Page 3 of The Pureblood Princess
“You what?” he whispers when she doesn’t yet speak.
“I . . . want to taste you too.”
The realization hits her without warning: she wants to please him in the same way, to share with him the rapture he gifted her.
She lifts her gaze to his and finds the smile gone from his mouth. He seems to search her eyes, but he doesn’t say anything as she slowly takes hold of his shoulders and turns him around to press his back against the tree.
“Are you sure?” he whispers while she drops slowly to her knees.
As she settles herself onto the earth, she can feel her wetness soaking into her skirt. Her walls still throb lightly, the waves receding a bit at a time.
“I’m sure,” she whispers, reaching for his trousers.
Taking hold of the top button, she struggles momentarily to free it, her fingers trembling with delicate nervousness. Theodore shifts slightly against the tree, his length begging to burst from the confines of the strict fabric. Finally, the button pops open, and then there’s only one more to set loose.
Nadia takes hold of the button and eases it from the loop, then reaches for his waistband and eases the breeches down.
His arousal springs free, aggressive and hungry, and her pulse flutters in response. This close, with his length begging to be caressed, she wonders how on earth she ever thought herself capable of handling such a thing.
“Nadia,” Theodore whispers, calling her gaze up to his face. His eyes are soft, though his hands curl into fists at his sides, betraying his desire. “You don’t have to do this.”
Something about the gentleness in his tone makes her cross, and she shifts her gaze down again, even more determined to make him moan for her.
Wading into unknown waters, she takes him in one hand and begins stroking up and down. A sigh slips from his lips, and he sets his head back against the tree. His skin is smooth, soft, but his demanding hardness begs for something more. So, with a trepidatious breath, Nadia leans forward and eases him between her lips.
His response is to dig his fingers into the tree, and he presses his hips forward slightly as she takes more of him into her mouth.
It’s no easy feat, and she momentarily fears she may choke on him. But then she casts a glance up at him, and the look of rapture on his face gives her a burst of confidence.
She slides her lips up and down his length, wetting him with her tongue, and wraps her hand around the base of his shaft. He’s panting now, growing harder in her mouth. Settling into a rhythm, she continues to stroke him, relishing the primal sounds falling from Theodore’s lips. His fingers dig into the tree, leaving grooves in the bark. She can feel his tension building and increases her speed.
Theodore goes absolutely still for one moment, and then he moans, spilling his warmth into her mouth. It drips from her lips and down her hand, and she swallows what she can before pulling away and turning her head to wipe her mouth.
“You are a goddess,” Theodore says, his voice breathless, airy. His trousers still around his ankles, he pushes a hand through his tousled dark hair and lets out a contented laugh.
“It pleased you?” Nadia asks, rising to her feet.
His response is a fang-filled smile. He draws her into his chest, his warm length pressing against her, and she slips her arms around him. They remain like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace, and Nadia closes her eyes to listen to the rapid beating of his heart. He’s firm and real and alive against her, yet she can’t help but to remember that night in the garden when Theodore’s blood stained the grass and his life came dangerously close to slipping away.
In dreams, she often relives the moment she drove the silver dagger through the hunter’s chest. Sometimes she awakens in a panic, sure she can feel a noose around her neck, but Theodore has assured her they took care of the body and no one is coming for her. Other times she holds Theodore as his life slips away, and he perishes in her arms as raindrops wash the blood from his face. Those dreams are the worst, and when they do plague her, she awakens with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The thought of it makes her grip him more fiercely, as if he could disappear from her arms in a moment.
“Are you all right?” he asks, perhaps mistaking her change in demeanor for something else, like shame or regret.
She pulls back from him with a smile and nods cheerfully to hide the fear in her heart, the fear that he may one day no longer be hers to hold, that she may find herself having to face her days without him.
“You said something that night in the garden,” she whispers, remembering vaguely what he said before making love to her beneath the moonlight, something about her beinghis. It sends a light tremble down her spine. “You said we were...” She searches briefly for the word. “Fated. What did you mean?”
She’s been meaning to ask him, but it feels like such an intimate question, and it’s certainly not something she’d feel comfortable voicing at the dinner table with all the Rosettis staring back at her. This conversation needed to wait for this moment, when they are alone and face-to-face.
“Ah, I should’ve explained.” Straightening up, Theodore pulls out of her embrace and bends down to lift his trousers. “The bond. It’s something that happens between purebloods, but even then, it’s incredibly rare.” After doing up the buttons on his waistband, he reaches out for her, and she takes his hand. “When purebloods are fated for each other, their bond is instant, irresistible.” He casts his green gaze down at her, and she curls around his arm, relishing his warmth and firmness. “I felt it when I saw you across the ballroom that night, but you can imagine my confusion, seeing as I believed you to be human.”
Theodore chuckles, and Nadia wishes she could’ve been in his head the night they first saw each other across the ballroom floor. What did he think of her, all pale and trembling in Lord Felton’s arms? Looking back, she recalls being drawn to him in a way that felt both natural and unfamiliar, like she was acting on an instinct she didn’t realize she possessed.
“And that’s why you called on me the next day,” Nadia says, the pieces falling together like a puzzle in her mind. It all makes sense now.
Theodore nods. “The vial you wore, the tonic you drank—you were a mystery to me. I had to learn more; I couldn’t keep away from you.” He leans down and presses a kiss atop her head, his virile hunger having given way to tenderness.
