He eases back, much like he did in the shower, giving me time to look at him, admire his beauty. When I take his cock in my hand, Feylin closes his eyes and his breath staggers.
His eyes flutter open, and mine rise to meet him. A knot lodges itself in my throat, and I’m barely able to swallow pastit. He wraps one arm around my back and steadies himself with the other while he lays me down.
The rug is soft and cushiony under my back. It’s the only soft thing in this moment as Feylin positions himself on top of me, and I fold my legs around his hips and gasp when the head of his cock flirts with my opening.
I hitch a breath, and he looks up, his dark eyes, resembling liquid onyx, taking me in like he’s looking into the depths of my soul.
He lowers his forehead to mine, and I shudder against the prickles of energy that skate down my spine. His nose touches mine, and then his lips brush my mouth and his tongue slips between my teeth as the head of his cock parts my flesh and drives into me.
This is the moment that the joining was made for—this moment, when two people come together as one. His first thrust is slow, deliberate. He waits while I stretch to take him, easing himself inside bit by bit until he’s up to the hilt.
Then he pulls back, and with it, the intensity of the magic builds. If I’d thought that the fire and explosions pounding my skin couldn’t become more intense, I was wrong.
His thrusts are surprisingly gentle, and his mouth doesn’t leave mine when he fills me up slowly, giving me all of him. And I take it. I want all of him inside of me for as long as I can have him.
He moans into my mouth, and I swallow it, giving him my own moan of pleasure that he takes. The pressure builds, the desire between my legs throbbing painfully as Feylin’s thrusts quicken and deepen.
I’m riding a wave of magic, of ecstasy that rises high. The power between us throbs. My entire body aches with pleasure every time he drives into me. His kisses becomes heartbreakingly tender and his thrusts deepen until I’m cracked open, mybody splintering and shaking as I clutch him hard, my sex quivering and pulsing around his cock.
He whispers one word—“Addison.”
Then he shudders and collapses onto me, both our bodies slick with sweat.
It’s in that moment that the magic, the joining, the power that’s held us together for weeks, forcing us to be bound to one another, shatters us apart. The wave of power overtakes me, hitting me so hard it feels like I’m being slammed against a brick wall.
It swallows me whole and everything goes black.
38
When I open my eyes, familiar wooden slats greet me. The room smells faintly of cedar from the paneling, and I inhale deeply as I pull my down duvet to my chin.
For one brief moment I’m blissfully happy. That’s before all the memories from the past day slam into me like a truck going eighty miles per hour.
Pain slices deep into my chest as I relive my heart being broken into two jagged pieces. Tears prick my eyes and I slowly exhale a stuttered breath to calm and center myself. The sorrow doesn’t subside. It doesn’t even hide. It’s right there, in my chest, tearing me apart bit by bit.
Feylin used me. This was all a game. I meant nothing to him. I was nothing more than a piece on a chessboard, my heart ready to be sacrificed for his needs.
That’s the be-all-end-all truth. So now it’s time to focus on other things, like?—
I’m home. I’m here. He sent me away after I fell asleep. Good. I couldn’t have looked in his eyes again anyway.
And since I’m home, my family has some explaining to do.
I crawl out of bed, my muscles aching (not just the ones between my legs), which is probably due to having sex on the study floor, even if there was a bearskin rug between me and it.
Luckily the king didn’t magick me naked into my room. He’d had the decency to make sure that I was dressed in a camel-colored long sleeved cotton top and bottoms. First things first—put on clothes that don’t remind me of the castle.
The floor’s cold against my bare feet as I pad over to my closet. I swing open the double doors and find a closet stuffed to the gills in colorful dresses and gowns.
Good grief. It’s all the clothes that were stocked in my room, and even the ones we got from the tailor. I slam the doors and brace my back against them, taking a few deep breaths to steady myself.
So, no closet.
After rummaging through my dresser, I find a pair of leggings and a red sweater that seems suitable enough. As soon as I open the door, I’m met with the familiar sound of bickering sisters and my father, who always tries to calm them.
“You said that you’d go with me to the concert,” Finn accuses.
“Well, I’m busy that night,” Georgia tells her. “Find someone else to go with.”
