Page 55 of The Poison Princess and the Lord of Misrule

“Does it hurt?—?”

I shake my head, my hips moving of their own accord, sounds leaving my throat I’ve never heard from myself.

“Gods, the sounds you make,” Ren all but growls next to my ear. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

I cling to him. My hips move against his hand, taking him, riding his thrusting fingers, and the war in him bleeds through every touch—the love in the tenderness of his fingers, the loathing in the tremor of his arms, the agony of knowing he is preparing me for another man even as my body comes apart for him.

“I want you to come,” he breathes as he works me higher. “I need to feel you come around me, Princess. Let me feel you taking me…”

“Ren—” The tide is cresting now, sharp and bright and unbearable. My head tips back, and his fingers sink deeper, hitting that deep ache that makes me unravel.

Another ruthless oath falls from his lips, then his mouth covers mine, swallowing my sounds, his fingers relentless as he brings me to the edge. “That’s my girl. You’re doing so well. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Come for me, Sera.”

A cry escapes right before the pleasure breaks through me.

I shatter against his hand with his name on my lips, muffled into his kiss, his teeth scraping my lower lip as my whole body trembles. My fingers fist in his motley as the pleasure tears through me in wave after wave. He holds me close, his arm banding around my waist to keep me upright, his mouth gentling against mine, his fingers slowing, coaxing every last tremor from my body until I sag against the wall.

And when I open my eyes, I find him watching me with an expression that shatters me further.

His jaw is tight, his muscles corded, and there’s something cracked open in his face—some terrible, tender devastation—as though watching me come undone for him has split his chest wide and shown him his own heart still beating in the wreckage.

His finger swirls deep inside me, and my hips buck, the aftershocks coming alive once again.

Ren grips my jaw in a firm but tender hold, forcing my eyes on him as he works me, kindling another fire low. “So fucking wet,” he says, voice low and ravaged. “And still begging to be fucked, gods damn.”

He releases a dark growl, his fingers rubbing me until I’m a trembling mess.

A soft moan tumbles out, and he works me harder, faster, bringing me right to the precipice again?—

Then he removeshis fingers.

His head drops between us, his breaths ragged. “Now you’re ready,” he says.

I swallow the ache crawling up my throat, my body humming with unmet need, unable to stop the grind of my hips. He’s leaving me wanting, needing more…

For him.

I feather my fingers through his hair, drawing his eyes up to meet mine. Then I kiss him tender and slow, letting my need remain with him, showing him that I want only him.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispers hoarsely, smoothing my skirts back down with hands that shake. He presses his forehead to mine, his breath shuddering.

An ache burns in my throat. “How am I supposed to go to him now,” I whisper.

His hands frame my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks “Nothing about this is supposed to happen. But if you don’t walk out that door right now, I won’t let you go, Sera.”

He releases me, taking a step back. The empty air replaces his body heat, leaving me cold.

“Go to him,” Ren says, and a broken sound leaves me.

“Please.” He drops his head, his voice dropping with it, fierce and low.

I push off the wall, my hands reach for him, gripping his wrists, and for one suspended moment I think he’s going to stop me?—

Then I turn, pushing the door open.

“Find me in the dark,” I whisper. “When it’s over. Promise me you’ll be there.”

There’s a long beat of silence. Then he says, “Every day. Same time. I’ll wait for you until the gods themselves drag me away.”