Page 63 of The Pureblood Princess
When the water has finally turned cold, she steps from the tub, dries her body with a scratchy towel, and then slips into bed. The mattress, though of poor quality compared to what she is used to, is heaven to her aching body, and she is asleep moments after her head touches the pillow.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Something touches Nadia’s cheek, stirringher gently awake.
Her dreamless sleep fades, and she opens her eyes to find someone hovering over her.
Konrád’s face flashes in her mind, and she jerks away, thinking to flee, tofight.
“Nadia, it’s me.” His voice is gentle, soothing. “Iubit, it’s me.”
Her panic eases, and Theodore’s face sharpens into view.
“Th-Theodore . . .”
Lurching upright in bed, she wraps her arms around his neck, and sobs shake her chest.
He pulls her into an embrace, his body warm and firm against hers. His cloak smells of snow and cold, and his dark hair is windblown. He must’ve ridden hard to get here so quickly.
“I love you,” Nadia whispers, and it’s the most natural thing she could think to say. The truth of it feels good on her tongue, and tears drip from her chin as she says it again. “Iloveyou.”
“I love you too,” he says, tightening his hold about her before pulling gently away. “I love you more than I ever thought possible, more than I had the ability to even fathom.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek, and she winces, then remembers Konrád’s assault, his fist crashing into her face again and again, the slickness of her own blood as it ran from her nose and across her lips.
Theodore stands, and the bed is suddenly cold without him. Nadia draws the blanket up to her chest, remembering only now that she’s naked beneath it.
He removes his cloak and overcoat and drapes them over the chair in the corner, then pulls off his boots and unbuttons his waistcoat. Then he’s left in his trousers and cotton undershirt, and Nadia whimpers softly as he removes what’s left of his clothing.
In the early-morning light slipping through the single window, she sees him for the first time in his most exposed form. His shoulders are broad, their width emphasizing the V shape of his muscular torso. His abdomen is lightly contoured with muscle, and a dusting of dark hair leads her eyes ever lower.
He hardens beneath her gaze, and then he’s pulling back the blanket and slipping into bed beside her. She makes room for him, then drapes the blanket across their naked bodies.
His arms wrap around her, and he pulls her body against his.
“Drink,” he whispers, guiding her mouth to his neck. “Your body needs to heal.”
She doesn’t resist him. Her fangs press through her gums, and then she’s slipping them into his neck, his soft grunt of pain beautiful to her ears.
His skin is hot beneath her hands, and his body sends delicious warmth whispering across her skin. The blood in her mouth is like nectar from the gods, so much purer and more delicious than Honora’s and Konrád’s. His taste is tantalizing, intoxicating.
She shifts slightly, moving one leg across his body so that she’s lying atop him. Her body craves him, yearns for him until it’s almost painful.
He’s already hard, and with a shift of her hips, she’s gliding onto him, drawing him into her warmth in the same way she draws his blood into her mouth.
He lets out a breathy sound, and his fingers press into her waist as she begins to ride him, slowly thrusting her hips into his. Her fingers trace up the back of his neck, twist the dark curls at his nape. Beneath her, his body quakes.
Finally, Nadia eases her fangs from his neck, then uses her tongue to lap up the blood that tries to drip down his throat. When she sits up, the blanket slips from her shoulders, and his gaze shifts, tracing across her breasts, down her navel, and then lower.
Watching him excites her, makes her want to please him more.
She increases her pace, and his gaze immediately snaps back to hers. His eyes don’t leave her face as she thrusts faster, bracing her hands on his muscled chest. Her fingernails dig into his olive skin until he flinches.
His curls are dark against the light pillow, and the warm sunlight makes his green eyes shine when he looks up at her.
And that look he gives her, so full of lust and love and want, sends her near to the edge.
With one hand, she touches herself, moving her fingers in quick, light circles.
“I can’t hold back...” Theodore whispers, his voice strained. There’s struggle in his eyes, and he grits his teeth as she increases her pace.
