by Mila Young
“I love you looking this way.” His cock pushes into my entrance, and in a heartbeat, he plunges deep.
I scream from the sudden explosion of pleasure.
“Fuck!” he snarls. “You feel so good.” He hammers into me, the slapping sounds a gorgeous song of our love. His hands grasp my ass cheeks, kneading them, spreading them, then he curls a hand around my waist, finding my clit.
“I want to feel you coming with me buried in you.”
Groaning, I fist the bedsheets as he spears me over and over. I slide toward the edge fast, my orgasm building with each passing moment, mounting as Luther takes me.
His finger strokes me to the point where I peak so fast that my climax comes at me suddenly. Tearing through me, my body convulses, and I cry out as I fall with the pleasure, my arms giving out as I collapse forward, my ass still high and Luther fucking me faster.
I scream out, orgasming long and ferociously, my whole body clenching.
Luther snarls like a beast, stiffening as he explodes inside me. “Squeeze me, that’s it.”
We both float on the clouds, attached and shuddering with the desire binding us. I no longer know where I begin and he ends. My heart thumps harder.
When we both come down from the most incredible orgasm, he slides out of me and we collapse on the bed. He draws me toward him, and I roll into his arms, both of us sweating and gasping for breath.
He kisses my brow. “Are you ready for more?” he asks eagerly, and I’m not sure if he’s serious, considering we’re still both puffing.
“Absolutely,” I respond regardless, and he shuffles out of bed.
It seems he was one hundred percent serious, and I’m blown away by his stamina.
“Spread yourself for me,” he demands. “I’m going to clean you up first.”
I roll onto my back and obey him, adoring the way he commands me in the bedroom. There’s nothing more thrilling than a delicious man dominating you when it comes to sex.
He stands before me, his gaze dipping to the apex between my legs. A tingle of desire curls deep in my stomach, even though I’ve just climaxed.
“Don’t move,” he tells me. “We’re not even close to being done.”
My breath catches in my throat—I’m ready to go all night.
Chapter 10
Guendolyn
A coldness wraps around me, and I open my eyes to the sun beaming into the cabin through the gaps in the curtains. It takes mere seconds for my memories to return, and I lift my hand to stare at the ring on my finger. I still can’t believe this is real. What we experienced was pure magic, and I want more.
I'm engaged to a prince. A fae prince, precisely, and butterflies whirl around in my stomach, twisting me into an anxious mess. While hundreds of questions and concerns pelt into me about how it all went down, I shove them away. Not today, bad thoughts. I've ridden a terrible storm for too long, so give me this moment of joy. Everything else we can work out later.
I mean, never in a million years did I ever think I’d find a prince, let alone marry one. So this is utterly surprising. It’s the things fairy tales are made of and the best thing to have happened to me.
Rolling over onto my side, I reach out for Luther, except my hand falls through the air and lands on his empty side of the bed. I sit up and scan the cottage.
“Luther?” I call out in case he's in the bathroom, but when no response comes, I wrap the bedsheet around my naked body and pad across the cold wooden floor. The fire has burned out, so the air is crisp and cold.
When I knock on the bathroom door and there's no response, I open it.
He’s not in there. Suddenly, his absence makes the cottage feel lonely and sad.
I frown and march over to the window. As I draw back the curtain, I see a guard standing outside with his back to me. The storm has passed… has Luther returned to the castle without me?
Why’s there a guard outside? First, I need clothes. Quickly, I rush to get dressed, then I pat down my wild hair and open the front door.
Michae stands tall and greets me with a smile. “Morning, my lady.”
“Where’s Luther?” I groan.
“Prince Luther was called to an urgent matter with his brother at dawn. I am here to escort you back to court.”
I glance back at our love shack, a place I will never forget as the place where Luther proposed. Sure, it was the strangest proposal, but it’ll always stay with me.
“Are you ready to leave?” Michae asks.
I step outside and draw the door shut behind me. “Should I clean up the room, perhaps, before we leave?”
He smiles so genuinely at me, that I wonder if he must think me strange to ask such questions. “Maids will be arriving soon to clean everything. You don't have to worry.”
I track behind him to a horse carriage waiting farther down the snowy path, reminding myself that having others clean up after me is something I will need to get used to. I’m pretty sure the guilt will vanish soon enough.
We ride under a stunning azure sky, no trace of the savage storm that roared all night. As did my prince. The thought brings an electric buzz racing up my spine. That fae has insane stamina. We went all night and only fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.
Once back at the castle, I head down to the baths for a wash, after which I dress in a brand-new, simple straight gown the color of my ruby. This time I include underwear that look more like white shorts.
Once I spot Michae go down the hall for a break from watching my door, I sneak out, hurrying down the corridor of the mansion. I have to speak to Deimos, but I can’t have Michae following me and hearing my conversation with him.
I keep admiring my ring, at the way the dragon tears, as Luther called them, sparkle in the light. Part of me feels guilty that Deimos wasn't with us, that he may not agree to Luther having done this on his own. The last thing I want is to create any tension between the brothers, so I need to talk to him urgently. I think of what Ahren’s reaction would be, but I don’t even know what to make of that situation.
As I approach his room, a maid walks out carrying a bundle of bedclothes and dumps it on the wheeled trolley in the hallway.
On my approach, she lifts her gaze. “Miss.” She gives me a small bow.
“Is Deimos here?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “He went up on the roof.”
I frown. “How do I get there?”
She wipes her hands down her white apron, then glances over her shoulder down the corridor as if she’s expecting someone to reprimand her for her talking to me. “Quickly, I will show you.”
“Thank you.” I take quick steps to keep up with her as she races down several hallways, then pushes open a door to a set of stairs.
“Go all the way to the top.”
The stone walls of the circular enclosure are a dark gray, with narrow slits for windows. My skin pricks with the cold in here.
“Um, what is on the roof, exactly?” I turn back only to discover she’s already marching back to the prince's room. If Deimos is up there, likely so is Luther, and even Ahren. As much as my stomach protests at seeing them all together, maybe it's not a bad idea to get everything in the open. To speak the truth about my engagement, about what is up Ahren's ass lately, and for me to tell them the truth of who my father was.
No more secrets. Tightness coils in my chest about such a conversation, but if I intend to marry the princes and join their family, we need to come clean on everything.
I want us to start fresh.
Taking a deep breath, I step forward and make my way upstairs. It’s quiet—there’s no one else in here. It's only when I look out a window do I see how far up I am. I must be in a tower at the corner of the mansion.
Losing track of how many turns I’ve taken, I finally reach the top, my thighs smarting. Gasping for air, I pause for a moment to catch my breath so I won’t appear flustered.
One last look at my ring, and I push the wooden door open. I can d
o this.
Bright daylight greets me, along with a faint breeze. I step out of the stairwell and onto an outdoor terrace. The mansion sits like a U-shape around the open balcony, which is enclosed by a stone railing. A table and several chairs sit in one corner, filled with platters of food and what appear to be paper scrolls. And there's only one lone figure up here.
Ahren stands at the other end of the balcony, hands on the railing, head low and staring at the kingdom grounds below.
Suddenly, I'm doubting my decision to be here.
“Lingering in the doorway is asking for trouble,” Ahren states without looking my way, his voice deep and velvety. Just hearing him brings to the surface so many emotions—the pain of his rejection and secrets, how much I miss him.
I guess that is the best invitation I’ll get from him, so I shut the door behind me and go to tuck my hands into pockets, except my dress has none. I’ve been keeping my ruby on the underside of my laced-up corset where there are layers of fabric. It’s amazing what perfect little pockets they make.
Fidgeting, I chew on my lower lip and saunter toward him while my stomach does somersaults.
“How much trouble are we talking about, exactly?” I murmur upon approaching him.
“The kind that seems to follow you around.” There's a tenderness in his voice; the words aren't bitter or aggressive. They belong to the fae who made me fall for him.
Maybe this is my chance to finally speak to him, to find out what's going on. I move to stand alongside him and stare out over the town sprawled over the rising landscape. The cottages shine black beneath the morning sun with trims of varied colors around the roofs and windows. In the valley lies a river that seems to divide the town in two, and I try hard to imagine what it would have been like growing up here. But in all honesty, I can't even fathom that lifestyle.
My chance to grow up amid my kind was taken from me by an evil woman in Ash Court, and one day I'll find out why.
“Deimos and Luther should be back later today,” Ahren explains without looking my way.
“Where are they?”
“On an errand outside the castle walls to escort visitors past the Bloodcursed.”
My stomach clenches at the sound of them facing danger. “Why did they go out there instead of soldiers?” I sound protective of them, and dammit, I am.
“Our mother insisted they be the ones to meet with our father first.”
I almost choke on my breath. “Your dad, the asshole who left your mother for another woman?” Not to mention the bastard who beat Ahren senseless growing up, ripped his wings until there was only bone left, and left the scars on his back that will be imprinted on my mind for eternity. “Why would you welcome him to your court?”
“It's not mine yet, and Mother accepted him for the sake of kingdom alliances. We must all stand together against the Unseelie.” This time, the bitterness surges through his voice.
“It’s still wrong,” I answer.
He glances over to me, the corner on one side of his mouth curling upward, those pale green eyes smiling while the wind catches his long white hair and pushes it off his face.
I lose myself in those few moments in his presence. He's spectacular. Handsome. Rugged. Dominant. Scary. And someone that makes my heart thud in my chest with need.
As much as my hands tingle to reach over to him, I fear I'd be pushing my luck, so I turn back to the view, my hands gripping the cold stone railing instead.
“I admire that you always speak your mind. That's one of the things that I hate about my role. Being unable to do so.”
When I glance over to him, I notice him looking down at my hand, at the ring Luther gave me. Luther said it was his grandmother's, so Ahren would know exactly what it means.
A paralyzing dread crashes through me. It shouldn't, but I see how quickly Ahren’s demeanor stiffens, jealousy curling behind his narrowing eyes. His breaths quicken, and I lower my hand by my side, feeling like somehow I've cheated on him.
“Ahren, it's not—”
“I'm happy for you. This is exactly what I wanted for you.” His words are sour and dark.
I cringe on the inside.
His shoulders bunch up, and the corded muscles in his neck flex.
“You're happy that your brother asked me to be his betrothed?” I hate asking that question, but I refuse to believe he’s happy.
“Of course.” His voice deepens, yet he refuses to look at me.
My knees weaken. “And it doesn't bother you in the slightest?”
"Should it?" He shrugs.
I study his face, searching for the expression that tells me he's lying, but he's a blank page, so good at hiding his feelings. I’m dying on the inside. I'm no fool; I can tell he’s pretending, but it still damn hurts to hear those words from him.
He doesn't even give me a chance to respond before he turns and storms away from me.
What the hell?
I'm moving before I make the decision and grab his hand, forcing him to stop and look at me. There's a buzz that zips up my arm from our touch, and he flinches too, feeling the connection.
“Can you just talk to me, please,” I plead.
He pauses and twists toward me, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want from me? To say that it rips me apart to see Luther's ring on your finger? That I want to shove my fist through a wall over and over until I feel nothing but excruciating pain?”
My head spins, and I tighten my hold of his hand. “Then why are you pushing me away?”
He lowers his gaze. “I need to leave. I’m not doing this.”
“No,” I challenge him, stiffening. “Just fucking talk to me.” I'll lose my shit before I let him walk away.
He groans, making a sudden, painful sound as his back unexpectedly twitches while he rolls his shoulders.
“Are you hurt?” I scan his back, which is silly, as he's wearing a black tunic and I can't see through it.
“It's nothing. Look Guendolyn, I'm sorry if you think we had something, but we can’t have a future together.” His voice is so monotone and robotic, as though he's been practicing this line.
My fingers curl around his when he flinches once more, his face scrunching up as if he’s drowning in agony.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It's stress. I hold it in my shoulders. It's nothing.”
My insides are sizzling with confusion, and I don't know what to say or do. Ahren is in obvious pain. Sure, he has too much going on, and it's getting to him. But is that all it is?
“You expect me to sit back and watch you fall apart? Let’s go sit down and I'll rub your shoulders. It always helps me.”
He tugs his hand free from mine, his face morphing into one of frustration and anger. “How much clearer can I be?” he barks. “I assumed you would have found out by now about me from one of the castle staff.”
My back flinches as I straighten. “Find out what? The reason you supposedly want to move on?”
He's heaving, the struggle obvious in his eyes and the way his shoulders hunch, his body curving forward.
“Just tell me. Whatever it is, I'll understand,” I persist.
He looks away, darkness swallowing his expression.
I should be mad at him.
Should be furious and storm away.
But I can't get my legs to move when the desperation to uncover the truth pummels through me. I need to know what is going on with him.
“Tomorrow…” he begins, but instead of continuing, he groans and drops to his knees, his back suddenly arching.
My stomach curls in on itself. “Ahren.” I reach for him as he slumps forward on bent legs like he might be sick, and in a heartbeat, the sound of fabric tearing has me startling upright. He hisses through his teeth.
Only when I step back do I notice the shirt on his back is shredded and his wings are pushing out for release.
Like last time I saw them, they are mainly bone. And they’re stretching outward on either side
of him for escape, wrapping around him. My heart cleaves in half to see them this way, to know his monster of a father ripped the flesh off his wings—and yet, he's being welcomed into the kingdom.
I want to scream at the injustice and destroy the sonofabitch for doing this to his son.
Reaching over, I tenderly touch a wing.
He flinches from my touch. “I told you before, I'm broken,” he snarls. “How the fuck am I meant to rule a kingdom when I can't even control my own body?”
His voice cracks, and my heart squeezes as though a hand has it in a death grip. All I want is to take away his pain.
That's when I realize that I don't completely have control of my body either, because I’m still by his side after he’s repeatedly tried to push me away. But maybe my mind knows something I don't... there is something much deeper going on with Ahren.
My hand traces over the length of the bone in his wing, and I close my eyes, imagining the energy in my body going into his, healing him.
There's no guarantee this will work, but I can't sit back and watch him fall apart. It kills me to see him so broken.
Heat radiates from my chest, right where the ruby sits, so I turn my focus to that. My skin pricks in an instant as power flares over me, lifting every hair on my body.
Ahren roars. “What are you doing to me?”
I flip open my eyes as he rips away from me and climbs to his feet, skeletal wings jutting outward. The shadow of his wings looms over me, making him appear so much larger than usual. It reminds me just how small I am in comparison.
He stumbles about when the first spark of electricity snaps across the bones of his wings. It flares like lightning, dancing across his back.
I hate hearing the agony in his voice, and I don’t know what to do. Have I made a mistake by using my stone to heal him? What have I done?
At his side, I wrack my brain on how to fix this, how to eliminate his pain, but I come up empty. None of this is normal.
He roars, his back arching, white sparks popping across his back.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, placing my hands on him, but he pushes me away and I stumble.