Destiny moaned as his fingers moved faster. An intense buzzing was building in her belly, her core clenching. She let her head fall back against Hunter’s chest, her hips rocking as she chased her orgasm.
“Grey and Xander will undress you. We’ll take turns licking your pussy, your ass, your perfect tits,” Hunter said, his voice a caress. His fingers moved firmer and faster, and Destiny was so close it hurt. “We’ll make you cum until you’re soaked and begging for our knots. And then do you know what we’ll do?”
Destiny’s hips jerked, the rhythm of her movements growing more erratic as she neared her peak. She shook her head, unable to find her voice. Hunter understood.
“That’s right, Kitten. Then, we’re going to fuck you. We’re going to fill every one of your perfect holes until we make one thing very, very clear. And do you know what that one, very important thing is?”
Hunter’s fingers moved even faster, and Destiny was barely holding on. She knew his next words would destroy her, leaving her irrevocably ruined for anyone but Pack Stepanov. And she wanted that. God, she wanted it so badly.
“What?” Destiny moaned.
“You’re ours, Kitten,” he growled. “You’re mine.”
Hunter bit down on her neck then, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin. Destiny shattered. Her orgasm tore through her, racking her body with tremors and quakes that seemed to go on and on. When they finally stopped, she sagged against Hunter weakly, her limbs soft and rubbery.
Hunter held her up easily with one arm, using the other to clean her up—the utility closet was conveniently stocked with clean towels—before smoothing her dress back into place. He kissed her temple, her hair, the back of her neck, murmuring praise while she caught her breath. He held her like she was some precious, treasured thing and she wanted to capture the feeling in a melody so she could listen to it again and again.
“As much as I’d like to spend forever holding and kissing you like this, we should probably get to the press conference. We’re part of the show, after all.”
Destiny’s heart stopped for a moment, his words touching some deep and primal need inside her. She thought she’d like to be held and kissed like this forever. She could almost see it—how she’d curl up in his lap on cold winter evenings, Xander and Greyson on either side of them, enveloping her in their warmth and their irresistible scents. It was far too easy to imagine.
She forced herself to pull away, banishing the thought. “Right. Press conference. Time to charm the masses.”
Hunter grinned, pulling her close again and nuzzling her neck, and making Destiny’s toes curl in her boots. “The masses should be charmed by your mere presence. You’re a queen. Go on ahead. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
He kissed her hard and fast, leaving her breathless, before urging her from the room with a playful swat on her behind.
Destiny practically floated toward the pressroom. This time, she returned Damon’s smug grin. There was no point in hiding her feelings, when it was obvious her friends saw right through her anyway.
The pressroom was a surprisingly cozy space with comfortable but elegant seating arranged in a semicircle on a slightly raised dais. The journalist seating looked like an upscale café, with armchairs clustered around dark wood pedestal tables. With the roaring fire and Christmas decorations, Destiny felt like she was at a small holiday get together, rather than a press conference.
Of course, the reporters soon reminded her otherwise.
The queen and kings sat together on an antique sofa positioned center stage, starting the press conference by sharing details about the festival and answering a few follow-up questions. Destiny had been seated on a couch with Princess Natalya, opposite another holding Pack Stepanov. She did her best to keep her gaze from lingering on the three alphas, especially when she found their eyes on her more often than not.
“Prince Alexander, is it true that you and Destiny Duvalle have been feuding during her visit to the castle?”
Destiny’s attention snapped to the reporter who’d abruptly changed the topic after the queen’s description of the tree lighting contest. The young beta looked smug, watching greedily for a reaction. Destiny gave a practiced polite smile.
The prince smirked. “It’s certainly true that you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
Several people laughed. Prince Alexander turned away as if he were going to take a question from someone else, but the young reporter wasn’t so easily deterred.
“So, you didn’t call her a ‘stuck up clout chaser’?” he demanded. “Miss Duvalle, were you offended by the prince’s opinions? What about Prince Ammar’s comments in which he agreed with Prince Alexander’s description of you?”
Though she held her smile, Destiny wanted to roll her eyes. What a desperate, boring attempt at getting a rise out of one of them to get some juicy content for another clickbait article. The real story here was how she and Prince Alexanderactuallyfelt about each other, but the media idiot was too focused on controversy to notice the way they couldn’t seem to stop looking at each other.
Destiny prepared her answer, refusing to look across the stage to where Pack Stepanov sat. Even so, she was acutely aware of them, a low thrum of electricity seeming to tether them to one another. It tugged at her, no matter how much she tried to focus on something—anything—else.
Destiny’s traitorous gaze drifted to Prince Alexander. He was watching her and gave her that lopsided grin that so annoyed and flustered her. But when he spoke, his voice was sincere.
“The only thing that article got right was that my unsavory exploits are well-documented. Many of you have made sure of that.” The prince paused, letting the crowd laugh at his joke before continuing. “Everything said or implied against Miss Duvalle is completely false or based on overhearing me venting in a moment of wounded pride. I’m a bit of a spoiled twat, so my ego was easily bruised when I met a woman who rightly called me on my–”
“Alexander,” King Anton warned.
The crowd laughed again. Prince Alexander gave his parents an endearingly sheepish smile, his blond hair falling over those mischievous sapphire eyes. He turned his electric gaze her way next, and Destiny had to remind herself to breathe.
“I feel qualified to say that Prince Ammar was probably in a similar mood when he agreed with my childish words.” Prince Alexander didn’t look away from her and, though she didn’t break eye contact, Destiny knew his packmates were watching her as well. “Destiny Duvalle is a consummate professional and an ideal guest. Her presence has been an absolute delight to us all, and we are very pleased that she’s extended her stay. I, personally, am looking forward to showing her the amazing treesour citizens have decorated this evening, which have raised over twenty-five thousand euros for local charities.”
