Crown of Fire (Book 3 in the Crown Trilogy)

Twenty-Three

An arm slides around my waist, and I scream as I'm hoisted out of my saddle. "Sit," Kyron commands, situating me in front of him. "Ulric, take her horse."

Our friend doesn't hesitate to grab Nortus' reigns.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Taking your mind off things for a minute." He spurs Samson into a gallop until we are several yards in front of the others.

"But we shouldn't—"

"We're close enough to the capital that no one will attack us. They take a chance of getting caught and if they harm us on Sibyl land, the Sibyls will have no choice but to enter this war. It's a win-win."

I push my hood down from my head and glance back at him, cocking an eyebrow.

His lips pull into the boyish, lopsided grin that makes me want to melt. It's frustrating and endearing all at the same time. His smile makes it impossible to stay mad at him, and it also does things to my body that no simple tilt of a mouth should be able to do.

Placing his hand in the center of my chest, he pushes me back until my head is on his shoulder. "Relax. Our lives are on the verge of chaos. Enjoy this moment with me. Please."

It's the polite way he asks that stops me from protesting any more. I rest my body into his and allow my eyes to drift shut.

Kyron's lips brush my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he says, "That a good girl."

His fingers stroke the exposed skin from the base of my neck to the top of the valley between my breasts. His warm touch chases away the chill I've battled for hours. It feels good, too good. A steady throb beats between my legs, and I ache to rub my thighs together. I'm at his mercy with one simple touch.

"Are you forgetting everything that was bothering you, princess?" He ends his question with a kiss on the sensitive column just below my ear.

"Yes, but what about you? Don't you need help taking you mind off things?"

He moves his hips forward, pressing his hard cock to my backside. "My mind is right where I want it to be."

Statera help me. His need has him straining against his pants. I want to release him, feel his hard, silky cock in my palm. I'd stoke him until his eyes grow heavy with desire and his hips thrust him through my hold. Touching with my hand wouldn't be enough. I'd need him in my mouth. The tug of his fingers in my hair, the way the cords of his neck strain against his skin, the sound of my name leaving his mouth as he gives in to his release. I'm obsessed with making him fall apart.

I reach back to touch him, but he stops me. He takes my hand and places the horse's reins in my palm. "I need you to take care of this while I take care of you."

"Kyron."

"Shh. Let me feel how wet you are for me," he says, pulling loose the lace of my breeches. His fingertips inch between the leather and my heated skin. He caresses me, working his way down with teasing touches. When he reaches my center, he rubs that sensitive part of me that causes his name to slip from my lips. The ache grows stronger, unable to subside without more.

"Please," I say with a whimper.

"Please what?"

I have no shame, no desire to hide my need. "Give me more."

He slides two fingers down my slick seam and dips his fingers inside. "Fuck. You're so warm."

I lift my hips from the saddle, eager for him to go deeper and faster. "You make me like this. All you have to do is say the word, and I'd spread my legs for you."