“That’s my girl,” he murmured.
My pulse thrummed as I took him into my mouth once more, gripping him with my other hand. I sucked on him as I did what he’d demanded. My hum of approval was lost in his growl as he thrust harder, his movements roughening, but there was a line of control in each push of his hips. He didn’t hurt me, and gods, I knew he could easily with how hard he was, how strong he was, but he took without taking, and I took more of that taste of him into my mouth, grinding against the bed as I touched myself. Muscles tightened and spun deep inside. He couldn’t hear my moans, but I knew he felt them as he watched me work his cock with my mouth, work myself with my own fingers. The release hit me hard, stealing my breath—
The Prince pulled out of my mouth, pushing me onto the bed as he settled between my legs, trapping my hand and his cock between us as he braced his weight above me. The hand in my hair tugged my head back. My gaze met his as he shuddered, his release hot and tingling against my hand— against my core, his body just as heated as his flesh seemed to hum. My eyes went wide at the riot of sensations as the edges of his body glowed just like the sōls. The sound I made as I clutched his arm would surely embarrass me, but his laugh— his rich, sultry laugh as he rocked against me— tugged at my own lips as wave after wave of pleasure swept through me.
And it went on, seconds into minutes, long after he’d stilled against me. The tremors of pleasure kept coming even as he reached between us, easing my fingers from me. I shook as he . . . he held himself over me, brushing the strands of damp hair back from my face, touching my cheek, my parted lips, his eyes open and not missing a single moment. He watched me, petted me as I came and came until the final wave of pleasure faded and I was finally released from the thrall. I stared at him, eyes half open.
Good gods, Naomi hadn’t been wrong about the orgasms. . . .
“Stay here,” the Prince said.
I wasn’t going anywhere as he lifted himself off me. I couldn’t move, every muscle seeming to have lost the ability to work. I thought I heard the water turn on. My eyes drifted shut as I lay there, the warmth disappearing from between my thighs before the taste of him faded from my tongue. I might’ve actually dozed off, because when I blinked open my eyes to find him standing above me, I had a feeling that he’d been there for some time.
“Here.” He bent, pressing one knee into the bed as he slid a hand under the nape of my neck and lifted my head. “Drink this.”
I opened my mouth to the cup he held at my lips. It was water and I drank fiercely, not realizing until that moment how thirsty I was. He took the cup away when I finished, then picked up a cloth he must’ve brought with him. He took ahold of my arm, wiping the damp cloth over my limp fingers and then lowering my hand to the bed.
“Next time— and there will be a next time,” he swore, dragging the cloth between my legs. The blue of his eyes turned luminous as I moaned, lifting my hips weakly against his touch. One side of his lips curled up. “You’re going to come on my dick, and you’re going to stay right there until the last bit of pleasure leaves you.” He paused, head tilting. “Do you agree?”
My brows lifted at his attempt at asking, and I would’ve laughed if I weren’t so tired. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Thorne,” he said with another laugh. “And I’m glad we agree.”
I snorted.
As he tossed the cloth aside, I knew I needed to get up and get dressed. The Prince wanted my company, but I knew there was a certain part of my company he desired that didn’t include me passed out in his bed, despite his request the previous night. Ordering myself to get moving, I started to sit up.
I didn’t make it very far.
Prince Thorne returned to my side, and before I knew what he was up to, he lifted me. He laid me down across the center of the bed, then settled in beside me. The click of the lamp turning off followed. I blinked open my eyes to the darkness of the room— to the chest I faced and touched. He planned on me staying the night with him? Sleeping beside him?
I’d only ever slept with Grady, and that was absolutely nothing like this. I didn’t know what to think or feel as I lay there. My heart tumbled over itself, but beneath my palm, his chest was still except for the shallow rise and fall of his breath. What had he meant when he said his heart hadn’t beat like a mortal’s in a long time? Did it have to do with how he was . . . created?
“Are you asleep?” I whispered.
There was silence and then, “Yes.”
My brows knitted. “Are you answering me in your sleep then?”
“Yes.” The arm around my waist tightened.
I swallowed, my fingers pressing against his chest— against where his heart should be but I couldn’t feel. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
My nose wrinkled. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Yes, na’laa.”
“Don’t call me that,” I muttered.
“You’re being especially stubborn at the moment, though.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
He sighed, but the sound wasn’t an annoyed one. It was almost as if he were amused. “What’s your question?”
Biting down on my lip, I stared at the shadowy outline of his chest beneath my palm. “Did your heart beat like a mortal’s once before?”
“Yes.” He yawned.
I curled a finger against his skin. “Why doesn’t it beat like that now?”
“Because I . . .” His hand moved idly over my lower back. “I lost the ny’chora.”
“And what is that?”
He didn’t answer for so long that I thought he might have fallen asleep on me. “Everything.”
Everything? I waited for him to elaborate, but there was only silence. “Are you still awake?”
“No,” came the response with a soft laugh.
The corners of my lips rose, but the small grin quickly faded. I swallowed. “Would you prefer that I . . . that I return to my chambers?”
His arm tightened even more, pressing my stomach to his. “If I preferred that, you wouldn’t be in the bed with me.”
“Oh.”
He shifted, somehow managing to tuck one of my legs between his. “Na’laa?”
“Yes?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Good night, Your . . .” I closed my eyes, heart feeling . . . light. It had never felt that way before. “Good night, Thorne.”
He didn’t answer, but as I drifted off to sleep, I felt his lips brush against my forehead, and I thought I heard him whisper, “Good night, Calista.”
CHAPTER 28
When I woke, the space beside me was empty, but the soft, woodsy scent clung to the sheets and to my skin. I placed my hand on the bed, feeling the warmth of his body heat that still lingered.
Thorne.
There was this vague memory of waking in the gray light of dawn to the touch of his fingertips along the curve of my cheek, the brush of his lips along my brow, and the sound of his voice. “Sleep well,” he’d whispered. “I’ll return to your side soon.”
I opened my eyes, my chest . . . swelling. The feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant but was wholly unfamiliar, and it scared me, because it felt like a promise of something more.
Bringing my legs up, I tucked them against my chest. There couldn’t be a promise of anything more, even if I wasn’t sure exactly what the idea of more actually entailed. I knew enough. More went beyond pleasure shared in the darkest hours of night. More went beyond the physical. More was a future.
And none of those things were possible with a Hyhborn, let alone a prince. Especially the Prince of Vytrus.
But he claimed to have saved Archwood because he had found me.
Rolling onto my back, I shook my head. He couldn’t have been serious about that, no matter what he thought of my supposed bravery.
Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)
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