The vicious king, p.25
The Vicious King, page 25
I use my hands to dislodge hers from my hair, then bring them together behind her back, pinning them in place. “This is what happens when you make demands, little sun. Now lie back and enjoy, because you are definitely what’s coming next.”
“I suppose there are worse ways to go than death by orgasm,” she says, giving in and letting her head drop back to the blanket. Her feigned disinterest makes me chuckle as I map a path of kisses across her belly until I reach the apex of her thighs once more. I’m pretending this is a lesson in patience, but it’s purely selfish on my part. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, a heady mix that drives me wild with need. I can’t resist tasting her again. Dipping my tongue into her folds, I savor the sweet, salty essence of her.
Gasping, she lets out a sharp cry, her hips jerking involuntarily. I press my tongue flat against her, licking a wide path from her entrance to her clit. She tenses beneath me, her muscles quivering, her breath hitching in her throat.
I release her wrists to slide my hands up her thighs, spreading her wider, giving me better access. I focus on her clit, circling it with my tongue, teasing it with light, feathery strokes. She moans, her back arching off the blankets, her fingers gripping the fabric so tightly her knuckles turn white.
I slide two fingers into her, curling them to find that perfect spot inside her, and she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me.
Encouraged by her response, I increase the pressure, flicking my tongue faster, alternating between sucking gently and lapping at her with fervent intensity. Her moans turn into desperate, breathless cries, each sound spurring me on.
She thrashes beneath me, her hands flying to my head, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer as if she can’t bear to let go. I can feel her getting closer, her breaths coming in short, ragged pants, her thighs trembling around my head.
I redouble my efforts, my tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony, driving her higher and higher. Her cries become more urgent, her entire body tensing as she teeters on the edge of release. I suck hard on her clit, and that’s all it takes to push her over.
She comes with a broken scream, her body convulsing, her inner muscles squeezing my fingers rhythmically. I drink her down, reveling in the taste of every drop that’s second only to the taste of her blood essence. I feel positively drunk on her.
And I only want more.
Needing to be inside her, I climb back up and align the head of my cock at her entrance. Her eyes meet mine, lust-glazed and pleading, and I push into her slowly, savoring the tight, wet heat that surrounds me.
We both groan as I sink deeper, the sensation overwhelming. I still for a moment, letting her adjust to me, our breaths mingling in the charged air. But my queen is done letting me call the shots.
Before I realize what’s happening, she’s flipped our positions, putting me on my back as she straddles my hips. My hands slide around to grip the cheeks of her ass, but I let her control her movements, watching enraptured as she lifts her hair off her neck and grinds herself on my cock.
She’s a fucking goddess, strong and powerful, yet soft and graceful. I’m definitely not complaining about the view. Skin gleaming, breasts swaying, pelvis rocking. The sight of her slick cunt swallowing my cock again and again is deviance in motion, living fucking art. Then something behind her snags my attention, and the air gets trapped in my chest when I realize what it is.
Her wings.
Streams of sparkling lights in deep purples and dark greens swirl in the air, then magically solidify into diaphanous, iridescent wings. The flame-shaped tips stretch six inches above her head with the bottoms lightly brushing the tops of my thighs every time she lowers herself.
Bracing her hands on my pecs for support as she picks up the pace, they open and close like a butterfly’s when it rests on a flower. They’re mesmerizing, delicate with thread-like veins that begin to glow and pulse with her magic in time with her movements.
Each time she impales herself on my cock brings me closer to the edge, her moans spurring me on. Losing the last vestiges of my control I grab her waist and hold her still as I thrust my hips up, going harder and faster, and harder still.
I’m fucking lost in her, in the feeling of her body wrapped around mine, the drugging scents of her sweat and arousal, the symphonic sounds of her consumed by pleasure filling the air. The pressure builds, a coil winding tighter and tighter in the base of my spine until I can’t hold it back any longer.
“Come for me, solnyshko,” I growl. “I need to feel you. Come for me now.”
She throws her head back and screams my name as it hits her, and the feel of her sex convulsing around me like a fist triggers my own release. With a final, powerful thrust, I spill into her as it crashes over me like a tsunami.
As Taryn’s body shakes with aftershocks, I slowly lift her up and down on my shaft, guiding her through the ebbing waves of ecstasy until she collapses on top of me, drained and utterly replete. We’re a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked skin, both of us struggling to catch our breath. I press a kiss to her temple then settle back with one of my arms folded under my head.
“If I had my way, this is how I would keep you,” I say in a low voice. “Sated and in my bed forever.”
“I’m too tired to think of a snarky feminist retort right now. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
Chuckling, I tip her chin up and press a kiss to her love-swollen lips. “Looking forward to it, solnyshko.”
Unable to help myself, I trail the fingers of my free hand along the edge of an ethereal wing. It’s petal soft, and I can feel the hum of magic, almost like touching an electric wire with really low voltage. She shivers in response. “Sorry, does that bother you?” I ask, realizing I should’ve gotten permission first.
She props her chin on top of her hands to meet my gaze. “Not at all,” she says with a shy smile. “It’s been so long since anyone’s touched them, I’d almost forgotten how nice it feels.”
Stroking over the edge again, I watch as her lids grow heavy with contentment, like a purring kitten. “They’re stunning, Taryn. Just like the rest of you.”
“Thank you, Finnian,” she whispers, a light blush tinting the apples of her cheeks.
Glancing down, she traces over the puckered scar on my chest. I know she’s curious about it—she’s seen it multiple times by now—but still doesn’t ask, so I offer the information.
“Edevane went after Bryn with an iron dagger,” I say solemnly, remembering that day. “He almost killed her and Caiden with a single blow.”
“Because of the blood curse,” she says, understanding. “If a king’s mate dies, so does he.”
“Yeah. Tiernan warmed up to Bryn right away, but I kept my distance. I hated that a stranger’s life was tied to my brother’s. Even when it was obvious they were starting to fall for each other, I didn’t fully trust her. She was patient with me and never forced the issue, though.
“I didn’t realize I’d started thinking of her as a sister until the moment I saw that blade going for her heart and knew I would lose them both. I’d never been more scared in my life.”
She tips her face up to look at me. “So you stepped in to save them, and then she saved you in return. That’s what you were talking about back at Abhaile when she was trying to heal my father.”
I nod. “I wouldn’t be here right now if she hadn’t tapped into her Darklight powers that night.”
“Neither of us would be here right now if she and the baby hadn’t found us in that cavern and blown us out of there,” she adds.
“Very true.” Wanting to lighten the mood, I say, “We should get her something to say thanks. Double points if it annoys Caiden. Let’s see, I don’t think he’s gotten her the cats he promised her yet.”
“If he made the promise, then he should be the one to deliver.”
“Excellent point. Oh, I know.” I laugh just thinking about the ridiculous idea. “You wouldn’t have any dragons around here, would you? She’s a huge GOT fan. Caiden would shit a brick.”
“Dragons? Not last I checked, but we’ll keep an eye out,” she says, laughing with me. “Now get up and get dressed or it’ll be an uncomfortable reunion when the others get back.”
Her wings turn back into streams of light that disappear into her back. I’m both awed at the display and disappointed they’re gone. Seeing it on my face, she offers a half-shrug. “I’ve kept them hidden for so long, I feel too exposed leaving them out. Even here.”
“I understand.” I tuck a curl behind her ear and press a kiss to her lips.
There’s a beat where I can tell we’re both considering starting things all over again, but the sound of an Ember Pixie bouncing off the shield brings our situation back into focus. Chuckling at the pissed off pixie, we reluctantly gather our discarded clothes and get dressed.
We settle back into our makeshift bed and stare up at the stars dotting the midnight purple sky while I trace lazy circles on her arm. It isn’t long before Taryn tucks her face into the spot she’s claimed between my shoulder and chin, and seconds later falls fast asleep.
This is how I want to end every day for the rest of my life, with this incredible female wrapped in my arms and in my bed. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I whisper, “Sweet dreams, moy tsarina.”
Most people would say it’s not possible to feel this strongly for someone I only just met. But my heart can’t comprehend time. It doesn’t know the difference between three days or three years. It only knows its very first beat after seeing Taryn Emory, and every beat since, has been for her.
Despite our invisible shield that should keep us safe from unwanted guests or tricks, I still won’t sleep until the guys make it back to camp. I’ll feel better knowing we have more muscle and more ears around Taryn. I know she can handle herself as well as any warrior, but I can’t help my innate protective streak that needs to keep her safe at all costs. I’m just not telling her that, because I like my balls where they are.
Hopefully they won’t be too much longer, and we can all get some sleep before our big day meeting with the fae queen who fucked my people over long before I was born. Should be good times.
Deciding I can still rely on my heightened sense of hearing to listen for anything suspicious, I allow myself to close my eyes and relax…
Taryn stands in the middle of a battlefield, wind whipping at her curls with streaks of ash on her face and neck. Her lavender eyes have brightened to a neon purple that spark with power. Jaw set in determination, her lips peeled back from clenched teeth, she throws her arms out wide and magic begins to crackle in the air around her.
She’s magnificent, a force of pure reckoning to all who threaten those she loves. Lifting her face to the sky, she screams in rage, preparing to deliver the ultimate retribution.
So she doesn’t see the golden Spear of Assal flying straight for her, the arrowhead slicing through everything in its path. Terror strikes me like a bolt of lightning. I run toward her, shouting her name so loud and so long my vocal cords bleed, but it’s no use. She can’t hear me above the fray.
The weapon strikes home, burying itself deep in her chest. Her hands instinctively grab at the protruding rod, a crimson river flowing from the wound. She looks over at me, a pained expression on her beautiful face, knowing I won’t make it to her in time. The violet light in her eyes flickers and dims just before they slide closed and she falls lifeless to the ground.
My eyes fly open with a jolt, my heart racing beneath Taryn’s warm palm on my chest. Willing my pulse to slow, I take deep breaths and tell myself it was only a nightmare. Except, it felt more like…a vision.
Fuck that, no way. I refuse to believe that was anything more than a bad dream brought on by fear of the unknown. Regardless, I’d rather not close my eyes again tonight. Sleeping is overrated, anyway. Reaching into the pack next to me, I take out Moira’s journal and begin to read under the glow of the Ember Pixies above.
Dearest Finnian,
I am leaving this treatise behind for you. Within its pages is my true accounting of the events leading up to our banishment and the ensuing bad blood between the Celestial Courts.
The truths as you were told have been woven with fabrics of omission and false perception. Read my words well, grandson, and you will see what was and was not, and how we came to arrive at the same place in a different era…
THIRTY-THREE
TARYN
Waking up in a field of flame lilies with the white sun peeking over the horizon and Finn’s arm draped over me is surreal. Dreaming about his eyes aside, I never saw this amazing male coming, nor did I ever expect to love anyone as fiercely as I do him. And as much as I trust my feelings for him, I can also admit that it’s fucking scary to be this vulnerable with someone.
Allowing my wings to unfurl with him was a huge step for me. Since leaving Faerie, the only person I’ve intentionally revealed them to is Dmitri, and even that was just the one time. It was too dangerous otherwise. But I know I’m safe with Finn, and I was ready for him to see all of me. It’s been ages since I felt this free to be who I truly am, and I owe it all to the giant prince curled around me.
My body feels sore in the best of ways, a lovely reminder of how we spent our time alone last night. Anxious to see him this morning, I roll over only to find he’s already awake. A quick glance shows the Woulfe brothers still sleeping and Dmitri’s bag already packed with him gone. I’m not surprised by that; vampires require very little sleep and he’s likely off hunting for his breakfast.
“Good morning,” I say in a low voice, brushing a fallen section of hair from his face.
“Good morning to you.” Finn’s mouth curves up in a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Frowning, I cup the outline of his jaw and study him. “You didn't sleep, did you?”
He lets out a soft chuff. “I look that bad, huh? No, my brain wouldn’t shut off.”
A pang of anxiety stabs me in the chest. I was afraid of this. I dropped my mask, confessed my sins, and now that he’s had time to process everything, it’s all too much.
Schooling my features to hide the tumultuous emotions raging inside, I nod with feigned acceptance. “You’re having second thoughts about me. It’s okay, I get it. Come on, we need to break camp.”
I try to pull away, but he holds me in place and pops up to brace himself on his forearm, looming over me. “I’m second guessing a lot of things—our plan, how much I know about my lineage, whether I’m qualified to lead this mission regardless of my grandmother’s visions—but I have never second-guessed you. You’re the only thing I’m completely certain of in all this.
“It’s okay if you’re not there yet, but I meant what I said in that cavern.” Framing my face with his hand, his thumb caresses my cheek as he stares intently into my eyes. “I love you, Taryn Delanie Emory.”
Tears blur my vision, but I blink them back before my vulnerability has the chance to spill over. If my heart was a well, it would be overflowing with love. I do feel the same way about him, so why can’t I say the words? Tell him you love him, too. Say it!
“About time you are awake, sestra,” Dmitri says, entering camp again. “I was beginning to think the young prince put you in post-coitus coma.”
Heat floods my face. “Dmitri.”
“I heard that!” Conall sits up, laughing so hard he’s holding his sides. “Dude, I’m totally calling you Prince of the Post-Coitus Coma from now on.”
Connor props himself up, joining in. “Prince P-Double-C,” he says, fist bumping his brother. “Wait till Tiernan hears. He’s liable to make it official by court decree.”
“Glad the coma wasn’t too serious, Taryn,” Conall says. “Want some coffee to help shake it off?”
Finn swipes a hand over the lower half of his face, trying to hide his amusement, but the twinkling in his honey eyes gives him away.
“Go ahead and laugh,” I say playfully to him. “I’m not the one with the ridiculous new nickname.” Then I answer Conall while smirking at Finn. “No coffee necessary. The effects are already long gone.”
The twins bust out laughing as Finn flops back on the ground, putting a hand to his chest as though I’ve just stabbed him. Dmitri sits on a nearby boulder grinning at my verbal volley.
It feels good to joke around and be part of a close-knit group again. The Romanov clan has been my family for all intents and purposes, but the dynamic is more like that of a business with Dmitri and I as ruthless co-CEOs. No one would dare tease me there.
But the dynamic between the Verrans, their mates, and the Woulfe twins is like a real family, even with the twins in roles as their employees and subjects. I never realized how lonely I was before until now, trading banter and joking around with a Dark Prince and his wolf shifter friends like I belong.
“What’s that?” I ask, noticing a small, leather-bound book on Finn’s pack. My eyes widen when I recognize the seal on the cover. “Is this Moira’s?”
He gets up and starts rolling up our sleeping bags. “Yeah, it’s her journal. Connor found it back at Abhaile in the base of the decoy case. He gave it to me last night, and I stayed up reading it after you fell asleep.”
I expect one of the guys to make another coma joke, but the tone of the group has changed to one of mutual curiosity at the mention of the journal.
Considering how secretive I’ve lived most of my life, I always hesitate to question people about things that might be too personal. Dmitri, however, has no such compunction.
“What did you learn? Useful things on how to beat Edevane, I hope.”
Finn regards the rest of us, disappointment etched on his face. “Unfortunately, no. It was just her account of what really happened before our exile. She described her vision of the Light King using Lugh’s spear to kill the One True Queen and usurp the throne, throwing Faerie into a time of chaos and destruction between the courts. The only way she could gain access into the Light Palace to steal the spear was by gaining Cormac’s favor, making him believe she wanted an affair.”
