Page 34 of Essence of the Throne

My head falls to his shoulder, and he curses under his breath as he feels my body sink into his—submitting to him. It’s as if he cannot hold back any longer, shoving his hand the remaining distance to my slick heat. We both groan at the same time.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” I do not have a moment to respond before he slips from my pants and uses his grip on my throat to twist and shove me back into a tree. A small sound of surprise escapes me, and he smirks before reaching under my clothing once more, circling the arousal that has been infuriating me since we left the castle.

His lips run down my jaw as he releases my throat and continues on, kissing the exposed skin. He pauses at the same spot his teeth almost sank into the last time, and a small whimper falls from my lips.

“Don’t worry,” he says as his mouth finds mine for a brief moment. “I’ll take care of you.” I gasp when he pushes three fingers into me. The burn from his stretching is utterly exquisite, and I’m so on edge that my shaking hands snap to his wrist.

“It’s too much…oh, shit,” I groan into his mouth when his fingers curl and press against something delicious. He grabs my leg and pulls it over his hip, giving him far more access to my sensitive flesh.

“It’s okay, angel, you can take it,” he mumbles against my lips before kissing me so passionately my head spins.

I can’t think. The world blurs, caught in this suffocating haze of lust and desperation. He drives me fucking mad, each thrust of his fingers igniting boundless sensation that claws at the edges of my sanity. The tree’s rough bark digs into my back, grounding me while he devours every gasp and moan spilling from my lips like secrets shared in the quiet of the night.

“Caspian…” His name is a prayer, a curse—my plea for release, and my call for restraint. I want to push him away and pull him impossibly closer. Shove him to the farthest corners of my mind where no one has ever dared to tread, but he won’t allow it. He radiates warmth, and I find myself caught in this cruel paradox. His touch should be unbearable, yet here in the midst of this forest, it feels like salvation.

“Fuck, Ariella, you’re gripping me so good,” he breathes against my mouth, the tension building far higher than I can comprehend. I mean to sayI’m so close, but the words don’t make it past a fleeting thought as he presses his palm against my clit and I shatter. “That’s it. Take your pleasure, angel.” I think my hand rips some of his hair out as I grip his head—though if it bothers him, he does everything but show it.

The waves of pleasure last for so long my vision blurs. Caspian continues to undulate his fingers even when I plead that it’s too sensitive, insistent on wringing out every bit of this orgasm he can.

I’m pissed that he’s so good at this.

But I’m also pleased that no one other than me will experience him in this way again.

His nose grazes mine as his hand slips from between us. The prince holds up his fingers, drowned in my arousal, up where we both can see, spreading them wide before his ravenous eyes hold me hostage. “I couldliveoff the little noises you make right before you come, and the sweet fucking taste of your pleasure on my tongue.”

My jaw slackens as his index finger dips into his mouth. He leisurely pulls it out, sucking me from his skin and not once breaking our stare. I’ve never been so fucking turned on in my life.

I’m also particularly happy I decided to wash in a small lake earlier, despite that I just about met the Angel from freezing to death.

Something feral glimmers in his eyes. “Open,” he demands, his tone stern.Fuck me, I cannot handle this side of him…because I’d obey his every command. Just as I do now, spreading my lips until a satisfied hum sounds from his chest. He shoves the next two fingers into my mouth and presses down on the back of my tongue, forcing me to hold in a gag. “Now clean up your mess.”

Chapter Eleven

Ariella

Ichoke on his fingers, desperation mingling with the sharp thrill of surrender. The taste of myself floods my senses, overwhelming and intoxicating. My instincts urge me to rebel, to claw my way back to the world of blades and blood—the world I’m familiar with—rather than suffocate in this mess of desire and inevitability. But beneath that instinct lies a hidden hunger I can’t deny—not from him, not from the warmth that seeps through my skin.

I swirl my tongue around his fingers and pull away just enough to gasp for air, eyes burning with defiance I don’t feel. He smirks. Cocky bastard. “You think you own me now? Just because you made me—”

“Made you?” he interrupts, his voice low and dangerous. “Ariella, we both know I could never make you do anything you didn’t want. But that’s the thing…you’re mine, and you fucking love that truth more than you hate it.”

His confidence cuts deeper than any wound ever inflicted on me, and it sends a shiver down my spine—something I will think about later.

Caspian presses a light kiss against my cheek before lifting my shirt off and moving to remove the rest of my clothes. I let him. I study the purposeful movements, completely stunned and fascinated.

His feet step back as calculating eyes peruse my naked flesh. He tugs his shirt up and tosses it to the side, wasting no time as he moves to grab my thighs and lift until I’m wrapped around him. He walks a path I cannot see, and for once, I do not feel the desperate need to know where I’m going. His mouth finds my breast and I gasp, arching up in offering. I chew on my lip and drop my head back, lost in every sensation the prince is wrenching from my body.

There is something so relieving about surrendering to my baser desires. Not caring about anything other than the man worshiping me and the euphoria we bring each other.

I jolt as my back is shoved against another tree, this one full of bark so rough I’m certain there is blood seeping down my heated skin. Caspian releases my breast with a pop and straightens, a wicked smile plastered across his face.

“Figured you needed some pain with your pleasure this time,” he drawls, reaching between us to undo the buttons on his pants.

“And what are you implying, exactly?”

He chuckles, pulling his cock free. “That your attitude the last few days has rivaled that of a griffin, and I need a little help to fuck it out of you.” The smooth head of his dick slides over my center, provoking a groan from me. “You are a work of art, angel.” I’venot a moment to respond before he sheathes himself inside me with one rough thrust.

The realm fractures at the edges as he fills me, a jolt of raw energy surging through my veins. I cling to him, nails biting into his shoulder as the sensation tears a sound from my throat that teases the line between pleasure and pain—exactly as he’d promised. Each thrust ignites a wildfire within, spreading heat into every corner of my very essence. My body wants to arch against him, to match his movements with my own, yet every motion feels like an act of defiance.

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