The Queen's Tale Read Online Free Page A

to open so wide; a very unladylike amount to put inside her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with all of it. She wiggled her tongue around the fullness, surprised that there was no taste, really, only smoothness, slicked by the wetness of her own saliva.
    Somewhere above her, she recognized the hurried twist and tug of his arms. There was a swish of rope falling, but she was too busy to care. The heat of his open hands suddenly hovered over her head in benediction, then dropped with a faint metallic jingle as his fingers slipped behind her neck into her hair, gripping hard.
    “Mehhnaaaa…” He exhaled the last of her name with longing.
    No one had called her Mena in years. It was a sweet name, a pet name, far too undignified for a queen. Philomena smiled, accidentally popping him free of her lips.
    He groaned and shivered in her hands.
    “You like that?” She tried it again, tightening her lips as she pressed the head of his cock in and out. His hips began to shift, almost imperceptibly, then more forcefully, the chuff of his breath marking the motion.
    The sound and motion made her giddy as she realized what he sought to mimic. He liked it; he liked it very much. One hand awkwardly cupped her head, encouraging her. Don’t stop. Don’t go. Once more …
    She released him, pressed her tongue to trace a wide path from the stiff root to the smooth tip.
    Dante’s hands dropped heavily to her shoulders. He swayed, his breath cutting the silence with short, sharp pants.
    Nuzzling the smooth muscled cradle of his pelvis, Philomena wrapped one steadying arm around his thighs. Her other hand slid up the back of his leg to cup the weighted muscle of his bottom cheek. She inhaled deeply, holding him tight, feeling everything low inside her twist with the luscious scent and feel of this man’s skin. She could not sit still.
    “Did that make it better or worse, Dante?” she murmured.
    Her eyes were closed but she recognized the jingle-clink of his chains, right before he caught her under the arms and pulled her up in a motion so sure and sudden she could not resist.
    He opened his arms, resting the weight on her shoulders, encircling her. Startled, she gasped. Dante pulled her close,capturing the sound that might have summoned the guards in a kiss.
    Philomena tensed her neck, resisting. She jerked her bottom backward, rocking the footstool off balance. One second they were together, the next they were tipping.
    His reflexes were better trained than hers, thank heavens. Slipping free of his linked arms, Philomena plopped butt-first onto the carpet. Dante followed, his grim expression floating over her before he flipped to land with an undignified thud alongside her.
    “So help me, Mena—” He sounded winded. “When I get…”
    Philomena covered her face with her hands…and laughed. “I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to speak to me so familiarly, sir. However, under the circumstances—”
    “Under the circumstances?”
    “—I shall make an exception.” She wiped tears from her eyes. When was the last time she’d laughed so hard? Ages. Years .
    “You honor me, Your Highness.” Dante rolled onto his back, studying her painted ceiling as if it held the secrets of the night sky. His hands were cupped casually over his belly, his erection resting lightly on top of them. He turned his head and grinned. “Care to honor me again?”
    “Perhaps.”
    Philomena marveled at his aplomb. What would that be like? To be so aroused, and still calm. To enjoy the sensation for minutes at a time, even with another person watching. Her own body was creating a panic of awareness: the piercing tightness in her breasts, the slippery moisture between her legs, the throb that made it hard not to flex her private muscles and squirm…
    “What next?” She forced the whisper through her tight throat.
    “Next?” He rolled close, kissed her mouth softly, pushed up on one elbow and slung his leg over her. “Reach me