He thought that he was spent—that his body was far too tired to do anything else, but the moment she brought his semen up to her chest and began rubbing his very essence onto the pinkened skin of her neck, that animalistic instinct took over once again.
Kaya gasped when her head hit the pillow, eyes going wide as she watched him lifting the skirt of her gown. He pushed it up so that the fabric bunched around her waist, her sex and the fact that she wore no undergarments now completely on display. But Ilias made no indication that he even questioned it because he was on her in moments, spreading her legs and moving into the opening with such fluid grace that her head spun.
He spread her apart with his fingers, lightly prodding her drenched entrance as he leaned forward. “How do you want it, princess? Slow and easy or fast and rough?” His voice was a low growl, his nose and lips making a trail up the side of her neck before he pulled back and looked into her eyes.
Kaya grit her teeth, hips bucking as the pad of his thumb brushed over her peak. She could barely remember her own name, let alone remember how to talk. But she found her voice, hidden under the shaky breaths that escaped her lungs with each taunting swirl of his thumb. “Rough.” She gasped, eyes dropping to where his fingers began teasing at her again.
Ilias inhaled, a low rumble sounding in his chest that had her whimpering, attempting to push herself down onto his fingers. He splayed one hand across her stomach, pinning her in place as he finally—thankgods—slid two fingers into her.
She’d felt so empty, so achingly empty that the girth and length of his fingers had her toes curling.
She moaned loudly, hands fisting the sheets above her head as he began pumping them in and out of her. Slowly, at first, too slow to be satisfactory. But as much as she would have loved to move with him—guide him at the pace she craved, she was under the force of his hand.
“Faster.”The word was clipped, a desperate plea and her brow crumpled, lips parting. Her mouth was suddenly consumed by another desperate and sensual kiss. She welcomed it. She took it, but it was still not enough. In her frustration, she groaned against his mouth. Another plea gone unanswered and unfulfilled.
“So spoiled that you’ve forgotten how to say ‘please’?” Ilias crooned. His cock was hard again, veins throbbing and begging to fill her. He was surprised at his own restraint, at his ability to be patient. Because he had an idea—afear—that the wait would be so, so worth it.
Kaya growled, sharp incisors gleaming in the dim light of the moon. “You either take me as I am or not at all.”
He would be a fool to object.
So he obliged.
Rough, fast, and just as she had asked for, he slid his fingers in and out of her. Her walls convulsed against his appendages, slicking them with her desire and her need.
Ilias moved his hand off of her stomach, claiming her lips and swallowing, lapping at, and devouring each moan and gasp that sounded from her lips. She hooked her arms around his neck, fingers curling into the hairs at the back of his head as he pushed another finger into her. He continued his relentless pace, fighting himself with each arch of her back and open-mouthed cry she dispelled.
He extended his thumb once again, strategic in its placement so that each thrust of his fingers rubbed against her bundle of nerves. She cried out—walls clamping down around him, but his pace didn’t slow.
He drove her closer to the edge, shuddering with delight as he watched her frantic unraveling.
Stars burst behind her closed lids.
Kaya threw her head back, her body arching into the explosion of pleasure that rocketed through her system. Ilias murmured praises into her chest, inhaling his scent on her. He fisted his cock, stroking just as hard and fast as the movement of his fingers until he found himself spilling onto her thigh.
The room was filled with an echoing silence. Their panted breaths the only sound, but it was not near enough for either of them to be distracted by the realization of what they’d just done.
There was no regret. No shame. Justsomany questions.
“Do you think we smell convincing enough?” Kaya asked, still panting. She arched her brow, a satiated grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Ilias loosened a breathless laugh, pulling himself up so that he was looking down at her. “I’d say we do, princess. Now all you have to do is be obscenely rude and obnoxious to scare them away.”
“Oh, I candefinitelydo that. One of my many talents, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
He was. But as much as he was aware of her ability to piss people off, he was also overtly aware of the fact that he wanted her to save all of her smiles forhim.
Chapter 7
“Ahalfblood?” The Credulan king’s face was red with anger, his hand curled around the hilt of a sword that would serve him no purpose in Holiadon. Before he would even be able to draw his weapon, one of the guards would have knocked it from his grasp.
Ilias had become used to people being displeased with his lineage. He was used to them taking one look at his curved ear and scoffing at his existence. He’d been spit on, beaten to a pulp, and tossed around more than he could count. The words and the names no longer bothered him.
It was the look on Kaya’s face that made him feel that dull ache that he hadn’t felt in years—the anger in her eyes, the hardness of her jaw as she listened to the Credulan king insult him was utterly heartbreaking.
Because this was what he’d so foolishly asked her to commit to. An eternity of his being incomplete forever marring her image. A lifetime of him having to defend himself and prove himself worthy of their acceptance.
Kaya did not deserve that ridicule.
