CHAPTER TWENTY
WINTER
The first thing Winter saw when he woke was the beautiful woman curled up on the bed beside him. Sterling. His mate. Her short hair was mussed around her face, her lips parted with gentle breaths, and she appeared softer when she slept. The prince’s heart accelerated as he studied her features.
Even her jagged scars were perfect.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, Winter settled onto his side and inched closer.
He resisted the urge to reach out and caress her skin.
This was too new for that. While they’d fucked the night before, she might not welcome his touch this morning—even if it was only to brush away the lock of hair clinging to her long eyelashes.
He’d lost his virginity to her in front of the pack, bound himself to her forever.
But maybe she’d simply been caught in the moment and would regret it today.
She’d taken pity on him by riding him instead of simply spreading her legs and allowing him to perform the task.
Once he’d admitted his fears, she could’ve made the entire situation worse by refusing to enjoy his cock to embarrass him further.
“I can feel you watching me,” she whispered in a sleep-filled voice.
A smirk spread across Winter’s face. “As your mate, I’m allowed to look at you.”
“It’s unsettling,” she drawled without opening her eyes.
No, what was unsettling was that he hadn’t realized she was awake. Did that mean she was comfortable around him to appear so relaxed? He surveyed her, searching for any body language that would indicate that was untrue, discovering none.
So he let his gaze linger on her curves. The fur blankets dipped and hugged her figure in a way that made his hot blood thrum. “I like seeing you in my bed,” he told her before he could stop himself.
Sterling stared at him for a moment, almost seeming to wait for him to add something negative to the end of his statement before finally smiling. “It is a rather comfortable bed.”
“As comfortable as my bed at the manor?” he purred, shifting closer, his gaze trailing down to her chest beneath the blanket.
She fidgeted as if testing the bedding. “It’s too similar to be sure.”
“I suppose we’ll have to fuck again when we return home.
As a test, of course, to see which you prefer.
” He hadn’t been able to get the image of Sterling touching herself in his bed out of his mind since she’d confessed it to him.
His mind ran wild with how she would’ve looked as her body quaked, as her breaths came out ragged through pouty lips.
No one around, completely free. Would her head have fallen back with her final moan?
“I’m sure we’ll fuck plenty of times in your manor now that we’re mated.”
He gave a slight shrug, though hearing her say that eased any lingering doubt from his mind. “Why wait? You could touch yourself now, like you did in my bed.”
Sterling bit her bottom lip, and, ever so slowly, her hand reached beneath the fur covers.
She rolled to her back and opened her legs.
The prince wanted to rip away the blanket so he could watch her fingers slide through her folds to enter her warm heat, circle her bundle of nerves, until she came apart.
But he remained still. Winter barely breathed as he watched her pleasure herself. Her chest rose and fell under the furs, her lips parted with bliss. She arched her back slightly, eyes closed, and her hand moved faster.
Winter took her chin and turned her head toward him. “Look at me when you come,” he ordered, his tone rough with desire.
Sterling’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze, eliciting a low pleasurable moan from her. He released her chin but not her stare as she worked herself. When her legs opened wider, her thigh brushed against his hard length.
A small smirk played on her lips as she slid her other hand across the sheets toward his cock.
Winter caught her wrist. “Later.” When she opened her mouth to object, he swooped in and kissed her fiercely. Their tongues moved together, giving and taking, wickedly brutal and delicious, as his blood grew hotter, his lust consuming him.
“Wait.” He snatched her wrist, keeping her from finishing.
“Why?” she asked, blinking, her voice breathy.
“Tit for tat,” was all he said before shifting down the bed, tugging the blanket from her, and releasing her wrist so he could grab her thighs instead.
Positioning his face between them, he impishly ran his tongue along her entrance, pulling a gasp from her.
“Straddle my face,” he ground out, lying beside her.
Sterling grinned and leaned up on her elbows. “Oh, have you grown bold overnight?”
“Very much so,” he purred. “Face the footboard.” Winter gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, as she shifted on the bed.
A moment later, her cunt hovered over his lips.
He released himself and grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into soft flesh.
“Do whatever you’d like with my cock. Suck it. Lick it. I don’t give a fuck.”
Before waiting for her to obey, he dove into her folds with his tongue, lapping up her flavors. She moaned and attempted to grind against him for more friction but stopped when he released her just long enough to give her thigh a soft slap.
She held still then, except for the movements required to cater to his hard length. Sterling circled the tip with her lips and released him while he worked her clit. She ran her tongue over his member, mirroring his movements, until he thrust upward in a silent plea for more.
Sterling took him down to the base and Winter repaid her by doubling down his efforts. He slid a hand between them and rubbed her clit as he swirled his tongue. Muffled sounds of pleasure poured out from her.
Soon, one of her hands cupped his balls and squeezed. Winter nearly came from it, but she would finish first if it drove him mad.
And then she moaned around his length, her legs shaking on either side of his head as she climaxed against his mouth.
Her euphoria coated his tongue, driving Winter to the edge of his own pleasure.
He jerked his hips up slightly and groaned when he came.
His vision dimmed from the force of it, and she gently lifted off him, her breath ragged.
Winter considered laying there long enough to get a second wind. Then roll her over and fuck her into oblivion. Instead, he had a different plan. For now.
He stood and grabbed a pair of trousers off the back of a chair. “Get dressed. I have a present for you.”
“What?” She sat up, the sight of her breasts nearly making him change his mind and crawl back into bed with her. “What kind of present?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her and raised a brow. “Don’t ruin my fun.”
Sterling rolled her eyes, but he caught the smirk on her lips before tugging on a shirt.
Winter settled into the cushions of the carriage, his thigh resting against Sterling’s. She wore a pair of the finest brown leather trousers and a cream tunic embroidered around the collar, but all he could think about was what she looked like with nothing on at all.
“Are we returning to the manor?” Sterling asked, breaking the silence. “This is the road that leads to town…”
“Is it?” He moistened his lip with a grin and glanced out the window. They were close now, the manor just around the next bend.
Sterling heaved a sigh. “Thank the gods. I never want to step foot in that castle again.”
“And you won’t,” he paused. “For the next few hours anyway.”
“We have to go back? Why?” She scowled, her nose scrunched. “Cyan is still here, so why can’t I just stay with him?”
He didn’t dare look at her to see the same loathing he felt. There was nowhere else in all of Grimm that he hated more. “My father expects us to return before dinner.”
“Shouldn’t we have some alone time? Being newly mated and all,” she grumbled.
“The king had us mate to help relations between wolves and humans. He won’t let us disappear before we’ve done that.
” If ever… It was an open-ended goal. What specific improvements was his father hoping for?
Not that it fucking mattered—the endpoint would just keep moving further away.
Whatever goal was set, Winter and Sterling would reach it, only to be given another. Then another and another.
Sterling crossed her arms and peered out the window as the driver stopped the horses just outside the manor. “How is your father planning for us to do that?”
“With your charming personality,” he quipped and exited the carriage. Fresh, crisp autumn air surrounded him. He dragged in a deeper breath, savoring the woodsy scent, so different than the staleness that lingered in the castle.
“And your lovely personality.” She hurried next to him. “Do you really think that marrying one another will make them forgive everything? You’re the Prince of Carnage, and I’m Red Riding Hood.”
“Mate,” he corrected. “And besides, maybe I’m the wicked prince with a secret heart of gold and you came to your senses.”
She scoffed. “No one will believe that.”
Winter cast her a long look. “It’s our duty to make them believe it, but that is the least of our concerns right now. Follow me.”
Curiosity shone in her expression as Sterling trudged behind him while he entered the manor.
He did his best not to react to the furniture being covered in white cloths.
When had the staff done this? He’d just visited and everything was as it had been.
It had to be because of his fucking father, and if Valco thought they were staying in the castle permanently, he was sorely mistaken.
They made their way up to the third floor, and Winter led Sterling to one of the doors furthest down the hall where Amalli stood outside Cyan’s room. He tilted his head in the direction of the door. “Go talk to your brother.”
“You brought me here to see Cyan?” Sterling looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes, and gave him a large smile. Akin to bright, beautiful moonlight.
A smile that hit his chest like an arrow.
“It was only a matter of time,” Winter said in a low voice.
“Now go, and we’ll discuss other matters later.
” He sauntered down the hallway away from her to let Sterling and her brother have a private reunion.
Even if they tried to run, they’d be caught.
Or … perhaps he wanted them to run. To find a better life somewhere away from his father’s fuckery.
But that wouldn’t be allowed under any circumstance. She was Bloodstorm’s princess now.
Winter entered his room and locked himself inside.
He stared at Sterling’s cage in the corner of his room.
It felt like years ago that he’d tracked her down after the hanging and discovered she was Red Riding Hood.
He’d locked her up for murdering his packmates, forced her to participate in games that nearly ended her life, and he’d enjoyed it …
mostly. What else should he have done? Ended her life right away, perhaps, but then he wouldn’t have gotten to know the girl beneath the red cloak, the girl he’d met years ago in the woods.
Like her. Maybe even loved her, if he were being honest. And, if it wasn’t love yet, he was standing on the edge of it.
Winter approached the bars and plucked the dangling key from the lock, then tucked it into his pocket. As he tossed his belongings into a large trunk, he thought of his father—the bastard couldn’t live forever.
If the king tried to harm Sterling, Winter would rip every bone from the bastard’s body.