Before I could trail my gaze across his beauty once more, his hand closed around my throat, forcing me back into the wall with a harshness I craved. “Do you like what you see, my pretty little prince?”
Groaning, I bucked my hips forward, pathetically attempting to grind my length on any part of him that I could reach. I found his muscled thigh, and it welcomed me with an openness I craved. Leveraging it, I rolled against him like a bitch in heat, willing the pleasure-filled whimper to tumble from me.
“Oh? Are you that desperate for me? For mycock?” His irises darkened, lips curling into a seductive grin as he lifted his knee, adding more pressure to the high I was already chasing. “I believe I asked you a question, did I not?”
“Y-Yes,” I panted, my breath hitching in my chest as he tightened his hold.“Please.”
“Now there’smy good boy.”
My cock ached at the praise, something I’d grown hungry for after chasing it my entire life. It was an act so simple that it could blow my knees out from beneath me, robbing me of any thought or title. And bythe gods, it was an utterance I yearned to hear, one that would gladly turn me against my father if it meant I could hear it again.
My eyes rolled back, enthralled by the huskiness in his voice. The instant darkness greeted me, so did his lips. He took his time, kissing up my neck with a sluggishness that spoke of his desire, hisneedto control. His teeth served as confirmation, nipping against the sensitive skin of my throat with every intention of marking me, something we both knew presented a risk but continued to indulge in regardless.
Craning my head to the side, I granted him the space to explore, encouraging him to keep going. He wasted no time, his tongue gracing my pulse point. His breath chilled my skin, goosebumps rippling across it with a relentlessness I never wished to cease. He was intoxicating—a wine I would never tire of tasting, a drug I would never curb my addiction to.
Gracing my collarbone, his words came like the blessing I’d always waited for. “Tell me how you want me.”
“Inside me,” I whined, my eyes opening to meet his lust-filled stare. “I don’t care how, but I just need to feel something other than the impending responsibilities that await me. My father?—”
His mouth slammed into mine, silencing me before I could inform him of the burdensome weight I carried and the damnation my father had cast me into. It was an abyss filled with obligation, societal restrictions, and everything the very marrow in my bones revolted against. I desired nothing more than to escape the confines of royalty, to break free from the shackles of all that awaited me and the expectations I’d never fulfill.
Because I didn’t fucking want to.
All I wanted was him.
Heavy and heated, fueled by the unspoken feelings we shared, our kiss bound us together in a complex web of emotions. It contained the vows we wished to commit to and all we couldn’t express because my lineage prevented us from doing so. There was nothing more that I wanted than to spend my life with him, but we both knew the nuancesof our titles prevented us from even exploring the full depths to which we yearned for one another.
He was one of my right-hand men, tasked with guarding and devoting his life to me. Yet, even as I watched my father swear him into his rank, I knew he would’ve offered his essence for mine without the implications of hierarchy. And where I wished for nothing more than to provide for him, the crown and my inherited responsibilities snuffed out any possibility. My last name tied me to the people of Serevalen, and as a consequence of my father’s never-ending need for control, the entire continent of Wraelira.
Percival and I were bound by service, not by love, and I loathed everything about that realization.
Using my agitation as motivation, I nipped his bottom lip, earning a growl of approval. As his self-restraint slipped, he palmed my chest, every knead a display of his inability to resist his building desires. Finally, he allowed the reins to slip, clawing across the fabric responsible for clothing me with every intention of destroying it. One second, he was exploring, and the next, his fingers curled around my tunic. Tearing it from my frame with refined speed, he freed me from the constricting demands of being a Marellan.
And as soon as the last strand of material slid from my body, I came undone.
The layers we wore peeled themselves from our bodies between each sloppy kiss and exchange of saliva. My hands roamed, caressing the raised scars littering his arms, back, and stomach, blemishes that displayed just how far he was willing to go for me—forus.
Threading my fingers through his silken locks, I tugged, forcing us to part, if only briefly. As I secured my grasp, his chin tipped skyward, his enchanting emerald stare meeting mine. Searching my hooded gaze, his blown-out pupils hunted for any sign or warning of what I was about to unleash on him.
But I didn’t give him the chance.
My palm slammed into his chest, forcing him onto my bed in the center of the room. The windows on each side of its frame glistenedbeneath the sunlight, and unlike the throne room, its rays filtered through the varying colors of glass. It breathed life into the room and wrapped Percival in its radiating warmth, bathing his bronzed skin in a rainbow pattern that marked him with the very definition of celestiality.
My god and my damnation wrapped into one—a man whom I desired to worship more than those I prayed to.
He propped himself up on his elbows, the plush duvet threatening to swallow him whole. “Well, my beautiful prince, what exactly are you waiting for?”
My canines dove into my bottom lip, piercing it with enough force to draw blood. Basking in its coppery tang, I prowled toward him, coming to stand between his legs at the foot of the bed. With the same sluggishness he’d kissed my neck with, I trailed my fingertips up his bare thighs, watching as the carnality bloomed within his irises.
“Have I ever taken the time to tell you how stunning you are?” I questioned, craning my head to the side as my touch continued, brushing over his hardness.
“Every damn day.” He pushed himself up, wrapping his hands around me, kneading my ass with reverence. “And it is something I will never tire of hearing, for any word you utter is pure poetism in the dullness of our reality.”
Lifting my hand, I trailed my thumb over my lip, gathering the blood that pooled there. As I reached forward, my tongue followed its phantom touch as I brought the offering of myself—my very life force—to the man sitting in front of me.
“Taste every drop of my devotion to you.”
His tongue curled around me, swirling around my thumb with an attentiveness I knew he wished to provide elsewhere. Unblinking, he held my watchful stare, pleasure swallowing every hue of green and replacing it with the inky black of his pupils.
