Chapter 73
Belle
I could barely believe the invitation slipping off my tongue—the secret desire I’d harbored for months, that I was too afraid to ask, finally set free by his blood. I wanted him desperately, and I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.
Valen’s lips curved in a sinful promise, his molten gaze locked on mine as he traced his fingertips along the curve of my breast and down my ribcage. “I want to claim every inch of you.”
“Is that so?” Something wicked thrummed through me. I was desperate to know how.
“I’m going to worship your sweet little body until you’re wet and begging for more,” he said slowly, tugging sharply on the laces of my bodice until the bow unraveled. “But you’re already wet for me, aren’t you, princess?”
I inhaled softly, the indecency of his words heating my cheeks and lighting a deep ache in my center.
“Answer me,” he ordered, his tone commanding and yet gentle.
“Yes.”
A feral heat flashed in his honeyed eyes. “I want to taste you when you come on my tongue, to hear you moan my name when you break with pleasure.”
I tipped my head back and shivered. “I promise I will.”
He took my chin and lowered his lips to mine, his tongue parting them and dipping inside in a slow, sensual stroke that made my body hum with need. “And when you think you can’t possibly take anymore, I want to make you mine.”
“Yours…” I exhaled in pleasure as I imagined his mouth on my most intimate place. His hands exploring, teasing, fulfilling.
“Mine. I will fuck you so well, you’ll never be able to imagine another man inside you.” He pressed his nose to my neck and breathed me in.
“Gods, yes.”
He chuckled darkly, the vibration of his breath sending another cascade of shivers through me. “I assure you, princess, it will have nothing to do with the gods.”
This man would destroy me.
He pulled me closer, his expression ferocious. “You’ve tormented me every second that you’ve been here, and I can’t control myself any longer. I will keep you. Claim you. Never let you leave my bed.”
When I didn’t answer, he swept his fingers along the curve of my jaw, his gaze following the path. “Does that frighten you?”
It did, but not for the reasons it should have.
“Yes,” I admitted. “But it also thrills me.”
He brushed his thumb across my lower lip, parting it. “Now that you know the costs, do you still want me to stay?”
“Only if you do every single thing you promised.” I drew his thumb into my mouth, pressing my teeth into his skin.
Heat and surprise flashed in his eyes. He reached for my bodice, his practiced fingers tugging loose the rest of the laces, parting the soft leather with ease, as if he’d done it hundreds of times before.
I bit back the thought—and the sharp sting that came with it—and lifted my arms as he slid the garment over my shoulders, dropping it to the floor. His gaze fell to the peaks of my nipples beneath the linen chemise. “These have been tormenting me since I tasted them.”
He slid one hand under the hem of my shirt and palmed my breast as he lowered his mouth to the other and sucked my nipple through the fabric.
The sensation rippled through me, and I arched my back and moaned. Warmth spread between my thighs, and I squeezed them shut, as if that would ease my need.
It didn’t.
“Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked, his gravel tone scraping over my skin.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He lifted his head, his hand cradling and massaging me. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I like it when you touch me. Please, don’t stop.”
He tore the fabric of my shirt apart, baring my breasts.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he took my nipple again in his mouth, licking and teasing, tormenting me in the most wondrous way.
Each stroke of his tongue, each graze of his teeth sent shudders of pleasure through me.
His blood heightened my senses, but this desire was more than the effects of a drug.
It had been building inside me since the moment we’d met.
I was falling for him. Completely. Undeniably. And I was done fighting it. He’d already ensnared me, pulling me into his orbit. All I could hope for was that I’d survive the flames.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, urging him closer as I nipped his lip with my teeth. “Is this where I’m supposed to beg you, Your Highness? Because I will.”
Lips curving, he pressed a trail of kisses along my neck, one hand tending to my breast, the other slipping to my bottom. “Where else do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere.”
He glanced down at me, arching one eyebrow.
I glared at him. “You know where.”
An amused grin curled his lips, and he unfastened the buttons on my trousers, pulling them down my hips before lifting me onto the edge of the bed, removing my boots, and then yanking the bloodied fabric off. His gaze trailed down my nakedness to the cream silk undershorts, and he cursed.
“You will always be in control, and I’ll stop at your command, but damn if I don’t want to bury myself inside you right now.”
I grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled him between my legs, eager for him to do just that. “Then do it,” I begged. “I want you.”
“Not yet. You’re not ready for me.”
His concern for me, the gentleness of his touch, contrasted with the hunger etched on his face and coiled in every muscle. I saw the struggle, and it only drew my heart further into his grasp.
Liquid heat pooled between my thighs, and the desperate ache at my core spread with each tortuous second that passed.
I dragged my hands over his chest, then threaded my arms around his neck, and let him lift me against him, the bare silk undershorts offering little barrier between my heat and his skin.
He cursed again and kissed me, slowly and reverently. The gentleness of it stole my breath and left me trembling with something deeper than desire. Trepidation flashed through me, but I pushed it from my mind and swiped my tongue against his, the collision of heat and want sparking through me.
“I want to touch you, princess. To taste your heat,” he rasped.
“Please.”
Valen groaned into my mouth, his reverence morphing into something more desperate as he gripped my backside and pulled me against him. “I like it when you beg.”
The movement and hardness of him pressed into my aching need, sending me to the brink of madness.
“Don’t get used to it,” I said.
What was this fire that he’d lit inside of me?
Wild. Untamed. Hungry.
He grinned and slid his fingers under my thigh, dipping them through my wet folds, and I moaned.
“Princess,” he gritted out, his voice husky. “Is this all for me?”
A jolt of heat shot through me. “It’s all for you.”
I moved against him, the soft curves of my body molding into the muscled planes of his, all while his mouth claimed mine, demanding, devouring, pulling me deeper until there was no space separating us. It was like our bodies had found each other and could no longer stay apart.
His blood hummed beneath my skin, each beat of my heart spreading a thousand tiny fires that awoke a need so deep, so raw, I was an animal starved of sustenance. I needed Valen. I craved him. This hunger couldn’t be ignored.
My lips grew tender from his punishing kisses, my lungs aching for breath, but I’d sooner die than have him stop.
He growled and set me back down on the bed, then slowly slid my undershorts down, pushing my knees apart so my most intimate parts were on full display.
“Fuck,” he breathed, like it was a prayer.
The air in the room was cold, but the heat of his gaze left scorch marks across my bare skin. His eyes worshipped me, and rather than feel vulnerable or exposed, I felt powerful and wanted.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous,” he said, dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed. The sight of him—the dragon king—kneeling before me had my heart racing with danger and euphoria, like standing at the precipice of a cliff.
No one had ever looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
He gripped my hips and yanked me toward him so my bare behind was perched on the edge of the bed, my legs draped over his shoulders.
A low, hungry vibration built in his throat. “I’ve wanted this from the moment we first met.”
“So have I.” Anything else would be a lie.
The warmth of his breath, the caress of his lips across my inner thighs, sent shivers up my spine, every inch of me sparking with awareness, with anticipation.
His kisses were gentle, almost reverent, as he slowly edged closer to my core, and the thrill of it was almost enough to make me come undone.
“Oh, my gods.” I dug my fingers into the thick blanket when his mouth finally found me, my body jerking as his tongue slowly stroked up my center. Hot. Wet. And not enough.
“Godsdamned, you taste even sweeter than I imagined,” he said, his gravel voice grazing my flesh.
He took his time, circling and teasing and sucking until my need swelled to dizzying heights. I braced myself against the bed, my hips arching into him, desperate for more.
He rumbled against my center, his approval sending a rush of fire to my belly. He palmed my bottom as his kisses and strokes became hungrier, deeper, and faster, and Fates, the sight of him between my legs, watching me as he devoured me would be etched into my mind forever.
The sounds that escaped my throat became feral and unbidden, and all sense of dignity fell away as I twisted my fingers through his hair, guiding him deeper and harder as I bucked against him, chasing the building wave until it broke.
Everything broke at once, consuming and annihilating me. Shudders racked my body, and my breath slipped away, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
Valen didn’t move. He guided me down with soft kisses until the aftershocks of his magic subsided.
Not magic. This—whatever it was between us—was something else. Something that terrified me as much as it called to me.
It was like he’d broken and refashioned me, and now I was his.
I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.
He rose and lifted me onto the center of his bed, his hips settling between my thighs as he braced himself above me. “I might not let you out of my bedchamber for a week.”
I smiled up at him. “Then don’t.”
We lay there in silence for a moment as I drifted back down to this world.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low. “Where did you just go?”
I traced my fingertips across the scales of his mask. “You didn’t remove this when you jumped off the balcony. How are you still wearing it?”
His eyebrows lifted, and a cocky grin spread across his lips. “That is what you ask after you’ve come apart on my tongue?”
Hearing him say it aloud sent a delicious shiver through me, but I resisted the temptation because I wanted a truth from him. “It’s been nagging at me since you brought me back here.”
“You’re too clever for your own good.”
“And you’re avoiding my question.”
He absently twisted a strand of my hair between his fingertips, watching me with a look somewhere between wonder and amusement. “It’s magic. Locke fashioned it so I don’t have to remove it unless I choose to.”
Like the collar he’d fashioned for me. A knot rose in the back of my throat. I could almost understand why Valen had used it—hells, I’d almost killed him—but I’d never forgive Locke for fashioning the cursed thing.
“Why don’t you ever take it off?” I asked, my voice strained.
He was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching mine, before he spoke. “At first, it was to keep my identity hidden, but now, it’s been so long, I guess it’s become a part of me.”
I wanted him to remove it, to let the world see him for who he was, but I sensed that there was more to the mask than he was willing to share. Perhaps it was tied to the betrayal he felt toward his brother. The fact that he’d been abandoned and left for dead.
I didn’t press. Despite what we’d just shared, there was still a distance between us, a part of him that he kept locked away. I wondered if he’d ever let me in. Or if he even wanted to.
That was why I had to guard my heart against him.
He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me, slowly and sensually, the taste of me still on him.
His hardness pressed into me, and my hips instinctively arched as a building heat simmered low in my belly. All my questions fell away. My body felt spent, and yet I wanted more. I wanted Valen inside me. To feel him everywhere. I wanted to give him the release that he’d given me.
One of his hands slipped around my backside, cupping me as he rolled his hips against me, almost nothing between us now. His lips played across my shoulders, and his tongue promised wicked things.
I moaned and grasped at his pants, desperate to release him, to feel only smooth skin gliding against me.
The antechamber door crashed open in the room beyond.
My body seized, and the residual adrenaline from battle conjured half a dozen scenarios in my mind—it was Sarkis. One of his assassins. Someone hiding in plain sight…
I jerked up, channeling my magic into the bedroom door. Shut and lock!
It slammed closed and clicked as angry voices rose in the antechamber outside.
“He’s not here, my lord!” someone shouted.
“Yes, he fucking is,” Locke said, his voice growing nearer as footsteps rang against the floor. “I saw him arrive as I was returning.”
I fisted the blanket. Sarkis was dead. His men were all dead. We were safe.
“Are you okay?” Valen asked, his expression concerned.
I drew my legs to myself. “I’m fine.”
Was I?
I’d nearly died, then I’d had my world turned inside out.
A fist thudded against the bedroom door. “What the hell are you doing in there, Valen? Licking your wounds?”
He was licking something. My face reddened at the vulgar thought, my thought, by the gods, and I pulled the blanket around me, the mood absolutely and inevitably ruined.
Valen rose and glared at the door like a man ready to murder.
Perhaps he was.