The Priestess of Camelot: Prequel to The Heirs to Camelot by Jacqueline Church Simonds

Author:Jacqueline Church Simonds [Church Simonds, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

And so March sped by with days filled with planting and otherwise being the healer everyone knew, and my nights being the king’s mistress.

And ever my thoughts ran to Merlin, riding out in the country. How could I explain this to him when he returned? How make him understand my heart was now divided? For I wanted him still, even though I craved Arthur. How could a woman want two men so desperately?

One night when Arthur and I were lying in the daybed, Arthur playfully began sucking on my earlobe. “What are you doing?” I asked, laughing. Shivers were radiating down my neck and making it feel as though sparks were leaping off my nipples.

“Tasting you,” he said around my lobe.

“What?!” I tried slipping away from him, but he held me too closely.

“Remember I said that not all women taste the same? So, I’m tasting you.” He stroked me slowly.

I shivered. “And what do I taste of?”

“Hmmm,” his deep voice rumbled inside my ear. “Lilacs … sage, yes … and parsnips.”

“Parsnips?” I giggled. “You are too silly!”

“I happen to like parsnips,” he said, with a pretend-serious look on his face. His fingers slipped down my belly. He traced the outlines of the Great Tree tattoo there. “What does the tree represent? Why do you have it etched into your skin?”

“It is given to the woman who becomes high priestess at Viborg.” I could not tell him of my ascent into the Sacred Water, and how it still swirled in my mind. It was not permitted for a man know this.

He spent a long while tracing the outlines into my pubic hair. It was as if all of my senses narrowed down to that touch. That gentle trace of a finger along the sacred ink lit my desire as nothing he had done so far. And he knew it. Over and over, he followed the lines of the sacred tattoo. My lust built and built until I could no longer contain myself, and I exploded in ecstasy.

I returned to myself with Arthur chuckling softly into my ear. “I don’t know what your Sisterhood intended it for, but I believe I have found another use for that tattoo.”

I could not help but laugh. What would Jasoslava have thought of such blasphemy?

I rubbed my hands over his well-muscled back. I could feel the scars there, permanent marks from his armor and battles. Then I reached down and found his hard manhood. It pressed into my hand. “Let’s see what you taste like,” I said. Scooching down, I ran my tongue up and down his rod, tracing the vine-like path of the big vein. I slid it in my mouth and took him deeper, back and forth.

“Anya,” he moaned. His hands were buried in my hair, and I could feel his shaking fingers on my scalp. “Oh my God, Anya!”

I knew he was nearly ready. Playfully I kissed my way to his mouth. “And you taste of leather, alder wood … and those spicy pears Lavena makes,” I whispered.

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