Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife-Chapter 338: Memories

Then his lips drew her in and surrounded her with the hot, sweet, sucking motions of his mouth. Each gentle tug plucked corresponding chords of response deep within her womb. They were glorious, mind-blowing, compelling. Reflexively, she came up to a kneeling position, making herself more accessible.

Lucian cradled her breast between his hands as though he drank from a life-giving chalice. When he withdrew his mouth, he nuzzled her with his nose and rubbed his hard cheek against her before taking her into his mouth again.

Her clothing kept getting in his way, and it aggravated her as much as it did him.

"If I slide your blouse off your shoulders, will you pull your arms out of the sleeves?" he asked hoarsely. "Please, love." He did not want her to remember those bad memories of when she was taken by the Empress and Caelan had mistreated her. He wanted the good ones to come back to her.

She nodded.

He peeled her blouse from her shoulders and guided her arms out of the sleeves. Suddenly embarrassed, she clasped her bra against her breasts. They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. She noticed that a vein in Lucian’s temple was visibly ticking and that his jaw was clenched.

"Are we going to stop here?"

"No..."

She removed her hands, and her bra fell forward onto his lap.

He smiled at her and let out a deep exhalation.

Using both hands, he touched her hair first, the individual features of her face, then her lips, which were swollen and rosy from his many kisses. His fingers combed down her throat, chest, and the slope of her breasts. He stared at her as though she were a miraculous creation.

"Show me what you want me to do, my love."

Taking his face between her palms, she guided it to her breast and watched as his lips sank into her flesh. Her nipples grew stiff against his caressing tongue. His mouth gave her unbearable pleasure.

With a groan, he fell back onto the pillows, brushed her bra off his lap, and groped for the zipper of his pants.

His right hand worked frantically to undo the stubborn zipper. When he finally did it, he spread his fly open, exposing only a wedge of black boxers. Nevertheless, the shape and dimension of his erection were evident. Ave stared at it in astonished disbelief.

He reached up with his hand to cup her flushed cheek.

Though they might have done it before in Pendragon like he said, it was completely new to her in this time, and seeing how hard he was for her brought a flush of heat to her face. Her lower abdomen throbbed and clenched.

When she was once again kneeling between his thighs, he slowly lowered her arms, which she had subconsciously crossed against her breast, down. "You’re so pretty," he whispered.

One kiss melded into another until it was impossible to distinguish when one ended and another began. His hands were in constant motion around her body. They caressed her neck, her back, her waist, her breasts. Ave was no longer timid about touching him, either. His chest was uncharted territory that she explored with inquisitive hands and curious, but cautious, lips.

"Go ahead," he murmured when her lips hovered above his nipple.

She licked it daintily and discovered how exciting that was. She was a grown woman with a son, and this was the first man’s body she’d had access to in an intimate way. It was a wonderland of new experiences for her eyes, hands, and mouth.

Frequently, Lucian’s lips returned to her breasts. He kissed them repeatedly. With the nimble tip of his tongue, he could make her almost delirious. She folded her arms around his head and clasped him tightly to her chest, loving the feel of his thick hair against her smooth skin and the warm, wet motion of his mouth.

Her center grew achy. The lips of her sex pouted with an influx of blood and desire. To ease the feverish ache, she instinctively arched her pelvis and ground it against him.

He muttered a curse.

She didn’t realize that he had slipped his hands beneath her skirt until she felt his palms sliding up the backs of her thighs. "Is it all right, my love?"

She could only moan incoherently.

His hands moved over her buttocks, palming her, pulling her closer. Then he lowered his head and nuzzled the valley of her thighs through her skirt.

"Oh!" She gasped at the burst of pleasure the unexpected caress brought her. Her thighs liquefied. She clutched his shoulders tightly. He splayed one hand over her buttocks and moved the other to the front panel of her panties. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing through the soft curls above her sex.

Ave didn’t even think to be ashamed. Rather, she released a ragged sigh and bent her head over his.

"Open your thighs a little, love."

His fingers were gently questing, persuasively stroking, applying no more pressure than the beat of a butterfly’s wings. She inched her knees farther apart.

"That’s it," he whispered encouragingly. "Lord, you’re moist." He nudged her breast, then turned his mouth into it. "Silky moist."

His finger slipped between the swollen flesh but didn’t penetrate her. Gently, slowly, he separated the full lips to expose that most sensitive spot to the revolving strokes of his finger. By instinct, Ave began to undulate against his hand.

The candlelit room began to shrink around her. Her universe was reduced to the center of the bed, the center of her body, where Lucian was giving her more pleasure than she had ever dreamed possible. His tongue was on her nipple, flicking it as delicately as the pad of his finger was moving over her slippery clit.

Her tummy quickened. Her breasts heaved on each rapid breath. Heat consumed her. Shamelessly, she rode his hand. When the pressure became unbearable, when her body had become a heat chamber, she caught his muscled shoulder between her teeth to keep from crying out as the shattering release came.

He fell back among the pillows, bringing her with him so that she was sprawled across his chest and belly, her legs lying between his. He strummed her spine, stroked her bottom, massaged her shoulders.

Her head remained buried in the hollow of his neck. On her descent, she breathed deeply of the scent of his cologne mixed with her perfume. Occasionally, a tiny tremor shimmied through her.

Eventually, he placed his hands on either side of her head and lifted it so he could gaze into her face. "You did good, my heart," he whispered huskily.

She ducked her head in embarrassment. "I never knew it would be so... familiar and yet new."

They stared at each other and laughed softly. They kissed softly. Then they kissed carnally, their tongues entwining. Lucian unfastened the waistband of her skirt and pushed it down her thighs. His hands slid into her panties. His palms closed over her buttocks, drawing her up.

"I want to feel you against me, love. Your wet, your heat—against me." He groaned.

She wanted to feel him, too. Moments before, she had thought that all her desire had been exhausted in one act. Instead, his kisses were already renewing the longing ache that was at once new and yet familiar.

She kicked away her garments and stretched out over him. When Lucian caressed her again, his hands touched naked flesh, and he groaned. He continued to pull her up his body until his mouth could reach her breast.

It seemed natural for her legs to part. Her knees separated to straddle his waist. He wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and slid them up and down in a caress that made her weak.

"Lucian, please."

She couldn’t specifically name what she was begging for. But she never would have anticipated what he gave her. Grasping her hips between his hands, he drew them up as he leaned forward off the pillows. He buried his face in the soft curls between her thighs. To keep from pitching forward, Ave gripped the headboard behind his head.

He kissed her hot, throbbing warmth slowly.

"Lucian—" she moaned.

He slipped lower and kissed her again, his mouth open and loving. She almost fainted from pleasure when she felt his tongue—separating, searching, finding, tickling, stroking—while his hands massaged the backs of her thighs just below her buttocks.

The roaring in her ears returned. Her heart rate accelerated. A rosy blush spread upward from her core to her taut nipples.

It was about to happen again. She wanted it. And yet...

"No." She tried to draw away from him. "Lucian, no. Stop."

Having heard the key word, he released her but looked confused and anxious. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I want you inside me."

She peeled back his boxers and lowered herself over the tip of his shaft, which was already moist from its glistening emission.

The first rhythmic contractions were already seizing her when she took the smooth head of his organ between the protective folds of her sex. Her body pulsed around it.

He moaned something profane, his hands gripping the tops of her thighs. Sliding one hand down, he grabbed her buttocks and pressed her onto him as they began moving together—slow at first, then faster as she took control. The way she moved made his eyes roll back, a deep groan escaping his lips as his hands roamed her body, desperate to feel every inch of her.

Ave called his name as her climax rocketed through her. She impaled herself on him, then collapsed on top of his chest while the spirals of sensation continued to curl through her, along with a flood of memories she gladly welcomed this time around. They washed over her with vivid clarity, and she didn’t realize when she began to tear up.

Lucian wrapped his arms around her slender body. He needed nothing more than penetration to make him come. It was when he felt her sob silently that he realized the moisture trailing down his chest wasn’t sweat but her tears. He began to push back in alarm to see her face, but she held on to him and shook her head.

"Just hold me, hold me." She sobbed. "I miss you so much, so very much..." She cried as she pressed her lips against his chest and ran her hands around his shoulders and down to her forearm.

Lucian clutched her tightly, a smile tugging at his lips as he swallowed back the emotions threatening to choke him. "You’re finally back, my love. I missed you—I missed you so damn much!" He pressed her against him as if he could merge their bodies into one. No words could describe the overwhelming joy of having his wife back—his Aveline, his once again. His eyes burned with tears, and this time, he didn’t hold them back. He let them fall.

He had never thought he would see this day, not after watching her disappear before his eyes. But now, she was here, real and his once more. He let his lips linger against her hair, breathing in her scent, now mingled with his and the remnants of their lovemaking. Running his hand slowly up and down her spine, he whispered, "Will you come back with me to Pendragon?"

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she lifted her head and kissed him.

As their lips met, she answered him without words, her body pressing closer. Lucian pulled her into him, deepening the kiss, and soon they were lost in each other once more.