Page 66 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
She reached for him, desperate to learn the feel of him in her hand before guiding him into her body.
Warm fingers closed around her wrist, stopping her. ‘That was about you,’ he said, his voice hoarse, his breathing uneven.
‘I want to feel you, all of you, inside me,’ Drue told him, not taking her eyes off that impressive length straining beneath the fabric, an ache already building back up within her.
‘Not yet, Wildfire.’ He brought her face to his and kissed her deeply. ‘Not yet.’
Talemir retrieved a blanket from his pack and wrapped it gently around her before scooping her up in his strong arms, carrying her over to one of the corner booths. Her eyes were suddenly heavy.
There, he cradled her to him as he eased himself onto the old cushions and made room for her to lie down, her head resting in his lap.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked, his deep voice rumbling against her, sending a thrill through her bones even now.
‘I’m more than alright.’ She felt more relaxed than she ever had, weightless from the mind-altering experience of him.
‘Good,’ he murmured, stroking her hair gently.
Part of her wanted to argue, wanted to straddle him then and there and have her way with him, to wring the pleasure from him as he had from her, to hear his cries of passion and behisundoing.
But the soft, rhythmic caress of his hand through her locks had her sighing with a different form of contentment.
And that little voice of reason only whispered once:
How can this man be a monster?
14
Talemir
For as long as the Furies bade him live, Talemir Starling would forever remember the taste of her. Until his dying breath he would recall the sounds she made when she climaxed and the way her mouth had parted in a cry of ecstasy.
She was fierce and beautiful.
She was everything.
The meddling ranger he’d been ordered to slay.
The Naarvian woman who’d clawed her way out from the darkness of a fallen kingdom.
The flicker of wildfire in the deep night.
And now, she slept soundly in his lap, nestled against him with all the trust in the realms, despite what he was, despite what she’d seen him become.
How did this happen?Talemir ran his thumb over his lips, the memory of her mouth on his etched into his mind, strong enough to last a thousand lifetimes. No matter what came to pass between them now, he was tethered to her, and her mark upon him would remain.
Carefully, he slipped out from underneath her, tucking the blanket firmly around her and covering up her bare leg. He knew she hadn’t slept well on the road, full of worry for her friend Gus and plagued by nightmares when the sun went down. For a moment he just watched her, noting the way her eyelashes brushed the tops of her flushed cheeks and how she curled up into herself. He could stare at her for hours, he realised. But that was not why he’d peeled himself away from her. No. It was about time someone looked after Drue, and he was more than happy to pick up the mantle.
As his Wildfire slept, Talemir collected her discarded clothes and stripped off his own. Wearing just his last clean pair of undershorts, he explored the rest of the tavern. He drew water from a well out the back and found a tub and a washboard. There, he scrubbed their filthy clothes with soap until the water turned grey. Deeming it safe enough to start a fire in the long-cold hearth, he did so, coaxing the flames to life over the kindling he gathered before hanging their clothes over an array of chairs to dry. The Dancing Badger’s food stores had been raided, but it mattered not. Talemir took up his bow and quiver and went hunting.
He knew he must look ridiculous in his boots and undershorts, his arrows strapped to his bare back like some sort of caveman, but there was no one to see him and twilight was the best time to hunt game. The grasslands around the stream were littered with hares and it took him no time at all to shoot a few through the eye. For a brief moment he wished Wilder was there to tease, his young protégé always a touch too impatient with archery. But he would learn in time. Talemir scanned the skies for Terrence, before remembering the hawk was on his way to Ciraun to bring them aid against the raiders. Time had passed so strangely these past few weeks. In the blink of an eye, Talemir had found himself on a ship to Naarva, at the pointy end of a ranger’s blade, and now… now he was somewhere else entirely.
He trudged back to The Dancing Badger, realising how much he’d needed the fresh dusk air to settle the raging fire within. The fire that Drue Emmerson had ignited in him and fanned into a blazing inferno ever since. He entered the tavern quietly, careful not to wake her. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face her yet; he didn’t trust himself to meet her gaze and not spill forth every emotion that roiled in him now.
Talemir Starling had never been a common man. He had been a legendary Warsword of Thezmarr, and then a shadow monster living a half-life, but now… those were not the most powerful things about him.
He shook the thought from his head and took the hares to the kitchen, where he skinned them expertly with his blade. A lifetime ago, his father had taught him the best way to remove the hide and gut the animal, a lesson that had been ingrained so deeply he could practically do it with his eyes closed now. Talemir had taught the same to Wilder, who’d been hilariously squeamish at first. Smiling to himself, he set about making a meal – a rich hare stew, a recipe Malik had taught him on one of their many adventures. Luckily, raiders apparently had no use for dried herbs and spices, and so Talemir used these generously in the heavy pot he hung over the hearth, creating a decadent broth for the meat, the aromas making his mouth water. All the while, he thought of Drue, wondering how she would be when she woke and if she would regret what had happened between them…
Talemir’s chest seized painfully at the prospect, for he longed to do what he’d done again and again. His cock stirred beneath the loose fabric of his shorts at the idea of seating himself between her legs and —
