirt up over his head myself.

His chest was bare under the moon, broad and pale, with that old scar curving over his shoulder.

I put my palms on him and felt every muscle jump.

He was cold, a deep cold under the skin, but the heat on top of it was real.

I ran my hands down his ribs, and he shut his eyes.

"Sorrel," he said, in a voice that did not sound like a king's.

"I'm here."

"Show me where to be gentle."

"I don't want gentle."

"That's not true."

"Then I don't want it yet."

He grinned, and it was the first time I had seen him grin without any worry in it.

He found the zip of the borrowed grey gown and drew it down, slowly.

The silk slid off my shoulders and pooled on the floor.

His breath caught.

He looked at me for a long moment, and I did not cover myself.

"You're beautiful," he said. "I thought so in the doorway of Room 12. I thought so with a towel on your arm."

"You were looking at the towel."

"I was looking at you, and the towel was in the way."

I laughed, and my voice shook.

Then I took hold of his belt and pushed him down onto the bed.

He went, and looked up at me with his hair in his eyes and his mouth open a little.

I climbed over him, and every nerve in my body was awake.

I had never done this.

I had never wanted to.

I kissed him slowly, because I could, and I felt him shudder under my hands.

His fingers moved up my back, and he undid my bra with one tug.

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