Page 39 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“Carver?” I manage on a lost and ragged breath.
“Mmm,” he hums as he slowly slips my panties to the side. “It doesn’t look like Prince Carver feels disrespected.”
Warm hands clasp loosely around my bare shoulders, and my head tilts back against a hard stomach to see the most mischievous eyes peering down on me. Carver’s smile is partly agape as his attention trails from my eyes to my lips to my breast to the man now fully pushing my thighs open just before the hot flat of his tongue slides up my center.
My head steadies against the Fae Prince while my hands hold tightly to messy blonde hair.
“You look so fucking sexy like this,” Carver whispers to me as one of his hands cradles around my throat and the other slowly crawls down my bare shoulder over my collar, and he palms the weight of my breast in his hand. Delicate fingers tease across my nipple while he holds my jaw in place, forcing me to look up at him. “You could save us all from ourselves, couldn’t you? One mortal girl to reunite the Dark Lands.”
There’s darkness behind his eyes like he’s being dragged back to the memory of what broke the Dark Lands.
Christian lifts from between my thighs, and I can’t tell if he’s watching us, but his thumb strokes over my clit slowly, and I tremble in their hands.
“Stop talking, Fae. Pull down your pants,” Christian commands, and Carver’s smile turns wolfish.
“As you wish, My Prince.” He releases me, and I’m still trying to keep up with them as he takes a step back from me and raises his hands over his head.
In an instant, he’s dragging the thin tunic over his messy black hair and ruffling wings. Hard lines and bronze skin turn slick in the misting rain. His fingers take their time at the waist of his pants, and I look to Christian to ensure he’s not about to cut anything important off of my mate because all of this feels very much like a trap. I’m in a fae realm about to have a three-way with a Vampire Prince and a cursed fae prince...
Something is not adding up.
“Christian,” I start, but his hands grip my dress at the hem once more...
And then he pulls. Hard.
The fabric tears up the center and drops to the ground in a puddle of water. I’m naked between them in nothing more than my underwear before I can even say spit roast.
“Come here, pretty pet,” he whispers as he grips my hips and pulls my ass ever so slightly off of the bench. My elbows brace me up, and he holds me carefully in his lap. “You’re not just a pet to me,” he whispers along my lips. His kiss is distracting, and I almost hate that he’s bringing up the conversation from earlier because it’ll end in us arguing. We’re too strongheaded. Too similar. Too...
And then he rips my panties away too.
“Christian! Those were a gift!”
A smile tilts his lips.
“From the Thorn King?” he asks cockily.
My lips purse, and I hear a rumbling of laughter behind us.
“You’re mine.” He bows over me with growling words humming along my neck and the faintest scraping of teeth against my skin. “You’re the only fucking person in all the realms I care about.” Something hard and smooth grazes along my inner thigh and then I feel him there, slick against my sex with teasing strokes at my entrance. “Your voice in my head is the only fucking voice of reason that I’ve ever known, Crymson Vaine.” I smile at that, but as I do, he sinks slowly in, inch by inch, stretching me for him with controlled dominance that I’ve never seen in him before. “Crymson,” he holds me in place by my hip with one hand and cradles my head in his other as he thrusts in fully, and my lips part without sound. “Crymson, look at me,” he orders, and my head tilts forward in an instant to catch his hooded gaze.
I crave you, he sends down the bond of our thoughts, and I shiver at the feel of his rumbling voice in my messy mind.
The chaotic lines of his magic turn darker across his flesh, spreading over his neck and face like he can't control it even when he tries. He fucks me hard, and it’s difficult to hold his gaze now, but he keeps his palm around my neck, forcing me to feel every single ounce of the bond we share.
I need you, Crymson.
The pounding of his hips grinds into me over and over again in time with the beating rain.
I love you.
Thunder booms as lightning blooms across the most beautifully darkened skyline.
“I–” I try to say it back, but his smile is knowing, and his hips are cruel as they grind into me in just the right way.
“Shh,” he murmurs against my neck, his fangs extending even more. “Now, tip your pretty head back and open yourmouth for the Blood Carver,” he whispers sweetly before sharp fangs pierce painfully through my flesh.
My eyes roll back as my head falls against the cement bench with a moaning scream on my lips. He grips me hard and fucks me harder. Slick blood streams down my neck and chest, and its tingling sensation only makes me ache for more. I reach up over my head, and Carver’s fingers tangle with mine.
