He released his hold on her, and saw that he had left red fingerprints in her pale skin, on her thighs, her hips.
Had marked her perfectly.
She brushed her hair out of her face, damp with sweat, then she licked her lips as she moved forward, undoing his belt, the closure on his pants, and he was too far gone to make a game. He helped her strip the rest of his clothes off, helped her reveal his aching arousal, and when she leaned in and took his cock into her mouth he gripped her hair and surrendered.
She sucked him in deep, before releasing him, sliding her tongue down the length of his shaft, and taking him back in again.
She licked him like he was the finest of sweets, and he arched his hips up hard, forcing her to take him as deep as she could.
He could play this game forever, except his control was too tenuous, and he was afraid that he was going to come down her throat. Something he would’ve loved to do someday. With more time. With more hours to spare.
But that was for lovers who had the luxury of years. Of recreation. He had nothing beyond a few spare hours to claim her. And he would do it thoroughly.
Irrevocably.
He moved her head away from him, her face confused, dazed and pleasured.
“Mine,” he growled, kissing her mouth as he laid her back onto the pillows, kissing her deep and long, pressing his body to hers, her breasts against his chest, her hips against his, the hard ridge of his arousal nestled against her slit. It was a moment that he was going to pause and be in. Her all against him, the scent of her, the taste of her on his tongue.
But then, he could savor no longer. He parted her thighs, guiding himself to the entrance of her body, testing her, and finding her willing but tight.
“Just a moment of pain,” he whispered against her mouth before he thrust in deep.
The roar that clouded his vision, his brain, his body was primal.
His. Lucian might marry her, might claim her, might have children with her, but she would never be his. Not in the way that she was Andrei’s.
He would always be the first man to have her. It was all he could take. All he could call his own, and so he would.
He began to move, the feel of her slick, tight body all around him enough to make him lose control instantly. But he held on. This wouldn’t be the only time tonight. He would have her until they were out of breath. Until their voices were hoarse from screaming out their pleasure, but there would be only one first time.
He wanted it to go on for as long as it could.
His thrusts were measured, slow, all in the interest of drawing it out. Of keeping them suspended in this moment, but then her nails dug into his shoulders, her back arched and she cried out his name. His name. “Andrei,” she moaned. And he lost it. Completely. His thrusts became hard, totally uncontrolled, and he began chasing his own release, completely unable to put it off any longer.
And when he shouted out her name, it was both a curse and a prayer.
Because it didn’t matter how many times he had her tonight. He was going to be haunted by Princess Emerald for the rest of his life.
And tomorrow he had to deliver her to another man.
Chapter Six
WHENEMERALD WOKEup the next morning, her body was sore. There was no place that hadn’t been branded by Andrei. His hands, his mouth, his tongue.
She had been made his ten times over, in every way possible.
She was grateful for it.
But she wanted to weep.
She swallowed hard, looking over at the man sleeping next to her. He looked so much younger in sleep, carefree in a way that she had never seen him. He had been marked by trauma from the first moment that she’d met him.
And now they had scarred each other.
She might love him.
He hadn’t said that he loved her. She blinked hard, trying to hold her tears back. She really didn’t want him to say it.
