This I could help with. I could distract him.
I dropped our joined hands to my thigh and let my legs fall open in unmistakable invitation.
Arran’s beast rumbled in appreciation. “Your jealousy is showing.”
Even as he said it, he was dropping to his knees.
“I am not jealous,” I insisted, lifting my leg very accommodatingly and hooking it over the arm of the throne. “I am reminding your former lover of her actual status.”
Arran huffed a laugh against the inside of my knee. I wore a layered wool skirt, slit to my hips to make for easier movement. To compensate for the cold, I’d donned thick stockings pulled up to mid-thigh, well above my boots.
He caught the top of one stocking with his thumb, dragging it down my thigh, digging his nail into the soft flesh as he went. He slid his tongue over the line of subtle pain. Up from the corner of my knee to the apex of my thighs, where my pussy pulsed with need.
“Veyka,” Arran growled from between my legs, his hot breath torturing my clit. “You seem to have misplaced your undergarments.”
His face was too busy to see my wicked smile, so I gave him a wicked laugh instead. “We were short on fuel last night. I burned them.”
A hum of approval vibrated against my pussy lips. “Burn them all,” he said. Then he dragged his tongue up the seam of my cunt.
Neither of us was thinking about Morgause or her son anymore.
33
ARRAN
She tasted fucking amazing. The saltiness of sweat, earned when she battled the Dolorous Guard, mingled with the sweet plum and primrose that was uniquely Veyka. She tasted like life.
I slid my thumbs back up her thighs, passing the boots still on her feet, until I reached her burning core. With one thumb on either side, I pulled back her pussy lips to expose her fully. Wet desire slid down her seam, gathering at the deep ‘v’ before falling to coat the soft skin just above her puckered rear hole.
What a fucking invitation.
One I intended to exploit. Fully.
“So wet for me, Princess,” I growled.
I’d taken her on every corner of this continent. But never here in the court that had made me into the Brutal Prince.
Veyka’s choice of location was not accidental. Morgause had made a mistake. The Dyad was powerful. But only one female in Annwyn sat on a throne. And the next time Morgause came to sit on this one, she’d find its wood soaked with evidence of Veyka—and the way I worshipped her.
I caught that bead of wetness and the one that followed. My knuckles kneaded that soft inch of skin before circling her tight hole. Too tight, still. I’d happily do the work to prepare her.
I buried myself in her cunt fully. Breathing was unnecessary. Not when her musky scent filled my nostrils and her juices flowed freely to my lips. I worked my tongue deep into her, curling it into the most sensitive parts of her channel. It wasn’t quite as effective as my fingers, but I had time to ignore efficiency.
When her hips began to buck off the throne, I knew she was close. A second later, she threw her head back and wetness flooded my mouth. I circled once more, then slid my thumb into her beautifully puckered ass. She tensed for half a second, her body resisting the intrusion. Then she yielded, welcoming my touch with a moan. I would never tire of possessing her like this. Every corner of her body, every facet of her soul.
“I’m burning all my clothing,” she huffed, taking carefully controlled, deep breaths as I eased my thumb deeper inside her. Her come provided all the lubrication I needed and more. So beautifully pink, she gave herself to me fully.
“Tell me what you want, Princess.” If it was in my power, it was hers.
Veyka’s hand landed on my shoulder, curled up the nap of my neck to tangle in my hair.
“Everything,” she gasped. “I want everything.”
Deal.
I plunged my tongue into her pussy in time with the penetration of my thumb. If I could have reached her mouth, I would have rammed my rigid cock down her throat.
Next. After I made her come around my fingers and all over my face.
