Chapter 7 #2
But in Viossi’s eyes, I was… someone worth caring for.
Someone she’d pray for, willing to give everything to save, even without expecting my love in return.
The realization chipped away at my defenses, like warm water melting ice.
My wolf stirred, restless, yearning to close the distance between us, to feel her warmth.
Without thinking, I reached out, my fingers grazing her cheek, her skin soft and warm beneath my touch.
Her lips parted, not in protest but in invitation. And something in me snapped.
Not the part ruled by the court or crown.
The part ruled by want. By instinct. By her.
I gripped her waist and spun her around so fast that the cake nearly tumbled from her hands.
A startled gasp slipped from her lips as her back hit the bed. The same bed that reeked of the same petals on her floor. And that scent? It was beginning to blur all my senses just like she did.
My princess clutched the plate to her chest, her breath quickening. I liked the gesture but needless to say, I didn’t care about the cake now that I was looking into her eyes.
“I told myself coming here was out of duty,” I said, my voice low. “But then you brought me this.”
Her eyes flicked to the honey cake and then back to me. She opened her mouth to speak, maybe to apologize, but I shook my head slowly, all predator-like.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
She blinked. “It’s cake for your birthday—”
I cut her off. “It’s bait.”
Bait for me. Bait for the emotions that were slowly gravitating towards her. She had no clue, did she?
As if not listening to her pray for my well-being wasn’t enough, she had to bake for me. No, she had to learn to bake me my favorite cake.
I plucked the plate from her hands and set it aside, not before dipping a finger into the honey glaze. Then watching her, I slowly licked it clean. Her thighs pressed together. She watched my tongue like she wanted it on her skin and inside her pussy instead.
“Take off the dress,” I ordered, taking a step away from her to give her room.
She hesitated then obeyed. The gown slipped over her head, pooling on the bed like spilled ink. Underneath, she wore nothing, as if seeing her hadn’t already made my nerves go haywire.
I groaned a subtle ‘fuck’ underneath my breath. My cock pulsed. And my wolf? He howled.
I stalked toward her taking the plate by the bedside in hand with a million filthy thoughts burning through me. How good I knew she took my cock. How warm her heat felt. How feral she made me when she moaned. So many filthy thoughts.
“You prayed to save me,” I murmured, setting the cake beside her on the bed. “But little bird, I think you’ve doomed us both.”
I knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs with ease, revealing that glistening heat that had haunted my thoughts for too many damn nights.
She was already dripping, flushed and trembling, and the man in me that loved seeing her fall apart from her orgasm wanted to give her everything her pussy craved.
But not right now. Not yet.
I tore a chunk of the honey cake and placed it right on her belly, just above her navel. She gasped, arching slightly.
“Don’t move,” I said darkly.
Then I drizzled honey glaze from the cake on her navel.
It trickled slowly… winding down her stomach in golden ribbons… pooling in the soft dip of her skin and slipping lower, lower, toward where she was hot and desperate and begging to be fucked.
Her breath hitched. Her hands fisted the sheets. And I smiled.
Then I leaned down, and licked the honey straight from her pussy.
First the honey, slow and deep inside her tight channel. Then the cake, warm and sweet from her skin. She whimpered when my tongue dragged over her ribs when I bit the edge of her hip just to thank her for the delicious cake and the tantalizing taste of her pussy.
“I should thank the Moon Goddess,” I teased, “for making you mine.”
And then I went back lower.
I parted her with my fingers and buried my mouth between her thighs like she was the only thing that could ever satisfy me.
Like she was that drop of water I needed to quench my thirst. She cried out, her back arching as I licked up the trail of honey that had made it all the way down.
I circled her clit, then sucked it into my mouth until she sobbed my name.
“Perock—please—I—”
“Shh,” I murmured to her. “Let me worship you.”
I didn’t stop until she came undone, her legs clamping around my head, her body shaking, her fingers deep inside my hair.
And just when she thought it was over…
I rose above her, unbuckling my pants, palming my painfully hard length, and dragging the slick head of my cock between her wet folds. The image itself was enough to make me wanna burrow inside her forever.
“Now I’m going to fuck you with the taste of honey still on my tongue, princess.” And I did.
I pushed inside her, hitting her hilt before pulling back out and hitting the same spot that had her heels digging into my back.
And Viossi?
She anticipated every thrust. Every time I plunged inside her, so did her tits reach out to me for attention.
Every time she clamped around my cock so did the need for her to kiss me burn through her eyes.
And when she came, with me following her close behind, I groaned her name because she’d done more for me than any woman had.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silver glow across her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw.
I traced a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, my heart quieted by a peace I’d never known.
We lay there, side by side, the sound of our breathing filling the silence, a rhythm that felt almost sacred.
I watched her as she slept, her features softened, free of the tension she carried in waking hours. A tangle of emotions churned within me.
Several days ago, I’d seen her as a tool, a means to break my curse.
Now, I found myself noticing the way her smile lit her eyes, the way her voice steadied when she spoke to me, the way her touch lingered in my thoughts.
I wanted to know her—her fears, her dreams, the truth behind her borrowed face.
The shift unnerved me, a crack in the armor I’d worn for years, yet I couldn’t bring myself to seal it shut.
As dawn’s first light crept into the room, I slipped out quietly, careful not to wake her.
Before I left, I brought the remaining honey cake back to my study. The sweet, tempting aroma of the honey cake on my desk kept reminding me of that special night. I stared at it, my mind replaying her smile, her words, the way she’d looked at me—not as a prince or a monster, but as a man.
A knock at the door broke my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, schooling my expression into its usual mask.
Orin stepped inside. “Your Highness, His Majesty requests your presence at tomorrow’s banquet, along with the princess.”
I nodded, flipping through a report, my mind only half-present. “Inform my father we’ll attend.”
Orin hesitated, his jaw tightening, a rare sign of unease. “There’s something else you should know, Your Highness.”
I looked up, catching the tension in his eyes. “What is it?”
“Lady Sophia… will be attending the banquet with her husband.”