The King's Lover-Chapter 460: Pick Up The Quill

"Your Majesty," Rose cried and slapped her shoulder to stop him from running his tongue all over her, but this made him move to her ear. He sucked on it, lightly biting.

"Don’t forget the lesson," she mumbled, trying to get him back on track. It was unlike him to be like this during her lessons. Still, she knew not to put anything past him.

"I won’t," he said, adjusting her some more so she pressed down against his groin.

Rose didn’t like her excitement at the hardness she could feel underneath her. How could she scold him not to be distracted when she was also easily distracted?

His hand moved from the table to her red hair, and he moved her hair to the side to give him more access to her neck. His hand around her waist slowly moved upwards, teasing the underside of her breast before grabbing it through the thin nightdress.

Rose had to clamp her lips together to keep from making any sound, but Caius wasn’t oblivious to her reaction. She had to remind herself that now was not the time. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"Pay attention, Rose," he scolded, his tone filled with amusement as his fingers moved across her chest.

Rose scowled as he took the words from her lips. She tried to pull his hands away, but Caius wouldn’t budge. He teased at her neck relentlessly, and she squirmed in his hands, but Rose didn’t want to give in. She still had her hand clamped on her shoulder, refusing to give him full access.

"If you don’t move your hand, you can’t write," he teased against her neck. His breathing was hard and his voice hoarse.

"Are you not supposed to tell me what I am to write?" she questioned. Her voice had that slight hitch of excitement.

"Perhaps," he mumbled and pulled away from her neck.

Rose let out a breath; they could return to the lesson, but her relief was cut short as Caius slowly started to undo her hold on her shoulder, one finger at a time, with his free hand.

"Your Majesty," she called, but it sounded more like a plea than a need for him to stop.

"Hmm."

Caius succeeded in prying her hand from her shoulder, intertwining his fingers with hers. He guided their joined hands to the table, pressing her palm flat against the cool wood.

"Pick up the quill," he ordered.

He was speaking too close to her; she could feel every breath on her ear and neck. It didn’t help that his hand on her chest never stopped teasing her nipples.

Rose did as he requested, and as soon as she touched the quill, he spoke again.

"Write your name," he murmured against her ear, his breath a warm shock. Rose tried to pretend she didn’t feel the shiver that ran from her earlobe to her waist.

"That’s easy, isn’t it?" he asked as he moved his fingers upwards, trailing her arm until he got to her shoulder.

"I-I can’t," Rose stammered, her mind a haze of sensation.

"You can," he insisted, his voice a low, velvety command. "You’ve done it a hundred times. Ignore everything else. Just the letters."

The hand that had been kneading her breast through the thin silk of her nightdress slowed, his touch becoming unbearably gentle. He was tormenting her.

"If you keep touching me like that..." she trailed off, shifting slightly on his lap and feeling him harden further in response. A small, traitorous part of her thrilled at the evidence of his desire.

"That’s too bad," he mumbled as he kissed her neck. "Is that all it takes for you to be distracted?" His free hand was slowly inching up her nightdress.

Rose swore; his tone annoyed her and he was clearly enjoying himself at her expense. She forced herself to concentrate; this was clearly another game for him. She couldn’t let him have the win, even though it was very tempting.

"Just my name?" she asked instead. "I could write that in my sleep."

She could feel his smirk against her neck. With her hand away, he had full access to do as he liked. His tongue was warm and wet as it traced a path from her collarbone back to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Then prove it," he teased.

Rose gripped the quill, her knuckles white. The paper before her blurred. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to summon the shape of the letters. But all she could feel was the rough texture of his breeches against her thigh, the insistent press of his arousal, and the maddening, circling motion of his thumb over her nipple.

She managed a shaky downstroke. The ’R’ looked more like a deformed ’P’.

"Focus, Rose, or we’ll be here all night," he breathed, his free hand finally slipping underneath her nightdress that he had pulled up to her thighs.

Rose gasped as he inched too close; his fingers were calloused and hot against her bare skin. Any moment now, he would touch her in her most intimate place.

How was she supposed to focus like this?

Another gasp escaped her as he pinched her nipple gently, then soothed it with his palm. The quill scratched a wild, illegible line across the page. She was losing; all she could concentrate on was his hands on her skin.

"Distracted?" he teased.

Rose sucked in a sharp breath and forced the quill down again. This time she didn’t look at him. She stared at the paper as if it were an enemy she could defeat through sheer will.

Another stroke. Cleaner. More deliberate.

"There," she said through clenched teeth, her waist twitching as he traced lines on the inside of her thighs. "Satisfied?"

"Hmm, almost," he said. "Again."

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

"Am I?" he asked as their eyes met, and he pressed a finger against her heat.

Rose felt her eyes roll to the back of her head and she turned to mush in his hands.