Panic and thickening desire broke through my skin in a light sweat as he sucked my nipple and rotated his hips, the shudders of his body gentling. “It feels worse,” I thought aloud, fear entering my needy bones again.

  His mouth left my breast with a wet pop, and the king I’d grown far too enamored with began to return.

  He smirked down at me, but it was softer, his hooded eyes too, as he said, “I know.” Then he rolled off me. “On your hands and knees, butterfly.”

  Apparently, I didn’t move fast enough.

  He lifted and dropped me to the bed, and I yelped as he smacked my ass.

  He gripped it, squeezing so tight I would surely bruise. I moaned through clenched teeth when his own nipped the flesh, then shook when his finger slid through the mess he’d made of me.

  He rose behind me and knocked my knees open wider with one of his. A hand glided over my arching back, gooseflesh erupting and a purred sound leaving him. My hair was gathered and wrapped around his fist while he slowly circled my clit with his other hand. “Who put the bruise on your ribs?”

  The need I needed him to quell faster flared so acutely, it almost hurt when he stopped touching me and waited for me to answer.

  With the bodies likely still hanging in the drawing room two floors below, I couldn’t find it within me to hand over the guard, regardless of whether Fellan loathed me. After seeing what Florian did to males who danced with me and dared to touch me too much, I couldn’t imagine what he’d do to one who’d intentionally injured me.

  I moaned with feigned frustration that was all too real. “I don’t know. There were a lot of people at the festival.”

  He didn’t like that answer. But it was the only one he would get.

  My head was pulled back by my hair until my eyes met deep-sea blue. “Do not protect the undeserving.”

  “I need you to touch me,” I pleaded truthfully.

  He relented with a twitch to his eye, but his hold on my hair remained tight. “Where?” When I didn’t respond, he tugged. “Your pretty little cunt?”

  The word whimpered free. “Yes.”

  His chuckle was whiskey and ice. “Never have I enjoyed defiling a creature so much.”

  Jealousy pinched at my chest. I couldn’t keep from remembering the female he shared so much history with. “Who was she?” I panted.

  The king stilled, tugging until my gaze met his again as he loomed over my arched back. “Who?”

  “The female you were speaking with.”

  His eyes narrowed, then gleamed. A rough chuckle caused that pinch to turn into a burn. “I see.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  His finger slid to my opening, then inside me. My eyes fluttered, my toes curling with the digit as he stroked me with precision. “That I am here with you and satiating our needs should.” An intentional pause before he clipped, “She is no one you need to worry about.”

  “I want to know who she was to you.”

  “And I want you to drench my hand before I stretch you with my cock again.”

  I shivered, fighting the encroaching orgasm.

  Florian brushed my clit, and my thighs quaked. “She was then, and all I’ve been interested in for far too long is now.” Those gritted words confused but warned me he would tell me nothing more.

  He leaned over me to skim his mouth across my cheek. “Come.” He dunked his finger in and out of me, the digit growing ice cold.

  I startled, my flushed skin adoring the contrast, and gave in. All of me trembled as his magic-coated touch coaxed me to much-needed release.

  His lips rubbed my cheek with his praise. “Perfect fucking creature.”

  His iced finger withdrew, but his hand stayed wrapped in my hair as he slammed into me from behind while I struggled to stay on my hands and knees. My skin hummed with pleasure, and my breaths left me hard and fast, as I clenched around his invading cock.

  A groaned, “fuck,” rumbled from him as he planted deep and allowed me a moment to adjust.

  But only a moment. He reared back and eased back in. Once, twice, and on the third, he stopped. “You’re still jealous,” he said, smoothing a hand over my ass cheek. He slapped it when I didn’t respond. “Answer me.”

  “Yes,” I growled.

  He laughed, a deadly song that ripened and chilled my blood. “And you were even more jealous when you wandered off and then saw me talking with Nalia last night.”

  Just hearing him say her name incensed. He didn’t need me to answer that, and wanting to see how he’d punish me next, I didn’t.

  My silence earned me another smack and a squeeze of my breast. He tugged my head back again, then rocked his hips. I gasped as pleasure sparked. “You’re intentionally trying to get into trouble, aren’t you, pet?”

  I sucked my lower lip, but I failed to hide my confirming smile.

  He cursed and turned my head, his mouth claiming mine. His tongue swept in, then he stole my own with his teeth. He bit it, licked my upper lip, and broke away to stare at me intently. “You infuriate and arouse me like no other.”

  “The feeling is so very mutual,” I rasped, then smiled as I added, “Majesty.”

  His eyes thinned, but his mouth quirked. I was relieved to see it—the return of his usual arrogance, though I couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind seeing the fury-charged beast who’d stolen my virginity again.

  I also couldn’t deny that I just wanted him.

  All of him—every sharp and blisteringly cold and slow-to-warm facet. I wanted it all, and I couldn’t find it within me to be fearful of that when he looked at me as he did.

  As though he knew exactly what I thought, all I desired, and he was smug in his victory of taming me so thoroughly.

  He licked my jaw, and I mewled like a fucking cat.

  I had no shame, especially when he hummed his approval and released my hair to clasp my throat. Easing in and out of me, he rubbed my racing pulse and kept my eyes fastened on his, as he watched me rise toward the precipice of pleasure again.

  As I came apart, he growled into my ear, “I’m going to fill you with so much seed, no male will even breathe too close to you when you eventually leave these rooms.” Then he released my neck and leaned back to fuck me so hard, our skin slapped and sharp cries fled me.

  A hoarse roar sent me over the edge once more as he gripped my hips and stilled.

  “Fuck, butterfly.” It pleased me to hear his breath ragged and feel his body jerk with violent aftershocks against mine. He heaved again, “Fuck.”

  He withdrew, leaving me unbearably empty, and I scowled as he fell to the bed and swept a hand through his hair.

  “Tired, Majesty?” I taunted, shamelessly ogling the lean muscle of his thighs and lower abdomen. A light sheen of sweat glistened, and I leaned down to lick it from the dips in his abdominals.

  His cock hardened. “I fear I’ll never tire of you.” His stomach and teeth clenched when I gripped his length. He groaned. “Sit on me. Put my cock inside you.”

  The ache within me that refused to relent demanded I do exactly that. I licked him first, from the base of his shaft to the swollen head, uncaring of the bodily fluids still dampening the rock-hard flesh.

  He cursed viciously and tugged me over his chest. My legs settled astride him, my cheeks clasped in his hand while the other helped push his cock inside my body.

  To my lips, he whispered throatily, “You’re far filthier than I thought you’d be.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re disappointed.”

  “Sweet creature.” He grinned, and his lips glided over mine with each word. “We’ve barely scraped the surface of all the many ways I wish to corrupt you forevermore.”

  Wings spread within my chest, fluttering. I swallowed all of him with my eyes fastened on his and a moan washing over his lips.

  His lashes lowered and lifted when I splayed my hands over the tattoo covering his hair-dusted chest and leaned back. “Feel good?”

  “Yes.” He was so deep, it hurt. But I was so full, I’d never felt so good.

  “Roll your hips.” He watched my body move over his with his lip between his teeth. “Now tilt them back.” He groaned as if being tortured, his eyes lightening to a bright blue once more. Then he rose and wrapped my legs around him. His fingers dug into my hair, his other arm banding tight around my waist to grip my hip.

  I rocked over his length, my gaze fused to his, and said, “I want your mouth.”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  He smirked. “Would you like me to kiss you?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, the word a plea.

  Softer than I’d expected, his lips meshed to mine.

  He parted them. Unhurried, he devoured me with relish, and nipped my lips when I tried to do the same to him. His tongue skimmed under my upper lip, then dragged over my teeth.

  “Where next?” he whispered, sucking my lower lip into his mouth and releasing it with a scrape of his teeth. I moaned, an orgasm unfurling, as he said, “Here, precious pet?” and pressed his mouth to my throat.

  I mumbled something incoherent, my hips jerking.

  His hold firmed, my breasts squashed against his chest, as waves of pleasure shook me. “You’re going to be the end of me,” he said, hoarse, then stole my mouth and lifted me from the bed.

  Books fell to the floor as I was carried to the wall near the ice-sealed doors, still shaking from release.

  He gripped my rear and thigh and chased his own release. I held tight to his broad back and shoulders while, over and over, he drove into me.

  His teeth captured the delicate skin at my neck, but though I half hoped he would, he didn’t break it. He sucked as his rhythm slowed. Pressing deep, he emptied inside me with a gravelly groan against my pulse.

  I clutched the back of his head. My fingers rubbed and swam through the thick softness of his long hair. Needing more already, I tightened my hold, all the while wondering if this heat I’d dreaded would become something I might wish would stay.

  For I could get far too accustomed to this—his bruising hands and soft mouth and the aggressive hunger that matched my own.

  Sooner than I’d have liked, Florian set me upon the bed, and I smirked into the sheets as he collected the fallen books and placed them back. He entered the bathing room, and though I itched for him to return and douse the building need inside me again, my eyes closed.

  They opened what might have been only minutes later, his scent and nearing heat heady to my ripened senses.

  Florian picked me up as though I weighed nothing and carried me to the waiting bathing pool. Still holding me, he climbed in and set me upon a rock-hewn ledge within the water.

  I blinked at him in surprise and confusion, unsure what he had planned for me now.

  Reaching behind him into a basket, he plucked a caramel-scented soap and lathered it within his hands. “Come to me.”

  I dropped into the water and swam to him.

  “Wet your hair.”

  The pool was as deep as I imagined, my knees only bending slightly as I did as requested. When I emerged and smoothed my hair back, his lips parted. I brushed water from my eyes and tucked myself between his knees.

  He twirled his finger with a smirk, and I sat upon the rocky step between his legs and stared at the steamed window that spanned the length of the pool.

  “Are you sore?” he asked, his talented hands running through my hair to spread the soap.

  “A little, but not enough to care.”

  He was quiet for a minute, and I grew more aroused with every gentle rub of his fingers over my scalp. Ridiculous, I thought, yet I knew, even without the heat to blame, it would still be so.

  “What does it feel like?” he asked.

  “The heat?” Shocked not only by his curiosity but by the gentle hands cleansing my hair, it took me a moment to answer. “Hollow. Just so...” There was no better way to describe it other than, “Uncomfortably empty.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  I shook my head. “It makes me feel sick when ignored for too long.”

  Florian hummed. “And how do you feel now?”

  “Better,” I said as his fingers massaged my scalp a touch harder. As if he were waiting on a more detailed answer. “But I still want more. I still...”

  “Still what?” he asked, voice rougher.

  “Ache to be filled.”

  His hands paused, and he hardened completely against my back. “I would pay good coin to hear you say that to me again and again.”

  I laughed and dunked my head underwater to rinse the soap.

  When I emerged once more, Florian’s hungry gaze warned me of his intentions. My stomach still lurched with anticipation as he pulled me over his lap.

  “Put me inside you.” After fumbling for only a moment, I did, and he whispered to my jaw, “Kiss me.”

  Delighted to finally be granted permission, I explored his mouth. I kissed each corner of his lips, licked the full shape of each, and bit him when he tried to kiss me back. He laughed, quiet and soft, and I ate as much of the delicious sound as I could.

  My mouth traveled over his jaw, my tongue rubbing the sharp edge and the bristle. I ventured to his neck, found his pulse, and flattened my tongue to drag over it. He chuckled when I did the same to his Adam’s apple, and I admitted a touch breathlessly, “I’ve been wanting to do that.”

  He stared, time dripping away and unaccounted for, as I luxuriated in the absence of his typically stoic features. He stared at me as if both in deep thought and lost to the way my breaths came faster through my kiss-swollen lips.

  Then he kissed me, urgent and rough, before tilting my head back with his hand in my hair to torment my breasts.

  I rolled my hips to make his cock press exactly where I needed it. It didn’t matter that I’d already climaxed numerous times. The heat wasn’t done. I was far from done with enjoying this king I should loathe and reject with every corner of my soul.

  Though I knew with a certainty that should have shamed that even if I weren’t drowning in the need to mate until this heat ended, my body still wouldn’t care a thing for right and wrong and logic.

  It would still refuse to obey me whenever he was near.

  Release arrived swiftly, and on the cusp of welcoming it, Florian clasped my face. His mouth grazed mine. “Watching you come is a fucking addiction.”

  This unfeeling yet passionate king was an addiction. One I knew I would never crawl free from.

  And as I was delivered in a sleepy haze back to his bed, I realized it wasn’t the end of the heat that I feared.

  I feared what it would cement between us long before it did.

  I woke aching in strong arms.

  Florian slept soundly, holding my thigh over his hip and my head at his throat. I didn’t have the heart to wake him. I’d already done so twice since we’d left the bathing pool a mere few hours ago. So I tried to sleep some more.

  Florian must have scented it, or perhaps he’d sensed I’d woken up.

  He ordered thickly, “Roll over.” His fingers squeezed my thigh. “You’re to tell me when you need me, butterfly.”

  “You need to rest.” Yet I was desperate enough that I rolled away from his chest to face the balcony doors, which were still sealed in frost.

  He lifted my leg, his admission a throaty groan as he slowly pushed himself inside me. “My people believe it is an honor to see a female through the heat, and sweetest creature...” He licked the arch of my ear. “I’ve never felt so fucking honored in my entire life.”

  In an effort not to let those words burrow deep within my chest, I didn’t respond. To let them in would be a mistake when this king hadn’t a heart of his own.

  Florian set a tray of food on the drawers, the doors clicking closed and resealing with ice.

  I wasn’t hungry. Not for food.

  Two days had passed since he’d trapped me in his chambers. He seldom left them, and he certainly wouldn’t let me leave. He’d forced me to hydrate, and he’d even withheld more orgasms until I’d eaten.

  I studied his bare back, wishing he’d remove those pants and come back to bed. A bed that would need some serious tending to after this heat had left. I traced a smear of blood upon the bedding while he prepared dishes, his back still to me as he said, “Time to eat.”

  “You?”

  He stilled, then eyed me over his shoulder. “Careful, butterfly.”

  But I’d meant it.

  The hunger I now felt might have been foreign, but I was aware of what it was. The desire had grown with every hour spent together. I wanted to drink from him as he had me. It was a want so harrowing that my own blood pulsed in my ears with each step he took toward the bed.

  He crooked his finger.

  I crawled across the bedding to him without a shred of thought or shame, and gripped his pants.

  He tutted. “Not yet.” I glared up at him. He smirked, then ordered softly, “Open those lovely lips.”

  I did, and he bit into the strawberry before placing it between my teeth. With hooding eyes, he watched them sink into the fruit. “You make me want to kill anyone who’s ever looked at you.”

  It hurt to swallow, both the small bite of fruit and his words.

  He swiped juice from my lower lip, then sucked it from his thumb before offering me another strawberry. I chewed as he returned to the tray of food, unsure how I was supposed to move forward after this. After all of the feeding and fucking and feeling.

  I’d walked the finest of lines for weeks. Now, after the heat had forced my surrender, that line had disappeared.

  The loathing, hurt, and fear twined in a protective barrier around my heart refused to stay. He’d unraveled it so thoroughly and expertly that there was not enough left to return to when this ended.

  If it would ever truly end.

  He’d bathed me, fed me, held me, taught and learned me. He’d tended to the overwhelming evolvement of my body with a stamina few males would possess.

  I should hate him. A part of me still did, though it was now mostly due to the shame he made me feel for my growing obsession with him.

  But most of all, I was just... grateful. Relieved that it was him seeing me through the heat, and that I hadn’t needed to find a willing stranger or attempt to endure the impossible by waiting for it to pass.

 

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