Chapter 34 - whispers of heat (R18)
As Liam leaned on the railing, his breath fogging in the cool air. The courtyard murmured below—horses shifted, a guard's boots scraped—but the quiet gnawed at him. He was still reminiscing Drenvar's fight, "Need more than this."
Footsteps clicked behind him—soft, hesitant. He half-turned, hand twitching to his hilt, but froze as a figure slipped from the corridor's shadow.
Princess Isabella, cloaked in deep velvet, hood low. It slipped as she stopped, chestnut hair tumbling loose, catching faint gold in the light. Her pale face tilted up—sharp cheeks, hazel eyes wide, darting—shy, caught. Her hands clutched her cloak tight.
"Didn't expect anyone out here," she said, her voice soft but edged with curiosity.
"I just needed air," Liam replied with a casual shrug, dropping his hand from the hilt.
"Didn't mean to disturb you, sorry, I'll go," she stammered, voice small, turning half-away, but her eyes lingered on him.
"You can stay. Air's free," he said, his tone gruff.
She froze, fingers twisting in velvet, hazel eyes flicking up then down. "I... saw you ride in. Heard about Drenvar," she said, her voice shaky, a flush creeping up her neck.
Liam tilted his head; her words tugged a memory— days back just before he left for Thalrune, blocking his path, telling him, "Return safely," before leaving. "Thought you'd be asleep, princess," he said, his voice low, testing.
Her lips parted, a nervous laugh slipping out. "Couldn't—kept thinking... you did return," she said, eyes meeting his briefly, flirty but unsure, then dropping. She shifted, velvet brushing stone; her cloak parted a fraction—pale thigh flashed, accidental, her flush deepening. Liam's pulse kicked, her shy heat a match to it. "Yeah—bloody ride," he said, closing the gap, boots scuffing.
She didn't retreat; her breath quickened, hands trembling as she gripped her cloak. "I—I told you to be safe," she said, voice barely a whisper, hazel eyes darting up—flirty now, unintentional, like she couldn't help it.
Liam's smiled; restlessness boiled—her nervousness had lit a fuse. He grabbed her wrist, gentle but firm; she gasped, soft and startled, but didn't pull back—her skin burned under his fingers.
This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.
"Safe's boring," he said, tugging her closer; her body pressed light against him—small, warm, quivering. Her eyes widened, breath catching, but she didn't resist; her free hand brushed his cloak, shaky. "You're... not boring," she mumbled, voice breaking, flirty slipping through shy—her flush spread, chest rising fast.
His laughter, roughened by fatigue and longing, echoed in the night air. "Not boring, huh? " he teased, lowering his voice, feeling an unfamiliar thrill curl in his chest.
He slid a hand up her thigh, under velvet; her skin shivered, bare and soft, her gasp sharp in the quiet. "Fuck—quiet now," he muttered, fingers digging her hip; she nodded quick, biting her lip, hazel eyes locked on his—scared, wanting. He shoved her against the railing, stone cold at her back; her cloak fell open, baring legs, silk clinging wet between them.
He dropped to his knees, no words—pure need driving him. She gripped the railing, her knuckles whitening as a soft whimper slipped past her lips; her hazel eyes darted down, wide and shaky.
He yanked her velvet cloak wider, the fabric rasping against stone, and tugged at her silk pants—thin, clinging, a dark wet streak blooming down the middle, soaked through from her cunt. The dampness gleamed in the torchlight, outlining her pussy's heat; her thighs quivered as he peeled the silk aside, slow at first, letting it stick to her skin before it gave way.
Her pussy bared—pink, slick, glistening wet—her juices had seeped into the fabric, leaving a sharp, musky scent that hit him hard. He leaned in close, nose brushing the soaked silk still bunched at her thigh; he sniffed deep, deliberate—her smell punched through, hot and raw, a mix of salt and need that made his cock twitch hard in his trousers.
She jerked—hips bucking sudden, a choked "Oh—" escaping as her body flinched from the closeness; her hands tightened on the railing, nails scraping stone, her breath hitching fast.
He smiled, her reaction stoked him, shy but breaking. He spread her thighs rough, fingers digging into soft flesh; she trembled harder, legs parting wider as the cool air kissed her wet cunt. Her scent thickened—sharp, intoxicating—his mouth watered, but he held a beat, letting her squirm, her pussy dripping now, a thin line trailing down her inner thigh. Then he buried his face in her—tongue plunging deep, wet and tight—lashing her clit with no mercy, tasting her heat, bitter-sweet and flooding.
She squirmed under him, her body twisting against the stone railing; her thighs clamped tight around his head, trembling with the effort to hold still, muscle flexing hot against his ears.
Her hands fisted his hair—weak at first, fingers tangling in the strands, then pulling sharper as she lost control, nails grazing his scalp with tiny stings. She bit down hard on her moans, lips red and swollen, a faint smear of blood where her teeth broke skin; her hazel eyes fluttered, half-lidded, rolling back as her breath came in short, ragged bursts.
"Fuck—please—" she gasped, her voice tiny and cracking, barely a whisper over the night's hum; her hips jerked forward, involuntary, grinding her cunt against his mouth—wet, desperate, chasing more.
Her pussy dripped heavier now—juices slicked her thighs, glistening in the torchlight, a thin sheen coating her skin as her arousal soaked through; the sharp tang of it filled his nose, driving him wild. He ate her harder—sucking her clit with fierce pulls, tongue fucking deep into her pussy—relentless, no pause—her tight walls pulsed around him, hot and slick, smearing his face with her wet.
Her legs shook fast—knees buckling, thighs quivering as she fought to stay up; her toes curled in her shoes, scraping faint against stone, her whole body tensing as pleasure ripped through.
A stifled cry slipped out—high, broken—muffled quick as she clamped her lips shut, eyes squeezing tight; the night swallowed the sound, hiding her from the guards below. He gripped her hips bruising, pinning her as he devoured her cunt—sucking harder, tongue lashing wild—her juices streaked his chin, her taste raw and consuming, feeding his need.