362: I Want You

I Want You

Orinan's hands glided upward from Arlan's chest to his shoulders, where she held on for support. She subtly shifted her body closer to his, her face drawing nearer to his, her gaze fixated on his lips.1

Arlan, with his eyes half-lidded, watched her in quiet contemplation. Anticipation surged in his heart as he wondered how she would take the lead- Will she be shy or bold?

When she came within mere inches of his face, she whispered nervously, "Could you please close your eyes, Your Highness?"

Despite her boldness and recklessness in other aspects of life, intimate moments like these evoked the same fear and nervousness in her as they would in any other woman. Furthermore, beneath his watchful gaze, her anxiety only deepened.

Despite his inebriation, Arlan comprehended her words and obediently closed his eyes. Witnessing this, Oriana felt a surge of relief and summoned the courage to finally proceed with the act.

'If, by some chance, you happen to remember this tomorrow – though I fervently hope you won't,' she silently mused, 'do not hold me accountable for this audacious act of intimacy with my master. After all, it is you who has tasked me with this as my punishment. I bear no responsibility for it.'

She studied his face intently, knowing that this might be her last chance to see him up close. He embodied the essence of true handsomeness, an enchanting presence that could captivate any woman fortunate enough to lay eyes on him.

'I may be a witch," she thought, "but he seem to be the one who has cast a spell on me.'

Finally, she proceeded, her delicate lips brushed tenderly against his, the warmth of her mouth tinged with the lingering taste of wine.

Arlan couldn't help but tense up, though it was entirely expected. Her lips were so soft, their gentle contact sending a surge of excitement through him. Before he could savor the sensation any longer, Oriana withdrew after a fleeting moment.

Displeased, he reluctantly opened his eyes, only to find her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, as if all the blood in her body had rushed to her face. The sound of her racing heart echoed in his ears, and her shy gaze met his, filled with anxious anticipation.

Unable to maintain eye contact, she lowered her gaze and began to withdraw from him, as though she had completed the task he had assigned to her, but even before she could move an inch, his hand resting at her back, stopped her from doing so.

She gazed at the inebriated man before her, a puzzled expression on her face, only to hear him whisper against her lips, "Is this what you call a kiss?"

Embarrassment washed over her, and she stammered, "I..."

"Do you want me to teach you?" he offered.

She stared at him, feeling speechless and even more embarrassed. Inside her mind, she wondered, 'He's clearly intoxicated. Can't he just overlook this? I did what he requested, even if it was just...'

"I haven't satisfied my thirst," he murmured, his tone softer this time. 

She watched as his expression suddenly shifted, transforming from curiosity to something that appeared almost sorrowful, as if he felt wronged.

'I'm the one who's being wronged here,' she thought, a hint of exasperation creeping in. 'Why does he look like I've just bullied him?' She couldn't help but inwardly sigh, thinking, 'He's like a child when he's drunk.'

'Alright,' she tried to calm herself, 'just get done with it quickly.' The grip of her hands on his shoulders tightened once more and she supported herself to be able to kiss him.

"Your Highness," she whispered, her voice trembling, "close your eyes."

Arlan obeyed, shutting his eyes, and in the next instant, he felt the gentle, delicate touch of her lips pressing onto his. This time, it wasn't just a fleeting brush; her lips attempted to capture his, though in his opinion, it was a somewhat clumsy effort.

Her sweet lips softly suckled and nibbled at his, but he remained as still as a statue, almost as if he were testing her abilities.

Though she had begun hesitantly, Oriana gradually gained confidence. However, seeing Arlan not making the slightest effort to participate, she felt a growing sense of frustration. 'How am I supposed to kiss him properly if he won't cooperate?' she thought, exasperation building. 'I feel like a I am squirrel, nibbling on soft slice of fruit.' But then she thought, 'Why does still feel so good as if I want to keep doing it? I want him to kiss me back but he....'

Growing frustrated, she resolved to end the kiss, beginning to withdraw her lips from his. However, a strong, manly hand suddenly pressed against the back of her head and forcefully drew her back into the kiss. Oriana was taken aback by this abrupt action.

"Umm..."

Those warm lips continued their gentle and deliberate exploration, sucking and nibbling on her lips, alternating from side to side while tenderly cradling her head. Oriana didn't resist his kiss; the moment he asserted his dominance, her body yielded to him. She had always found it impossible to resist him.

Oriana reclaimed her composure, gripping him tightly to maintain their fiery and insatiable charade. Her eyes remained closed as she luxuriated in the pleasures he bestowed upon her.

Arlan drew her nearer, his hand at her waist pulling her closer still, their bodies melding together. His eager lips delighted in the taste of his mate, and his long-thirsting soul finally found solace. The agony of being so close yet unable to touch her had tormented him.

His untamed tongue ventured past her parted lips, eagerly sought for hers with a greed to devour it. As Oriana complied to his wishes, his tongue twist and turned with hers in a perfect symphony, filling that quiet and dimply lit chamber with soft moans and the heavy pants from the pair of mates.

Under the spell of that passionate kiss, Oriana felt her senses slipping away. The ardor of this seductive figure before her proved more intoxicating than the strongest wine. Though just a kiss, it was like a midnight fire ready to melt her in the waves of pleasure. 

After what felt like an eternity to Oriana as she almost felt suffocated, only then Arlan stopped. Both their eyes remained closed, forehead pressed together as they grasped for air. Their connection went far beyond just a kiss, their bodies humming for more. 

Still in a state of agitation, he whispered again, "I am still thirsty." His voice laden with desire yet the same time turning weak.

He was on the brink of losing consciousness, "...I want more..."

Oriana gradually regained her senses, heard him clearly. She didn't understand what had come over her, but her hands that were resting on his shoulder, moved to gentle cradle his cheeks, her thumb gently caressing them, she raised her gaze up to look at the intoxicated man in front of her. 

Arlan somehow opened his eyes look at her, only to find her face closing that little distance between their faces and she kissed him. 'He said he wanted more.'

Though intoxicated, how could he not like it. His woman being bold, taking liberties with him. Once more they resumed that passionate kiss, Oriana taking over the lead.

Oriana didn't know when his hand hand yanked away her head wrap and freed her hair. Now her long and beautiful hair was left open, cascading along her slender back.

Arlan held her even tighter and in one fluid motion, they ended up on the carpeted floor. The transition didn't startle Oriana as they swiftly settles on the floor, their passionate kiss remained uninterrupted. He was on top of her, his heavy body pressing her under him. Her beautiful flowing hair spread like a crown around her head on the carpet below.

In the chilly chamber, the temperature seemed to rise as their bodies radiated the heat of passion. Neither was willing to relent. His wandering hand traced along her curves, slipping beneath her shirt to caress her soft, yielding waist, his fingers playing with tender flesh. 

Oriana felt alerted as she whispered in her kiss, "Your Highness...."

He didn't stop; instead spoke in raspy voice, "I want you to pleasure me.... I want you to touch me..."

Oriana couldn't comprehend the meaning of his words. He locked eyes with her, his heated gaze meeting the dewy one, "I want you....I want my mate..."

His last words left her puzzled, but she took it as talk of drunk man. The next moment she realised the way his body had heated up and feeling his unmistakable response from below, she grew increasingly alarmed. Though he was drunk, she was still clear headed. She needed to resolve the situation before it gets out of hands.

"Your Highness, we should stop. You need to sleep."

He gazed at her in a silence, and after a lengthy paused, he finally spoke. "You don't want me?" His gaze as if she was being unreasonable with him. 

pqdm.com