Page 63 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
A growl rumbled in his chest. One hand slid up my thigh beneath my skirts, his cool fingers finding heated flesh and his claws brushing against the soft warmth of my inner thigh. "Here? Against this wall? I suppose it’s good I locked the door or else someone might walk in on us."
I should have been scandalized. Should have protested. But all I could do was nod, my body arching against him as his knee continued its torturous rhythm.
His fingers found the edge of my undergarments, and then his hand was on me, really on me, and I cried out. He swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing me deeply as his clawed fingers explored, stroking and circling until I was trembling in his arms.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “That’s how I’ll remember this night. The way you trembled for me. The fact that we have come to this point, and that we have found something beautiful to share with one another before all is tested and the world risks falling away.”
“If we do this, will it keep us from completing the ceremony tomorrow night?” I asked, staring up at him. “Can we still have a wedding to satisfy the curse?”
“Yes, we can still have a public ceremony.” Another low chuckle tumbled from his lips. “If we’re doing this in strict tradition, the couple pledges to one another first, then they have the public ceremony later, typically followed by the coronation.” He kissed me again on the cheek and down my neck, then found my lips again as his clawed fingers teased me with care. “I pledge myself to you, my one and only, my sweet, my thorned queen beneath the blood moon. I give you everything I am—claws, crown, breath, and shadow.”
I returned the kiss, my eyes shuttering as I breathed him in. Then I found my own words. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, Vetle. I don’t know if we’ll have a future, or just this one fragile night. But I pledge myself to you, my one and only, my love, my shadowed king beneath this blood moon. I give you everything I am—heart, breath, and strength. Whatever I am.”
I arched against him, heat pooling low in my belly as his touch grew bolder. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling himcloser as I kissed him with a desperation I didn't know I possessed. Every nerve ending felt alive, sparking with sensation wherever his skin met mine. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
His cool thumb pad circled slowly, deliberately, and I gasped against his mouth. The cold marble at my back was a stark contrast to the heat flooding through me, grounding me even as I felt like I might float away.
I felt him shift, heard the rustle of fabric as he freed himself and maneuvered. Then the blunt pressure of him was there, pressing against my entrance. My breath caught as my eyes shuttered.
"Look at me," he said.
I forced my eyes open, meeting his burning amber gaze. The intensity there stole what little breath I had left.
"I love you," he said again, the words fierce and reverent at once. Then he pushed forward, filling me in one slow, deliberate thrust.
The sensation was overwhelming—the stretch, the fullness, the coolness, the way he seemed to reach every part of me. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders through the fabric of his robe.
He held still, giving me time to adjust, his forehead pressed against mine. "Breathe," he murmured. "Just breathe. And if you need me to stop, tell me, and I will. I don’t want this to hurt."
I nodded, drawing in shaky breaths as my body accommodated him. The initial sting faded, replaced by a deep, aching need.
"We should—" I tried to form coherent thoughts, but they scattered like dandelion seeds on the wind. "We should probably—oh?—"
He'd found a particularly sensitive spot, and my words dissolved into a moan.
His hand slid to the small of my back, angling my hips as he withdrew slightly and then thrust back in. The new angle sent pleasure spiraling through me, and I barely held back the cry that escaped my lips.
"That's it," he murmured against my throat, his breath cool on my heated skin. "Let me hear you."
He set a rhythm then, slow and deep, each movement deliberate. The marble scraped against my back through the gown, but I barely noticed. All I could focus on was him—the way he filled me, the sound of his breathing growing ragged, the feel of his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks.
My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper. One of his hands left my hip to brace against the wall beside my head, his claws scraping stone as he increased his pace.
"You feel—" His words broke off into a groan. "Perfect. Youareperfect."
So was he.
I kissed him, hungry and desperate, swallowing his sounds as he swallowed mine. The tension coiling in my belly wound tighter with each thrust, building toward something incredible.
His thumb found that sensitive spot between us again, circling in time with his movements. The dual sensation was almost too much. My head fell back against the wall, my eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure built and built.
"Look at me," he commanded again, his voice rough. "I want to see you when you come apart."
I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The hunger there, the possessiveness mixed with something tender and awed—it pushed me over the edge.
The climax hit me like lightning, white-hot and all-consuming. I cried out his name, my body clenching around him as pleasure rolled through me in devastating waves. He followedmoments later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried his face in my neck, my name a prayer on his lips.
We stayed like that for long moments, both of us trembling, our harsh breathing the only sound. Slowly, carefully, he lowered me until my feet touched the ground, though he kept his arms around me. My legs felt like water.
