Page 159 of Fall Before Her Throne

He moved in slow but firm motions while he drew my mouth back to his. Neither of us was interested in rushing. All we wanted was to relish in each other and forget the rest.

Thrust.

I whined against his lips. One hand brushed against my nipple.

Thrust.

I lifted myself higher on his cock and let myself slowly drop. He groaned against my neck.

Thrust.

His teeth dug into my shoulder, and my head tilted back.

Thrust.

His thumb circled my clit. His lips explored my skin. I wanted to make him lose control, but he was singularly focused on my body. It was overwhelming. That genius mind at work, obsessed with my pleasure, was an indescribable feeling. He played me like an instrument he’d known his entire life.

It was slow and torturous, but it was the fucking sexiest thing I’d ever felt.

“Obi,” I sighed, feeling the waves grow higher. I was so close. “Don’t stop.”

“Never.” He held my ass while he kept his thrusts exactly where I needed them.

My nails dug into his shoulders while I let out a cry. My eyes squeezed shut while I rode the waves on his cock. There was nothing better than this. Better than the love of my men. He gripped the nape of my neck and thrust upward, spilling inside me with a low groan. He didn’t stop leaving a trail of a thousand kisses across my upper body while I desperately tried to catch my breath.

“A hụrụ m gị n'anya,” he murmured in my ear.

I pressed my cheek to the side of his. A fine sheen of sweat covered my chest, but all I wanted was more him, more warmth. He brushed some hair away from my face.

“Come here.” He drew me into his arms and picked me up. With one hand he clutched me close, and with the other he spread a blanket in front of the fire. I had plenty of them strewn around the house for whenever I got cold, so he snagged another from the other couch. “Lay down.”

Together we sprawled in front of the low flames, and he covered us both with the blanket.

I rested my cheek against his chest and just breathed until a sound drew both our attention to the kitchen. I stiffened, but Obi sat up, bracing himself on his forearms. “It’s just Max,” he said quietly.

With a sigh, I relaxed, but my eyebrows knitted together in confusion before I realized what Max was doing.

“Is he…cleaning?”

He wiped down all the counters and tidied up the papers Ciel had left there earlier. Then he put all the dishes that were waiting in the dish rack away. Next, he sprayed some cleaner on the microwave and wiped it down. All in the dark.

“No wonder the house has been so clean the last few days,” I said, loud enough to draw his attention.

Max startled with a low shout before he whirled in our direction and caught sight of us in front of the fire. He did a double-take, froze, and then shifted.

“Sorry,” he called, voice quiet. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine.” I snuggled deeper against Obi’s chest. “You can come over.”

Max set the cleaner spray down and then shuffled near. In the fire’s glow, it was a little hard to tell his cheeks were pink, but the way he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head gave it away.

I took it easy on him and broke the silence. “Why are you cleaning so late? When I told you to clean earlier, I didn’t mean in the middle of the night.”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well. I didn’t think anyone was awake.”

I looked up at Obi. “We couldn’t sleep either, so we were talking and then rested in front of the fire.”

“Is everything all right?” he asked.