Page 79 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
I arch off the ground and grip a fist of his hair, his name leaving my lips in prayer, blood rushing from my center to my thighs and spreading all the way down to my toes. My walls pulse in rash, powerful waves, so hard I bite down on my tongue. As if my body means to keep him there forever, or crush him, or both.
“How are you even— That’s insane… Fuck-Fuck-Fuck. I can’t?—”
He slams his hips forward and fills me with his seed, his head falling on my chest.
He gives an almost apologetic grunt as he falls to his side next to me. “By the Flame… how did you ensnare me so tightly?”
I take it as a post-climax, rhetorical question, and abandon myself to his embrace.
With Henri, sex was almost a race to the end, meant to reach a point where we felt satisfied enough to put our clothes back on and go on with our day, but Aidan was not kidding when he said he wanted my body to become addicted to him. The self-consciousness I expected to feel now that we’ve given in to our most basic instincts and said a bunch of embarrassing nonsense is nowhere to be found, and I close my eyes, feeling perfectly comfortable.
With him. With my body. Safe. Satisfied.Happy.
Loved, even.
Aidan rubs my back up and down a few times before dipping below my waist to caress my ass, softly kneading the flesh as he places butterfly kisses on my shoulder blades. “You’re perfect, Songbird. I’m simply obsessed with you.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Wonder Boy.”
“Say that again.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from giggling. “I kind of like you, too,Wonder Boy,” I repeat in a sultry drawl.
He groans against the back of my ear and pulls on my knee, guiding my left leg across his body before dragging his hand between my thighs. The scents of our sweaty bodies have mixed to form a new, entirely different scent that rekindles the blaze in my belly.
“Mm,” I coo, my body spent and yet incredibly pleased with his attentions, as though he activated some kind of never-ending loop. “You’re being greedy, now.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he grins, curling a finger to stroke my insides.
I claw his arm to keep it in place. “Nuh-uh.” My body coils in a fourth, almost immediate release, soaking the blanket underneath us as I bite the back of my free hand to muffle a scream.
“Sorry,” I breathe.
“Not at all. It was glorious.”
“I meant the blanket.”
“Forget the blanket.” He pecks my lips.
“Let me see that mark.” I twist around to face him and trace the phoenix mark, caressing the burns that forever etched his skin, and my brows furrow. “Did it hurt?”
“Not that I can remember,” he breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Look who’s talking.” I press my ear to his chest and listen to his heartbeat, indulging my fascination for the lines of his body until his eyelids flutter. His chest rises and falls as my hand wanders lower, and his cock stiffens almost immediately in my grip.
His eyes snap open. “I want you on your hands and knees. Is that okay?”
“I’m at your command, my prince,” I tease.
His lips part in surprise. The bob of his throat betrays just how much he loved that, and a gleeful smile spreads on my lips. The tip of him points at the sky, red and glistening,achingfor round two.
I slide off him and roll unto my stomach, the logistics of switching positions somehow lost to his pure, devout touch. He strokes my sides and ass as though it’s an actual act of worship, and I claw at the blanket in anticipation. The angle puts him deeper, somehow, and my head falls forward as he enters me.
I’m already addicted to the rush.
Aidan doesn’t justmake loveto me for a second time. He doesn’t just fuck my brains out. He takes ownership of my body in ways that melt me from the inside out, effortlessly mixing hot, filthy commands with sweet, enamored promises, and blinding, carefree fun. I never thought sex could be all those things at once, but here I am, eager to both please my prince and make him beg. Both teasing him for his confidence and blushing at his guile.
I give him the words he craves and agree to be his. The hushed pieces of forever will no doubt be smashed to dust in the morning, but they sound so real by moonlight. Crazy thing is, even though they’re not true, they’re no longer a lie, either.
