She deserved to enjoy herself, he thought again and again. His nose wrinkled, the mate bond screaming, his heart clawing its way to her.
There was no one to blame but himself. He swallowed the lump in his throat, but it was no use. Her desire wouldn’t fade, charging his magic like he was Vanir and not Fae.
Jealous, Prince?Solveig’s voice forced its way through his weakened mental barriers. Not that it would be particularly difficult—he’d never be strong enough to fully block her.
It took strength he barely had to keep his voice level and his emotions locked away. But they seeped through the cracks anyway.
Yes, he said, clenching his jaw.
She pushed the image of her in a room in Alfheim, the lace nightwear hanging loosely off her body, leaving little to the imagination.
He was going to be sick, but for some masochistic reason, he couldn’t force her out. Westley braced himself for the reveal of whoever was in her bed.
But the image never came. Instead, he saw her hand sliding down, over her breasts, her nipples peaked beneath the thin fabric.
Of my hand?
Westley didn’t know if he had the words to describe the overwhelming relief that crashed through him. Solveig’s soft laughter swirled in his mind.
What are you doing?he groaned.
What does it look like I’m doing?Her hand moved slowly—achingly slow—until she reached the tops of her hips, pausing.
Like you’re trying to torture me. Is this the payback you warned me about?
She laughed.Perhaps.
Her hand played with the waistband of her undergarments. He could do nothing as he sat in the small closet, his sisters asleep less than an arm’s stretch away.
When he showed her where he was, she paused her ministrations.
I’m glad you’re safe, she whispered, even though it was only the two of them.
Hopefully we’ll stay that way until morning.
Her demeanour had shifted when she spoke again, playfulness replacing the seriousness of his precarious situation.So what you’re telling me is that you’re trapped there with your sisters, unable to join me?
Westley groaned again, his canines aching. She was right, she was going to be the death of him. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d told him that in the Southern Wilds.
Where had this come from? What happened to her finding a husband? He was dying to ask about her search, but at the same time, he didn’t want to know anything about the male who would get to spend his life with her.
You know very well I can’t join you. Hopefully she couldn’t hear the despondency in his tone.
Do you want me to stop?Her voice dropped low as her hand disappeared beneath her clothing.
If he was smart, he’d say yes.
He wasn’t smart.
No, he answered quickly—too quickly. She laughed.
I could always find someone else to help me out.
He growled through their bond, primal and possessive. If she was thinking clearly, she would realize they were mates from that sound alone. But there was only her arousal. It pained him that she was so oblivious. At the same time, he was grateful for it.
Her other hand came up to caress her breast, putting Westley in physical pain. His cock became full and hard, pressing uncomfortably against his pants.
He sent his magic into her, charging her blood, adding his own need to hers, driving her lust to a new level. A wordless moan filled his mind as his magic snaked up her legs to the sensitive part of her thighs.
