Chapter 23
HELENA
I will do whatever it takes to keep you as mine.
As I relish the warmth of Theron’s arms, the promise he made earlier in the night keeps echoing in my head. It’s late, well past midnight, and I’m tucked beneath the covers with my head resting against his chest. He holds me as though I belong there, so close to his heart.
I don’t think he’s asleep.
My thoughts buzz relentlessly, brimming with questions I long to ask him.
About the bond, the times we could hear one another’s thoughts.
About the visions. About Elssandra and the strange, unsettling sense that my life is somehow entangled with hers.
But fear clamps down on my tongue, keeping me silent.
I guard my thoughts carefully, too. Whenever my mind drifts toward the visions or the possibility that I might be connected to Elssandra in some way, I shove those thoughts into the darkest, most tightly sealed corner of my consciousness, the place I pray King Theron cannot reach.
I shift beneath the covers, then immediately go still. Gods. The sensation between my thighs is unbearable, a slow, aching throb that refuses to ease no matter how still I lie. I press my legs together, fighting the urge to squirm, but it only makes the heat intensify.
A flush creeps up my neck as I realize the damage has already been done. My body has betrayed me completely. And worse, I suspect King Theron can sense it.
Is he lying awake, breathing in the evidence of my desire?
His breaths aren’t deep or rhythmic. They’re measured. Controlled. Aware.
I dare to open my eyes and glance downward…
My breath catches when I notice the unmistakable bulge beneath the covers. Heat coils low in my belly. I’m not the only one who’s burning up with desire.
For one reckless moment, I consider letting my hand drift down his chest… and lower.
A growl rumbles from his throat, and his fingers slide slowly through my hair. His entire body goes tense, and I sense his restraint.
“You’re making it very difficult for me to sleep, darling human,” he murmurs, his tone taking on a scolding edge. “The slickness between your thighs… gods, it’s driving me mad.”
I open my mouth to apologize, then stop myself. Why should I? I didn’t choose this desire. I didn’t ask for the way my body responds to him, or for the intimacy that keeps growing between us despite all the times I’ve tried to push him away. All the times I tried to guard my heart but failed.
I do care about him. That truth settles heavily in my chest.
And I know he cares about me too, at least in the way a powerful, possessive fae male cares for a female he desires. A female he thinks he owns.
The thought makes me frown. I don’t want to be a concubine or a pleasure slave, cherished only for my body.
But if I let King Theron claim me… isn’t that exactly what I would become?
What, then, do I truly want?
Before I can unravel that question, he shifts, sitting up against the padded headboard and drawing me with him. He touches my cheek, tilting my face toward his. His eyes burn with restrained hunger, his nostrils flaring as if he’s fighting himself with every breath.
I want him.
The realization hits me with startling clarity. My pulse races, and the warmth between my thighs deepens, pulsing so fiercely I have to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. He’s so much bigger than me, so powerful, but every part of me aches to surrender, to trust him.
He leans closer, his winter-cool breath drifting along my ear.
“I want to taste you, Helena,” he murmurs. “I want to feast on the slickness between your thighs and feel you shatter against my mouth.”
My pussy spasms at his words, and a soft moan drifts from my throat. I’m teetering on the edge of something wild and dangerous, another point of no return, just like the night we kissed. If we do this, there will be no going back.
And the most frightening truth of all?
I’m no longer sure I want to go back.
He nuzzles his nose against my face, then trails kisses down my neck.
A shivering breath leaves me. The ache between my thighs pulsates with so much heat that I almost gyrate my center into his leg.
I angle my head to give him better access to my neck, inviting his soft kisses.
Pleasure winds through me, swift and unstoppable.
Goosebumps erupt all over my body, and my head spins with the euphoria of it.
I delve my hands into his hair, and for the first time ever, my fingers brush over his thick, curving horns.
More spasms of heat affect my core, and I find myself gasping for air.
The covers shift, and I feel his hands on me, roaming over my arms, my stomach, my bosom, and eventually, trailing down between my thighs.
He draws back to meet my eyes, then he cups my center over my nightdress and gives a hard, possessive squeeze. I arch into him with another whimper, my eyes briefly fluttering shut. When I return my focus to him, he’s still staring at me intently, still cupping my pussy as though he owns it.
“Are you going to spread your thighs for me, darling human?” Though he just asked a question, his voice is deep and filled with command.
“Yes!” I gasp. I try to gyrate against his hand, but he’s holding me so firmly that I’m not able to move much.
His eyes flash with triumph. “Are you going to say my name as you climax on my tongue?”
“Yes,” I bite out, still trying to undulate my core against his palm.
He places his lips at my ear. “My name is Theron. Just Theron.” He leans back to stare down at me again, then delves his other hand into my hair and gives a slight tug.
“Say it. I want to hear you say it now.” His body is taut, his visage firmed with expectation and anticipation.
A yearning that surely comes from deep in his soul.
“Theron,” I say, uttering his name with reverence as I hold his gaze. “Theron.”
A growl of pleasure vibrates from his throat, then his lips crash against mine. As he kisses me, a kiss as savage and wild as the winter storms he calls forth, he keeps a firm, possessive hold on my core, grinding his palm into the heated part of me that’s aching to be claimed.
He kisses me until I’m breathless but still doesn’t stop.
As the savage kiss continues, his hand leaves my center briefly, but only so he can thrust my nightdress upward and slip his hand inside my undergarments.
Oh, dear gods. He’s touching me, his large cool hand directly on my pussy, stroking, teasing, and spreading the wetness from my core over my throbbing clit.
I gyrate into his touch, desperate for more.
Then, I hear him. At last, I hear his thoughts in my head.
Greedy little human. So wet and eager. I can’t wait to taste you. I can’t wait to conquer you. His growls echo in my head.
I hear you, I say down the tether that’s once again anchoring us to one another. Can you hear me?
He’s quiet for a moment, and I sense his surprise, but also his pleasure. Yes, darling human. I can hear you. Thank the gods the connection between us remains intact. I adore you so, and I like having you in my mind. It feels… like fate.
It feels like fate. My pulse quickens as I try to consider what that might mean.
But it soon becomes difficult to string a coherent thought together as he withdraws from our kiss and then drags his teeth, his sharp, pointed, fae teeth, down between my breasts until he reaches my stomach.
I cry out at the faint scraping sensation, and my core pulses hotter.
I hear ripping fabric and realize he’s torn my undergarments completely away.
He pushes my nightdress higher, exposing my center to his hungry gaze.
His eyes darken, and as he crouches below me, I catch another glimpse of the massive bulge in his trousers.
Will he get naked soon? I can’t help but wonder.
Of course, he hears this thought, and a wicked, shameless smile spreads across his lips.
If you do a good job of climaxing on my tongue, darling human, perhaps I will let you suck my cock. Then you can finally get a good look at it and satiate your curiosity. But I feel I must warn you. I’m very well-endowed.
You are arrogant beyond belief, I tell him.
His smile broadens and turns more wicked.
Then he slips two thick fingers into my slick center, pushing deep, catching me off guard.
A moan rips from my throat, and I press myself into his hand, stunned by how stretched I feel from just two of his fingers.
When his thumb strokes over my clit, drawing more moisture over the swollen button, my legs tremble and a fresh spasm of heat ripples throughout my body.
I feel feverish. Aflame. Wanton.
He shifts on the bed and withdraws his fingers from my core. I whimper at the sudden loss of the fullness, but he doesn’t leave me wanting for long. He spreads my thighs wider apart and leans down, angling his mouth over my pussy. His horns brush against my inner thighs.
Oh, gods. I tense in anticipation of the first brush of his tongue over my clit. I feel a slow caress of cool winter air just before he starts lapping at me.
My strangled groan reverberates off the stone walls of the bedchamber.
Needing something to hold onto, I grip the covers, or maybe it’s the bunched fabric of my nightdress, as my head thrashes back and forth on the pillow.
Pleasure coils, warmth undulates, and his tongue keeps swirling over my button with the perfect amount of pressure.
He pushes my legs even wider apart, and he pulls back from my center briefly just to gaze at my nether area.
I flush as I watch what he’s doing. He’s staring at my pussy with an intensity that makes me quiver, and a deep satisfaction that helps push away what few inhibitions remain.
He likes what he sees. That much is obvious.
You’re so beautiful, Helena. His voice resounds in my head, a comforting presence. You’re so beautiful and slick and pink. And you taste divine. Like nectar from a rare winter flower.