32. Soren
Chapter thirty-two
Soren
I’ve never craved anything as I do Enna. My forbidden, irresistible mystery. I can’t have her. Shouldn’t . Yet my desire for her consumes me with a raging fire. As crown prince, I shouldn’t want this feral little thing, this brutal fighting machine, the handmaid to my betrothed royal match. But the passion in my gut threatens to explode.
Her skin blooms under my touch, warm currents of her electricity rising to the surface beneath my hands as I trace the valley of her spine and the undersides of her thighs. Her breath hitches, and my control snaps.
Impulsively, I grab her, pressing her soft skin as I lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my hips, settling in perfectly, like she was made to fit here. Her bare breasts press against my chest, and she shivers as she brushes her hardening nipples, side to side, across my scales that gather on my sternum.
I groan, tucking my face into her neck, and thank the gods for Enna’s dislike of Coral fashion. My lips find her flesh, suckling, kissing, licking. I can’t get enough of her taste—this electric sweetness. Her claws slide through my hair, and I roll my hips into her. She whimpers in response, needy and desperate, the tension melting from her body in my embrace.
I lift my chin in time to see the pleasure flash in her eyes. Her mouth opens in a gasp, those wicked fangs glinting in the sun, stark white against the wet chasm of her throat.
Gods above.
I bite down on her collarbone, then smooth the spot with my tongue. She presses down harder on my cock, rocking her hips. But two can play that game. I flex my cock, stiffening under her as my balls tighten with need. She moans as she feels me grow beneath her.
“That’s it, Wicked,” I whisper, nipping her earlobe. “You want me too.”
She hisses, tilting her head back to expose more of her neck. “Pretend to know what I’m thinking one more time, pretty prince, and I’ll slit your throat.”
I walk her toward the rocks, my vision blurring as she runs her fingers through my hair. Claws on my scalp. Fingers on my neck. Twisting in my hair, yanking, demanding. Her lips find my forehead, decorating me with sweet yet urgent kisses. I duck behind the closest boulder and press her against its ledge. She squeezes her legs tighter, hands rushing to untie the strings of my pants and the belt of her loincloth. With one hand firmly on her tight ass, I slip out of my trousers, cock springing free, and I slide the fabric beneath her for a more comfortable seat on the rock.
She’s glorious. Her hair sticks out in its usual crazy angles, full of sand and reedgrass. Her lip pouts, glistening with want. And those eyes— gods, those eyes. Like two purple stars, brilliant in color against the pale white of her skin. She devours me with them, even as I’m devouring her, like she cannot get enough of me.
Her eyes trail down my chest, landing on my cock. Under her appraising gaze, it strains to its full length. She swallows, eyes widening, and I swell with male pride. Her cunt blooms before me, swollen and wet. My mouth waters, craving the taste of her, even as my hands flex, reaching, trailing my knuckle up through those slick folds. She trembles around me, and I nudge her swollen clit.
“Fuck,” she moans.
That dirty mouth needs to be punished. Right along with the rest of her.
I tuck my thumb inside her warmth as I weave my free hand into the hair at her neck and yank, tilting her face to meet mine. Her mouth parts, plump and ready for me. Her eyes darken with hunger.
I capture her lips. Her mouth is cool as the Abyss: ice to the heat that boils in my veins. Our lips move in a frenzied rhythm, and I slip my tongue between those deadly fangs.
My thumb flexes inside of her, massaging. She flexes around me, bucking her hips, breaking our kiss in a shuddering moan.
Her long, pointed claws dig into my shoulders, dragging me closer. The spines on her arms flex in and out as pricks of purple light flicker across her skin. I slip my thumb out of her and tug her closer, right where I need her. My cock slides against the wetness between her legs. She adjusts her position on the rock ledge, maneuvering to align herself.
Her eyes pop open, staring up at me with ecstasy. She slowly drags her sweet pussy along the hard length of my cock. “F- fuck,” she whimpers. “I’m going to—” The spines on her arms quiver with her effort.
I grab her chin, tilting her face to meet my gaze. “I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock.”
Her lip trembles, and she nods. I lift her higher, angling my cock to meet her entrance. She thrusts, dragging my tip through her wetness. Pleasure zings through me.
I’m not going to last long with her like this. Pressing through her opening, I sheathe myself inside her, and gods . She’s tight. The walls of her cunt ripple around me to accommodate my size.
I drink in the sight of her expression, the soft underside of her usual hard shell. Her cheeks flush with pink from heat and exertion. Her eyelids droop, then widen, as if she’s struggling to keep them in place. She throws her head back, eyes closing, and grips my arms with her claws.
“That’s my wicked girl,” I growl. Enna has shattered my control, taken it hostage. My body is her weapon, wielded for her pleasure. I have no choice but to rock into her, diving into her warmth.
My lips return to her neck, licking where her gills lay dormant beneath her skin. Her legs clamp around me. Her claws slide over my scalp, the soft pain pricking me to heightened awareness.
She shouldn’t turn me on so much—her spines, her fangs, her claws, signs of her hostile kingdom heritage should have sent me running back to my chamber. But they just make me want her more. I crave her danger like my gills crave the water.
I’m not going to last much longer. I slow my pace, moving in a deep, forceful rhythm.
“Look at me, Enna.”
Her eyes open, finding mine. “Yes,” she whispers.
I lean in closer, sucking her earlobe between my teeth. “Say my name. Tell me who’s fucking you good and deep.”
She rolls her hips, glancing away. I snarl, pounding into her, ramping my pace, as her warmth swallows me whole. I snake my arm between her back and the rock, cushioning her from the impact. She cannot escape me now. Pleasure builds deep in my stomach. Our skin slaps together, louder than the crashing waves.
“Say it,” I hiss. I need to hear my name on her lips.
“Say what, Your Highness?” She’s mocking me, even as I’m lost in her. Even as my spirit spirals boundlessly into oblivion, tethered to the sand by her alone.
I lean back, glaring at her as I withdraw my cock until just the tip remains inside. She wiggles, trying to lure me back in.
“Wrong answer, Wicked.”
Grasping my shaft, I drag the tip of my cock through her warmth, teasing her once again. Evidence of my own arousal seeps from the end, mixing with her slickness. I rub my cock against her clit. Her legs spasm around me, and she moans.
“Please,” she begs. “ Soren , please.”
“That’s better.”
I drive my cock home, slipping inside her easily, now. Her walls clamp down tight, hurtling me toward the peak of my pleasure. Enna shrieks as the orgasm rocks through her.
“Soren,” she screams again, the sweetest sound I’ve heard in my life. “ Soren! ”
I cannot contain my pleasure any longer. My balls squeeze, and I come. My seed spurts inside her in thick, hot streams, and her name repeats endlessly on my lips.
Enna yanks my hair, pulling me down for a deep kiss. Our tongues fight for territory as she claims my mouth and I hers. The tide batters against the rocks, a stray wave caressing the tops of my feet.
Someone’s throat clears on the other side of the rock. “Your Highness?” Hugo’s voice comes loudly.
I clamp a hand over Enna’s wet mouth to quiet her moans. Our eyes lock, hers suddenly full of fire. I raise an eyebrow in warning. She sinks her teeth into my hand, and I hiss in pain.
“Forgive me for interrupting your”—Hugo clears his throat again—“morning spar, but this cannot wait.”
Wicked removes her teeth, licking the remnants of my blood across those fangs. My beautiful monster. She plants her hand flat on my chest, drops her legs, and shoves me away, arranging her features back into her signature look of apathy. Her rejection stings worse than her spines.
“Wait,” I whisper, reaching for her arm.
Those spines flare, in warning this time, and the brightness in her eyes snuffs out. She takes a step away from me.
“I’ll find you later. At the ball tonight.” I step after her, and she lifts her chin defiantly.
“And what would the princess think?” She glances at my deflating cock, and I follow her gaze. My skin is slick with the evidence of her pleasure. She’s left her mark.
When I look up, she’s gone.
I sink against the rock, sucking in deep breaths to steady my pounding heart. I have no time to look for her, no matter how much each cell in my body screams at me to find her and claim her again. Even now, mere moments later, she slips out of my grasp.
“My prince, I implore you to answer me,” Hugo says, irritation straining his manners.
Gritting my teeth, I pull on my pants, adjust myself, and emerge from behind the rock. Hugo stands there, holding up my discarded shirt and trident. I take the shirt wordlessly, slipping my arms through the sleeves.
“Deepest apologies, Your Highness. Her Majesty insisted you see her right away. When you didn’t return from your sparring session with the captain on time, well…” He clucks his tongue, taking in my disheveled appearance.
I tie my shirt, then decide better of it, letting the material hang loose. Hugo lifts a quizzical brow.
“Her Majesty is impatient and should wait until breakfast to see me. As usual.”
“I’m only the messenger, Your Highness.” He turns toward the gate. “You’re lucky it was me and not someone with a higher propensity for gossip. The captain did not seem to know what I was talking about.”
I pray to the gods Nara will forgive me, but I don’t regret my choice. Not for a moment. I’d trade a thousand mornings in the ring to spar with Enna again.
We walk to the gate in silence, our irritation clashing between us like waves battering a stubborn cliff.
Hugo clears his throat again.
“Got something in your throat, Hugo?” I snap.
“No, Your Highness. Just wanted to say. Whoever it was with you behind the rock, I’d advise you to cut ties now. I have a feeling the princess doesn’t take kindly to competition.”
I rub the tightness in my chest, but the pressure refuses to dissipate. “What rock, Hugo?” I say. “You said you have no propensity for gossip.”
He chuckles. “Quite right, Your Highness.”
My stomach churns, flipping itself over again and again. I’m pissed. The fight, the magic, the sex—none of it eased my tension. None of it cured my want for Enna. I can still taste her on my lips. My hands tingle in the absence of her touch.
I may never want to be cured of her.