Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

a surprise, but I had to remind myself that it isn’t as widely practiced in this world as it is in Savona. It doesn’t bother me, I am fine with selfishly keeping you to myself.”

“Would you let me…” My words trail off for a moment and I have to press my thighs together just thinking about this act, because I want it, not only for him, but for myself as well. Leaning in, I clear my throat before I whisper. “Would you let me use my mouth? You don’t have to finish, but to play only?” I ask.

“It is not done,” he grunts.

“Yes, but since there will be nobody else doing it for you, I would like to.”

“And you wish for me to do this as well, to denounce my masculinity?”

I jerk back, my eyes wide. “Denounce your masculinity?” I breathe.

“We will discuss this at a later date.”

His words are final and I turn back to the orgy, wondering when we can leave so that I can cry in peace. There is a rumbling sound in the distance outside, but I ignore it. Instead, I stare straight ahead, seeing absolutely nothing.

TIBERIUS

I’ve upset Drucilla somehow, though I’m unsure what I’ve said or done. She cannot think it some big surprise that I do not wish to place my mouth on her like a servi. It is not what my people do. She cannot be upset about this.

Once we’ve stayed the appropriate amount of time, I guide my bride toward our cubiculum. The time has come for us to be together. I have waited as long as my body will allow.

The pain has been intense, but I should and have, suffered through it. She was not ready to accept me back into her bed after the betrayal. Whether or not I was forced to betray her, I did, and that is all that matters.

Once we are inside the warm cubiculum, I close the door and put the barrier in its place so that we will not be disturbed. Tonight is about more than just being together. This is about the future, about our people, and about healing.

“Drucilla,” I murmur as I watch her walk over to the window.

“The wolf is still there, there is always one there, day or night. It’s never the same one,” she breathes.

I hum. “They watch over you, they keep you safe.”

“It’s strange to me. You say that I’m their leader, though I have no idea how to communicate with them or what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“The time will come where it will make sense,” I say.

She turns her head, peering at me from over her shoulder. “Will it?”

Nodding, I continue to watch her. “It will. The gods do not tell us their plans, but they do not make mistakes and they know what it is that they do.”

“Always?” she asks.

“Always.”

She turns all the way around to face me, the moonlight, candlelight, and firelight highlighting the most desirable parts of her body, her gown almost see-through in the lighting. Her hair is still perfectly up in the elaborate braids and twists that her girl put it in, her crown perfectly in place.

Everything about my bride is near perfect. It is clear that the gods created her just for me. Watching her for a moment, taking her in, I wonder what our future will hold. Now that we can converse with one another, now that we can express our likes and dislikes, it is no longer up to the gods whether we get along or not.

Aside from physical attraction, aside from destiny, we must still fall in love and before that can happen, we must fall in like with one another.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

I watch as she takes a step toward me, then another. I don’t hold my breath, though that is my first reaction. This moment seems pivotal. As if I should be holding my breath, praying to the gods, or both. I do neither.

“I am thinking that you are perfect and beautiful,” I admit. Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek, sliding my thumb along her cheek. “You are also dangerous,” I rasp.

“Dangerous?” she breathes.

Dipping my chin, I press my forehead against hers. “Dangerous, melculum. To my people, to my world, to my heart.”

Saying the words, I do not know why I voiced them, but I have been thinking it lately. She is dangerous. I can feel myself falling for her, emotions that I didn’t think existed, that I didn’t know I had inside of me, bubble to the surface at the mere thought of her.

She lifts her hand, wrapping her fingers around my wrist, she tugs my hand from her face. Then, silently, she sinks down to her knees in front of me. I grit my teeth together, unsure that I can do this to her, that I can take her this way. It is wrong. It goes against everything my people believe.

“Tiberius,” she exhales as she begins to remove my clothes.

Clenching my jaw, I look down at her just as she takes me inside of her mouth. I let out a grunt, the sensation of her mouth around me feeling like nothing I have ever experienced before. I want to close my eyes to really relish in the feeling of her hot wet mouth wrapped around me, but I can’t look away from her.

I watch her, seeing her move up and down along my length and I let out a growl. I am close to spilling down her throat, so I take a step backward. My breathing comes out rapidly and I stare at her in disbelief, my empress down on her knees for her emperor.

“Why does it feel so much better when it is you?” I ask, needing the answer more than I need my next breath.

Her lips curve up into a grin as she rises to her feet. I watch as she tilts her head back, her gaze focused on me, her lips still smiling. Then she presses her