The Princess In A ‘Prince’ Disguise (Beasts of Wrath and Madness #1)

45. MIDNIGHT WANTS

Chapter forty-five

MIDNIGHT WANTS

Vladya glanced at the naked maid before him. She had undressed and presented to him.

In that position, Vladya should have been rock-hard, tearing off his clothes and mounting her within seconds. However, his body barely responded.

After he undressed, Vladya stroked himself to a half-hard state and positioned himself behind the willing body. But when he grabbed hold of her hips, it felt...wrong. Despite her willingness, she was not the one his body wanted.

Aekeira is close. You know it, a voice whispered in his mind. Take what you want from her. Take what you need.

He straightened. "Get out.”

The female looked confused, but quickly obeyed.

Vladya slipped into his robe and made his way out, arriving at the girl's chambers. Her door was closed, but it opened silently when he turned the handle. It was fortunate too, for a flimsy door handle would not have stopped him—it would only provoke his beast further.

The sight that greeted him was a vision of great beauty. Aekeira lay sprawled across the bed, her white nightgown in tone with her pale skin and the cascade of golden hair spilling across the pillows. Her eyes were closed, her breath a gentle rhythm in the quiet room.

Vladya entered, locking the door behind him with a decisive click. It had been a mistake, bringing her to Blackstone. She was too close. Too tempting. Too easily accessible.

But for one night, just this one night, he wanted to forget. To think of nothing else. To indulge in the one he truly desired.

Tomorrow, he would resume the battle against himself. Tomorrow, he would face the chaos.

Merilyn knew him well. For as much as Vladya would love to take the righteous path, to let go of Daemonikai, to end his friend's tortured existence, he could not. He had always been selfish, and he had no intentions of changing now.

So what if Daemonikai was broken? So what if the weight of his loss proved unbearable? They would decide if they would have to muddle through it or revert to being feral. Together .

There were two options he was looking at. The first, he would fight them off, even if it meant killing Zaiper in the process. The death of a grand lord was no trivial matter, but Vladya cared little for the consequences.

Should this approach fail—possibly due to obstacles like iron shards, dragon blood, and poisoned bullets— he would turn to his second option. He would chant the Xaa'l Tbeh Zeek .

A dangerous and forbidden dark magic used for mind exchange.

His mind for the return of Daemonikai's. There really was not much left of his mind anyway, so it was a fair trade.

Regardless of the outcome, Vladya was prepared to transform into his beast form and spill any amount of blood necessary to safeguard Daemonikai, even if it meant he could not shift back to his male form again.

Ultimately, both paths led to the same destination, Daemonikai's protection. Even at the cost of Vladya's own sanity. Whatever was left of it, anyway.

So yes, tonight, he would indulge.

With that thought, he extinguished the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and climbed into bed beside her.

Aekeira stirred from her slumber, a weight pressing upon her. Even before opening her eyes, she knew Grand Lord Vladya had joined her.

Her body tingled with warmth, her body becoming aroused, even as dread filled her. Swallowing nervously, she looked up at him.

"Aekeira," he uttered in a guttural groan. He appeared livid, though that was nothing new. But this time, he looked...tired too.

Not physically exhausted, but mentally burdened. Aekeira struggled to find the right words to describe it, but tiredness seemed to fit.

"Your Highness," she whispered. Now in close proximity to him, Aekeira forced herself to look beyond the fear that always clouded her perception of this male and truly observe him, Merilyn’s words echoing in her mind.

Knowing what he had endured helped Aekeira see him as more than just her captor, slavemaster. More than just a heartless grand lord, and tormentor. She saw him as any male. As flesh and blood.

She wanted to hug him. Even if he would likely strangle her for it, Aekeira still wanted to hug him anyway. This must be what people mean when they say one was playing with scorching fire.

"Do not look at me like that," he growled, his voice sharp.

"Like what?"

"Like..." he seemed to search for the words but gave up. "Just don't look at me like that."

Like I want to embrace you and ease your pain? Aekeira had always been compassionate. It was her and her sister's strength as well as their doom.

Ever since she had learned about his struggles, she had thought about him more times than she cared to admit. Living a long life was one thing, but living it in misery was something else entirely.

He leaned down and pressed his nose against her neck, inhaling deeply. The rumbling groan he let out sent shivers down Aekeira's spine.

"You smell so good," he grumbled. "You should not smell like this. No one has the right to smell like this."

Aekeira opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't," his voice muffled against her neck. "Do not talk." Pulling back, he rose above her and undressed.

In quick, jerky movements, he pulled Aekeira's nightdress over her head. His claws slipped out, slashing the fabric of her underthings, leaving her nude before him. His eyes devoured her naked form.

Aekeira let out a shameful whimper, aware of what he saw. She was so drenched she could feel her own pool of moisture.

"Whore," he uttered, his voice low and deep. Devoid of the usual aggression. "Sweet, little whore."

The insulting word aroused Aekeira more. Her head rolled to the side, her eyes tightly shut.

His body came over hers, hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wide. His manhood probed her entrance, once, twice, and then, it was in.

Aekeira cried out. The usual pain was there, but dulled. And pleasure. Sharp, intense pleasure.

His body covered hers completely, his hands encircling her throat. He withdrew and thrust back in, again and again.

He wasn't as rough as he had been in the past, and Aekeira couldn't fathom why. She didn't dwell on it. Her body felt full and strange. A sigh escaped her lips as he rocked into her.

"So good," he sounded wrecked, his grip tightening around her throat. "Why do you feel so damn good? I could stay inside you all week and not tire of you."

The lack of air was doing something to her, heightening the strange pleasure she was already experiencing, leaving her feeling lightheaded. In a good way.

Aekeira moaned. Time slipped away. She reveled in the weight of his body on top of hers. The intoxicating pleasure coursing through her. It was there, just below the surface, tingling and trickling through her.

Maybe, just maybe, it might be better this time. Bearable.

But his movements ceased. Lifting one of her legs, Lord Vladya positioned it above her head, angling her hips before plunging deep once more.

He was deeper than ever before, each stroke sending shards of pain through her body. The pleasurable feeling slowly dissipated, replaced by a harsher, unpleasant sensation.

"Oh, please," Aekeira sobbed, her body writhing in discomfort. But there was no escape. The sensations washed over her like a tide, not relenting, not yielding.

And with each powerful thrust, he bumped against her cervix, prodding it, causing sharp pain to sizzle through her body.

The new position allowed for direct contact, and his phallus relentlessly surged in and out of her, repeatedly hitting the mouth of her womb. It was excruciating .

Grand Lord Vladya heard a girl screaming, but it felt distant, as if coming from afar.

An overwhelming urge had taken hold of him, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

The powerful need to enter the deepest part of her, meant for him. Her most sacred place. Vladya had never experienced anything quite like it. The need was irresistible. All instinctive.

He tried to fight it, but even he recognized a lost cause when he saw one.

His Urekai instincts had mistaken Aekeira for a syren. Capable of full heat. Capable of opening to accommodate his organ in her womb.

With each unsuccessful attempt to enter her deepest core, frustration coursed through Vladya. Why would his female deny him this way? Why would she not let him in!?

"Let. Me. In!” The words spilled from him in rage, his movements erratic, his thrusts vicious .

"I can't...!" Her screams pierced the night, high-pitched and agonizing. “Please, I can’t!"

"You can, you do not want to." He snarled angrily.

"No, no, please, I really can't!" She sobbed, tears spilling, head shaking from side to side, "I really can't, please. Have mercy, it hurts a lot."

Of course, she couldn't. Aekeira was not in full heat. She was no syren. She was not his .

So, what in the world was happening to him? Why wouldn't his body, his almost feral mind, take that freaking hint and stop?

Summoning all his willpower, Vladya managed to slow down his thrusts. His beast roared within him, fighting him to keep going and give them what they needed.

What in the name of all that is holy was going on?

Vladya stopped completely. Disregarding the headache that split his skull and the tumultuous anguish washing over him, he withdrew from her warm, tight heat.

Her legs came together and she curled into herself protectively, crying and shaking like a leaf.

Seeing her in such a state…got to him.

Perhaps, because, this time, Vladya had not set out to make it hurt, all his actions had been purely instinctual. He had no idea why his heart was squeezing the life out of him.

“I am sorry,” he blurted out. But seeing how distraught the girl was, he doubted she had heard him.

He rose, willing his erection to go down. Then, completely ignored it as he put on his garments, and silently walked away. Arousal still pulsated through him like a relentless drumbeat, his throbbing cock hard like granite, begging for release. But Vladya was done for the night.

This time, he was not driven by a thirst for her blood, but a profound yearning to fill her womb with his seed until her belly swelled up.

Either the feral madness was taking hold more rapidly than I had thought, or the human princess was truly some kind of witch.

What just happened? Aekeira wondered, her body and soul wracked with pain. Everywhere hurts . She had come dangerously close to passing out.

Her chamber door opened once again, and her heart impulsively reached out in desperation, wishing for Lord Vladya's return.

"Keira?" A familiar voice reached her ears.

A breath of relief left her. "Em?" she croaked.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here for you." Emeriel climbed into bed beside her and hugged her tightly. "He won't hurt you anymore. I saw him leave."

Her younger sister murmured soothingly, gently patting her hair. Emeriel's body trembled, and Aekeira could hear the strain in her voice. "It's okay, I've got you. I'm sorry I can't protect you from this. I wish I could."

How could Aekeira express to her sister that, despite the pain he had caused, she secretly longed for Lord Vladya to return?

How could she explain that, even in the midst of her hurt, she still yearned to feel his touch, to have him inside her again?

Something was seriously wrong with her.

Aekeira buried her face in Emeriel's throat and let her tears flow freely.