Page 48 of The Curse of the Goddess

“Wait! I—”

“Or you could sleep right next to me.” Valda spewed lust with no shame whatsoever, and Maris drank from it. “Share my bed. If you do, you will be protected at all costs. No one will lay a hand on you. I must…” The princess shuddered as she moved her hand from Maris’s waist up to her exposed breast, leaving goosebumps in her wake. “I must have you close. I need you close,“ Valda muttered, lowering her large frame over Maris’s. “I know you want me close too,” Valda whispered, trailing her lips over the curve of Maris’s ear. “I can smell how wet you are for me.”

It was the first time Maris had heard the princess be so vulgar and she loved the fact that it was because of her.

“Say yes, and I swear you will be taken care of.” Valda’s hands trailed over Maris’s shoulder and down her arm. She clutched her hand and pressed it to her chest, over her heart. Her white eyes drifting shut. “I will not allow anyone put a hand on you.” Her voice lowered.

Maris frowned as realization dawned on her.Her eyes shot from Valda’s face to the hand pressed to the princess’ chest.

Was Valda asking her to be her heart mate or mistress?

The fact that Valda wanted to fuck Maris right there and there didn’t bother her. What bothered her was that she was seconds away from agreeing to it. She shook her head to dissipate the fogginess of her arousal. The same arousal pooling between her legs. She was bombarded with images of having the ruler of the Sky Kingdom, almost a goddess, between her legs, holding Maris’s hips down with her callused hands while Maris grabbed on to her short, dark hair to keep her steady and guide her mouth until she saw stars. She had wanted Valda since the first day she laid eyes on her, but Maris was petrified that her want went above physical desire.

Maris shuddered and looked at Valda. She wore a sleeveless black shirt, showing off the strength in her shoulders and arms. Her legs were covered with loose, navy-blue pants that thinned at her ankles. Even though the princess was more covered up than Maris, her desire did not placate. Maris touched the taut muscle on Valda’s forearm and pulled away, enough to give herself some space to breathe anything but Valda’s scent. The smell of clean linen and cinnamon was imprinted on Valda’s skin, making her deliciously irresistible. She sighed, cupped Valda’s face, and pushed her away.

“No.” The word tasted like poison on Maris’s tongue. “Princess, you are drunk. You smell like alcohol.”

Valda leaned on her knees and the ball of her foot, eyes open, searching for Maris within her darkness. Her teeth were bare, feral, and raw. Maris stared. Anyone would be afraid to face Valda like this, but Maris took in every small detail. The scars on her arms, her messy hair, her moist, parted lips, the lost look on her face. With how Valda’s eyes moved, Maris knew that she wanted to do exactly the same thing. It was confirmed when the princess whimpered longingly.

“I want to see you,” Valda whispered, her hand once again moving, searching to touch Maris. “If I could see you, then I would know if you were my mate.” Her desperation was evident. It was the first time she verbalized her need to see again.

“Princess,” Maris began, moistening her lips, wanting to press them over Valda’s skin to taste her. But not now. Now she needed to get Valda out of her chamber and back to her own. “Please. There is someone else in the room with us,” Maris said, holding Valda’s forearm and pulling her up to stand. “Please. You should rest. Come, I will take you to your room.”

“You don’t want to be my heart mate?” Valda winced. “I—”

“I don’t desire a mate,” Maris replied, her truth just beneath the surface. The concept of a soulmate was often portrayed as the epitome of love and connection yet it had a shadow Maris couldn’t ignore. Witnessing her mother lose her soulmate revealed the darker side of such bonds. Maris wasn’t sure she could endure the loss of her soulmate.

A heart mate was different, where choice and affection prevailed over predetermined souls. Yet even this choice came with its own brand of pain. If she committed to being Valda’s heart mate, what if Valda’s soulmate appeared later? What if Maris’s soulmate appeared?

Squeezing her jaw, Maris shook the idea of Valda being with someone else. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine the other woman in someone else’s arms.

“Let’s get you to your room, Your Highness.”

Valda jerked her arm away violently, her frustration evident, as well as her state of arousal. “I know the way. I managed to get here by myself, didn’t I?”

“Of course,” Maris muttered and watched the towering woman leave, closing the door behind her.

Maris let out the breath and shuddered before closing her robe tightly. She touched her neck, jaw, and ear. Her skin reacted, goosebumps trailing over her. She closed her eyes tightly before turning around and slipping under the covers of her small bed. She took one last glance at Melvian, whose covers seemed to hide her up to her shoulders. She was rather thankful that she wasn’t a witness to that. Now all that was left was to try and get to sleep.

9

After a restless night, Maris woke with a gasp. Melvian had already left, her bed neatly made with Maris’s clothes folded to perfection. Looking out the window, she knew she was already late. She hoped the princess wouldn’t blame her.

She managed to get ready in time before running out of the servant’s quarters. It wasn’t bad enough that she had woken up almost freezing in the middle of the night, but she had experienced the closest thing to intimacy she had ever had with the ruler. She could still feel Valda’s fingers on her neck, her breath on her ear, her scent.

After Valda left, Maris couldn’t regain her composure enough to fall asleep right away. Instead, she was kept awake by arousal trickling down her thigh every time the image of Valda came to mind. There was no doubt that the gods sculpted Valda’s body, but something about her presence made Maris melt with need. She tried to stop herself from finding some release, knowing that Melvian might wake up if she got too loud, but as the minutes ticked by, she had no choice but to quietly ease her frustration with her hand.

She imagined Valda slipping under the covers behind her and aggressively placing her large hand over her mouth with the same strength and violence as before. The woman’s other hand then would slip to the junction of Maris’s legs to tease her to the point of delirium. Alas, it wasn’t Valda’s hand keeping her quiet or spreading the wetness, but her own.

After finding her release, she still couldn’t sleep… All her dreams ended with the princess, between her legs, eyes open, honey-colored eyes staring at her with her tongue deep inside Maris’s wetness. Each time, Maris awoke during the night, covered in sweat.

And now Maris was late. She had overslept, and she ran down the castle hall, hoping and praying that Valda had somehow dealt with her emotions enough to not jump at her throat when she walked in.

Today was the queen’s burial, and she knew that Valda needed all the emotional support she could get. Maris was somewhat lucky that Kayden was around for that. Maris wondered if she was even allowed to attend the burial.

Maris sighed, fixed her hair into a high ponytail, and took a deep breath before opening the door.

She found Valda sitting on the edge of her bed, a random maid tying her boots. A burning rage of jealousy set her blood on fire when she saw the young girl touching Valda.

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