Prue took in his words, her heart racing and her chest cinching. The despair pouring from his lips, the tortured agony etched into his face, was too much for her. Goddess, she wished she could take it all away for him.
But it weighed onher,too. He was not alone in this. How could she make him see that?
He needed something to jar him from this before he spiraled. He was too consumed by the raw and festering emotions, and she needed to wake him up somehow.
The slap had seemed to do the trick.
Maybe he needed more.
Before she could reconsider, Prue shoved him hard.
Cyrus stumbled again, nearly falling to the floor. When he righted himself, she dug the heels of her hands into his chest, pushing him until he fell against the cavern wall. With a grunt, he stared at her in bewilderment. “Prue?—”
“You want pain?” she asked, prowling toward him. “You want punishment? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” She slapped him again.
He groaned, a protest rising from his lips. She struck his other side before he could speak.
“You’re right, Cyrus.” She kicked him in the shin, and his knees buckled. “How dare you? How dare you give up everything for the woman you love? How dare you win your people’s loyalty by earning the crown and sparing them froma rule of tyranny at Apollo’s hand? You could have marched an army of demons to the Titans’ hideout, risking lives, commanding them to do your bidding. But you didn’t. I’m willing to bet my life that Lagosvolunteeredto come with you. Because I know him. He wouldn’t have let you go without him. His death is not on you.”
She pushed him into the wall, pinning him there with her hands, then drew her face close to his. “How dare you be the king your people need? How dare you be a loving husband who seeks only to serve his wife? And above all,how dareyou be a king whofeelsthings? Who endures the emotions and the guilt that comes with having a conscience?”
His nostrils flared, and he was gasping for breath. His face was red, and a thin line of blood trickled from his nose.
“Do you feel something yet?” Prue whispered. “Have I punished you enough?”
Cyrus grabbed her shoulders, and his mouth crashed into hers. Adrenaline still coursed through her body, and she shoved hard against him, pinning him to the wall with her body. Her hips rolled, and he groaned against her lips. His tongue ravaged her, gliding along her mouth. She bit down on his lower lip, and he let out a low growl.
In a swift movement, he spun her around, pressing her back into the wall, caging her with his arms. “You’ll be my ruin,” he murmured before his mouth claimed hers. “My destruction.” Another fierce kiss. “My undoing.” His mouth moved to her throat, where he sucked and nipped. Prue leaned her head back against the rocky wall, her eyes closing as pleasure rocketed through her.
Fabric ripped as Cyrus tore open her tunic, baring her breasts to him. She let out a hoarse cry as his hand cupped her breast. His other hand clamped over her mouth, cutting her off.
“Shh,” he hissed in her ear. “You don’t want the witches to yell at us again, do you?”
She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “I can’t promise to be quiet about this, Cyrus.”
He smirked. “Perhaps not. But we can certainly try.” His hands grabbed her ass, and he hitched her upward. She wrapped her legs around his middle, feeling his hardness rubbing between her legs. Goddess, the friction of him against her core was enough to undo her completely.
Holding her against him, Cyrus turned, then carefully lay her against the blankets on the floor. More fabric ripped, and a cool breeze nipped at her bare thighs as Cyrus tugged open her trousers. “Let me worship you, my queen.”
His fingers danced along her inner thigh, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning. With his other hand, Cyrus ran his thumb down her cheek, then tugged at her bottom lip, prying her mouth open. “Bite me if you need to,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “Bite as hard as you need.”
Fire coursed through her veins at the seductive heat in his words. Obediently, she caught his thumb in her mouth, letting her tongue circle his fingertip.
A grumbling noise of satisfaction poured from his mouth. “Gods, that tongue of yours…”
She captured his thumb between her teeth, then dragged them up and down.
He hissed out a sharp breath, his eyes darkening withlust. “If that’s how you want to play…” He inserted a finger between her legs.
Her hips bucked, and she uttered a strangled sound. He pressed his thumb deeper into her mouth.
Another finger curled inside her. She ground against him, demanding more. Those two fingers pumped in and out, the motion slow and torturous. Her blood boiled, the tension coiling tightly inside her. So much pain and anguish roiled and churned, fit to burst.Goddessdid she want to release it all. To unleash everything.
Cyrus’s fingers pushed deeper. Moisture pooled within her, the heat almost unbearable. His thumb pressed against her tongue, and she bit down again to keep from shouting his name.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take as much of me as you need, Prue.”
I need all of you,she wanted to say.Give me all of you.But she was too overcome with the violent sensations firing through her. His fingers moved faster, the rhythm pounding through her with relentless force. Her hips rolled as she rode his fingers, driving him deeper, harder, further. Her thoughts spiraled, her mind emptying of everything except one singular thought:more.
