Vhalla sighed softly, tilting her head to expose more neck for his waiting lips. “Aldrik ...” she pleaded as his mouth reached her collarbone.
“My lady.” A kiss. “My love.” Aldrik whispered over her skin between heavy lips.
Vhalla’s hand found its way into his hair, shamelessly tousling it as she grabbed. He was always the paragon of perfection. The imperial crown prince, buttoned and shined into an untouchable idol. She wanted to wipe it all away. She wanted to have the man beneath. Vhalla wanted to bring out the rough edges of her prince and rub herself against them until they fit hers flawlessly.She wanted to make him hers.
His hands were all over her, as though he was molding and shaping her form from clay. Vhalla pressed her eyes closed, giving into the new sensations. Every prior experience with men became hazy shadows. Aldrik’s every movement was as much for him as it was for her, and when his hands pulled away, Vhalla couldn’t suppress a groan of surprise and frustration.
“What?” she said, breathless.Had she done something wrong?Her hands hadn’t yet wandered anywheretooforward, at least nowhere his hadn’t been exploring on her.
“You are divine,” Aldrik revered before glancing away ashamed. “AndI want you.”
Vhalla swallowed. “Then have me.”
Aldrik tugged away from her groping with a shake of his head. “No, I... You deserve better than this.”
“It is not up to you to decide what I deserve, that’smychoice,” Vhalla observed. “I want you, Aldrik.” Somehow he had the audacity to appear surprised at her confession. “I need you. I love you. You love me. That’sexactlywhat I deserve.”
Vhalla left the other truths surrounding them unsaid: the fear of her own mortality, of having almost lost him. Any day could be the day this beautiful yet fragile thing they were creating could break. The number of things trying to pull them apart was daunting, which made every heated desire to come together even stronger.
She felt the same way she had at the gala, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Vhalla wouldn’t let him be taken from her, in any capacity, without really knowing him first. She had wanted him for so long without realizing it, and now she had. She was going to be lost if she wasn’t able to use his skin as a roadmap back to sanity.
“I don’t want you to be some cheap camp whore on the wrong side of the sheets.” Aldrik’s thumb stroked her cheek.
“Then have me as your lady.” Her soft laughter turned into a cooling sigh as she relented to his protests. “Aldrik, if you don’t truly want—”
Vhalla tasted the kiss he gave in on. She felt the final scrap of his self-control dissolve and his hands were moving once more. They were hasty and desperate to cast aside the last of the physical and mental barriers that separated them.
Everything culminated in stunning intensity. Vhalla was certain the men and women in the other room would hear each piece of clothing that was discarded on the dusty floor, the falling fabric rang so loudly in her ears. He swallowed her every moan and she breathed out his air.
His hasty words, asking once more for her consent were almost lost to the heartbeat in her ears. Vhalla wanted to scream it to him:yes!She wanted to shout to the Gods above that the man in her arms would never be stripped from her again. But a gasp of affirmation was the only noise she could manage.
They were a tangle of limbs, kisses, and magic. It was like the Joining all over again, compounded with the taste of skin and sweat and heat. She lost herself in him, in that place of peaking emotions and sorcery. Vhalla gave into a bliss that was far too sweet to last.
Boneless and spent, Aldrik’s arms curled lazily around her. Her legs snaked with his, and she rested her head on his chest, two forms of unbroken skin. The prince pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Vhalla,” he whispered.
“Aldrik?” she replied softly.
“Are you all right?” His fingers ran thoughtfully though her hair.
She laughed. “How is that even a question? I am beyond wonderful,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, even to her own ears. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“Would it scare you if I told you I felt the same?” Aldrik’s voice was a tender whisper, soft as silk. It was a voice she doubted anyone had ever heard before. “Vhalla,Gods, Vhalla.” He sounded frightened, lost, and nervous. She tightened her grip on him and held onto the closeness they had cultivated. “I know I am not supposed to love you. But I do, andnothingwill change that fact now.”
It was a pained confession, and his arms tensed. He acted as though his brain fought an internal struggle, a struggle to which his body firmly objected. Vhalla shifted closer to him and took a deep breath. The world was full of the heady smells of him—smoke, sweat, and fire—combined with the tangy notes of sex. It was a scent of their making that carved a satisfied little smile into her lips.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
His throaty laughter was like music. “You are mine.”
“You are mine.” Vhalla was eager to lay claim to the man in her arms.
Aldrik paused, as if bracing himself. But when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing more than a large yawn escaped his lips.
Vhalla giggled softly. “I think you should sleep, my prince.” “Stay with me?”
“Where else would I go?” Vhalla nuzzled closer to him, her eyelids growing heavy.
