Page 90 of Of Song and Scepter
“You’re so tight, Wicked. So tight and wet.”
She moans, twisting into me so that our tails slide, nudging my cock deeper. Her eyes roll. “Goddess, I thought you were huge before,” she whispers. Her walls flutter around me, flexing to accommodate my size.
“There is no goddess here,” I growl. “Only you, my love, and I intend to worship you.”
She whimpers at my words. I kick my tail and rock into her, slow and firm, gradually building my momentum. Her tail wraps around mine, her hands tighten in my hair, and she clutches me as I rock her world.
I take my time worshipping her body. My hands roam her soft skin, tracing the circumference of each scale. I take inventory of every part of her, from the velvety tips of her nipples, the soft underside of her breasts, to the joint of her hip, with a soft, puckered scar where her wound had been. My thumb passes over the spot, and she shivers, tightening her grip on me. I drive into her again and again, until her walls grow unbearably tight. Pleasure builds deep in my belly with every thrust. Then, with a gasp, she clamps down hard. She bursts with a rush of heat, and she writhes against me, milking my own pleasure from me. We come together in waves, steadily crashing against each other until we slow and settle to the bottom of the pool, two limp bodies in a warm sea.
I hook my thumb under her chin and tilt her face. Her eyes are wide and searching, blissed-out. I hum at seeing her so bright, so alive. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life being devoured by you. Slowly, one scale at a time. My heart is yours.”
The words flood me with a thrill of pleasure. I stare at her, memorizing every inch of her face. She has sunk her little teeth into me, body and soul, and I never want her to loosen her hold.
And tonight, I will make her my queen.
Chapter fifty-seven
Enna
I tell him everything.I lay my soul, my past, my sins bare. Every bloody detail. And still, he wraps me in a warm towel and holds me close, unafraid of the monster lurking within me. He wraps his arm around my waist, tucking me into his side, and we sit on his balcony to watch the sunset. I’ll never deserve him, this kind, cocky prince.
The city below rustles with evening activity. Merfolk strolls the beach. Vendors pack up their booths. Birds chirp from their perches among the abodes, singing one last tribute to the sun.
We sit on a blanket, complete with a dinner spread from the kitchen. The baskets of fruit and bread and plates of fish tempt me with their warm aroma, but my stomach twists in revulsion. Beyond the railing, the faint outline of Audrina’s face peeks over the horizon, preparing to ascend.
“Front-row seat,” Soren says, nodding to the full moon. He picks up a roll of bread and picks it apart with his fingers.
I tuck my towel tighter around me and hug my knees. Ever since we finished our bath, I’ve had a sinking feeling in my stomach. The feeling that I’ve forgotten something, somehow. The breeze lifts the leaves on the twisting vine that climbs the palace wall, and I flinch.
Soren pauses, holding a half-eaten roll. “Something out there?”
I squint at the vine, searching for any unusual movement among the twitching green leaves. A stray petal drops from one of the pink blooms. “Nothing,” I say. “Just a funny feeling.”
He pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my hair. “She can’t hurt you anymore, Enna. She’s in the dungeon where she’ll rot until high tide, like you said.”
I pick a roll and separate the dough. The bread is buttery and warm on my tongue. I chew it slowly, letting the flavor wash through my mouth. “I want to see her die.”
“Of course you do, Wicked.” Soren chuckles, running a hand through his long, damp hair. “Tell you what. After dinner, we can visit her, and you can taunt her all you like until the goddess shows up.”
I smile into my bread. “I’d like that.” Earlier today, when I saw her alone, I went soft. I let her get into my head. With Soren at my side, I will be stronger. With my words, I will make her writhe.
“On one condition,” Soren adds. “I have something to show you. A detour on our way to watch the shit show.”
“It better be good.”
I eye him sideways, and a goofy grin plasters his face. “Oh, it will be dazzling.”
Whatever that means. We finish off the bread, half the lushfruit, and two whole sweetfish as the sun retreats into darkness.
With our bellies full and hearts warm, we start down the hallway. Soren reaches for my hand, and I thread my fingers through the gaps in his. Our palms brush, and he squeezes my hand. “A perfect fit,” he says.
We descend the stairs. Captain Nara rushes around the bend. Her maroon eyes are focused, her mouth set in a hard line. We skirt sideways to avoid a collision, and the mermaid stops short, grasping Soren’s arm.
“Your Highness!”
Soren steadies her with a hand to her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Nara shakes her head. “There’s been an accident. She’s dead. One of my soldiers found her in a pool of blood. Not ten minutes ago.”
