Chapter 33 #2
“No, Thea. You don’t understand, do you?” he says. He reaches for the side of my face, his long fingers twisting into the base of my loosened braid. He leans in, his eyes a raging firestorm, nothing but our mingled breath between us. “But—I need you to know where I stand.”
I must wear an unaffected look, because he sighs in frustration.
“Fuck the prophecy. Fuck fate. Let it be my fault it’s damned to the hells—I’ve lived under these expectations my entire life.
And for the first time, I want something for myself, not for this godsforsaken kingdom.
Thea, I want you. I need you to know that I would choose you.
I would forsake it all—watch it burn—for you. ”
“Truly?” I breathe. He nods, dragging me to the edge of the bed by my hips. He removes the last of my undergarments before I even realize. My head swims from his truth. He bends to kiss my neck feverishly, my chest, down my stomach, then—
I seize at the sensation of his quick breath at my core, his face between my thighs.
“Knowing this—do you want me to stop?” he asks, challenging me to deny him.
“Never,” I gasp. My whole body hums. He kisses the inside of my thighs—everywhere but the source of my now throbbing ache. Gently, he lifts my ankles to his shoulders, sliding his hand up the length of my leg back to my stomach.
“I think you know what I must hear, Thea,” he teases into sensitive skin. I emit a heavy sigh, and he nips at my inner thigh with his teeth. It sends a powerful, rippling shudder through me. Fucking bastard. I am completely under his control. So I submit—I will beg him to save me.
“Please—Brynn, please—I beg you, sav—”
His low exhale against me is tortuous, but he too gives in before I can even speak the words.
I cry out when his mouth claims me and his hands squeeze my waist in response.
With every deliberate move of his smart tongue, I am undone.
He meets each tilt of my hips with perfect, agonizing pressure.
My fingers twist in his hair and hold him there as I rise—my nerve endings lit in humming expectation.
He works me into a blind fury, and I beg him to never stop.
I have half a mind to command it using his true name.
I have never been so desperate for that wave.
I want to be taken under. I want to be lost in it. But I want him, too.
“Brynn—I want you,” I pant. The tingly combination of his soft groan against me and the hunger in his eyes when he meets my gaze nearly pushes me over the edge.
Not yet. I tug at his hair, his horns, pulling his mouth up to mine, tasting myself on his lips.
He removes his pants in one fluid motion, and I let out a low whimper.
He wastes no time. He’s pushing inside of me before I can even appreciate his naked form, and I bite down a yelp of buzzing pleasure.
My back arches, lifting me from the bed.
“Gods, you’re perfect, Thea,” he mutters, gripping my breasts with both hands.
I cannot speak. I’ve forgotten how. All I can do is roll into him, desperate to pull him ever closer, ever deeper.
Brynn stills, either measuring my silence or simply wanting to savor my tightness.
He leans over and kisses me—my forehead, the tip of my nose, my jaw, my neck.
I seize this opportunity to pull his body flush against mine, and once he gathers what I want, he rolls us over in one graceful motion.
Now he’s flat on his back and I am in control.
I sit back on him and revel in the pressure at my very center, the soft pulsing of our bond, the way his golden eyes feast on me.
His dazzling smile. I think of sparring in the Blackwoods and how he said it was a lovely angle.
I wonder what he thinks of it at present.
“Worth it,” he says as though reading my thoughts. There is no uncertainty on his face now. No contempt or confusion. Only reverence.
I start excruciatingly slow, relishing in the way he fills me up. I drag my fingernails along the muscles of his chest, his stomach, his hips. His warm hands explore my thighs, my waist, my ass with patient eagerness. He shudders beneath me when my pace quickens.
“Fuck, Thea,” he says, voice low. “I would do anything for you.”
I lean down and whisper into his mouth, “Then ruin me, Brynn.”
Now it’s Brynn who cannot speak. Our urgency—our need—cannot be contained.
He thrusts into me with such enthusiasm that I throw my head back and for a brief moment believe I’m seeing stars—before remembering the ceiling is made of glass and that these are in fact, real, beautiful stars.
I ride him until he repeats my name like a curse.
Like I am the one ruining him. He clutches my thighs so hard that I know they will bruise with his handprints.
Let them. I am his.
This thought should scare me. Instead, it frees me.
I welcome the oncoming wave with a cry of pleasure.
It crashes over me—rushing in, unrelenting and all-consuming—and I pull Brynn upright and level with me.
We steadfastly clutch each other—his face buried in my chest, my hands knotted in his hair—as the wave pulls us both under. I have never known release like this.
I am convinced I may never again.
When we come up for air, we are gasping and slick with sweat. He rests his ear against my chest, no doubt listening to my thunderous heart. His breathless chuckle rumbles through me.
“I will never tire of that,” Brynn says, moving to graze his lips along my breast. I quiver not only at the touch, but at the devotion in his voice. The promise.
“Making love? Or the way you’ve always influenced my heart to speed?” I jest. He laughs as he pulls me down onto the bed. I peel myself from him and we lie on our backs, staring at the night sky above. His warm hand rests on my naked thigh.
“Both,” he says, exhaling. “Though you once said it was fear.”
“I lied,” I admit. Though, maybe this too is a lie, because I do feel fear now. Fear that there’s no return from this. Fear of how much I do not want to return from this. Fear that I am about to lose it all. Fear that I can’t bear to lose him.
Brynn turns on his side to take me in and I mirror him. That sentient faerielight allowed us to see each other during our exploration, but now that we’re both lying down, it has faded to a soft glow. I rest my hand against his jaw, and he kisses my wrist.
“Must we go back out there?”
“We didn’t even get to dance,” he says with a smirk. “Though I must confess—this is better than any ball I’ve ever attended.”
“Don’t you want to meet with High Mage Frigo?” I ask.
“Only if you do,” he murmurs, his honey eyes probing my face. “I personally don’t mind if we’re bound together forever. It sounds rather nice—being stuck with you.”
“But Jasmeen needs to speak with him, too—”
“Glo will ensure they meet,” Brynn says with a small smile. His fingers trace the bruise on my side. “She may want Jas’s freedom even more than you do.”
“Good,” I say, relieved. His hand stills. I already feel him slipping away. Withdrawing. Recalling that I am a girl with secrets. I drag my thumb along his chin. “I—I want to stay here. With you.”
Brynn brushes my wild hair out of my face. “Good. I’m not sure I can redress you as before. Taking a corset off is one thing—”
“What about the prophecy?” I blurt, unable to stop myself.
“What about it?” he asks, frowning slightly.
“You love your kingdom—you would truly sacrifice that… for this?”
A curious expression lights Brynn’s face. My hand moves down to his chest, and he holds it there. His heartbeat is steady, sure. “The hierarchy has cracks, faults—my father and brother have no idea how many dimiblood call Sanctuary home. They have never bothered to know their subjects.”
I remain quiet, studying his face.
“Why shouldn’t I get the chance to chase what I want?
I will not allow my life to slip through their fingers.
So much of it has already been sacrificed to gain the favor of a father who cannot see his own shortcomings.
To ready a wicked brother for a throne he has no right to claim.
Those cracks will only grow—they cannot be mended.
It will inevitably collapse in on itself, with or without my help. ”
He bites his lip, contemplating on continuing.
“So, when you ask if I would sacrifice that for this…” He slides his hand to the side of my neck. “The answer is yes—because it is not my kingdom. It never has been. And perhaps it’s best that it is destroyed, so that Sanctuary can be rebuilt anew—into the haven it should be.”
“Perhaps you must destroy it to reclaim it,” I say thoughtfully.
How could there ever be someone more worthy of ruling Sanctuary than Brynn?
If I am forced to be queen, I hope to be half as good as him.
To care about my kingdom even a fraction of what he cares for Sanctuary.
His curious eyes study me, like I’ve said something profound.
“Perhaps,” he says, a tender smile returning. “But I would sacrifice that—my title, and far more—for this. For you. You need not ask. It is my choice. Perhaps the first true choice I have ever made. And I would make it again—fates be damned. I would choose you still.”
I press my lips to his because I cannot respond. Because no matter how much I may want to, I cannot promise him anything.
I am selfish. So fucking selfish. I tighten my grip on something that does not belong to me.
That I do not deserve. That I never will.
Even if I had been honest with Brynn from the start—I could never warrant his adoration.
His selflessness. He is too good for me. He knows I’m withholding information.
But maybe he can be equally as selfish. He deserves to be so. Perhaps he’s holding on to tonight, too.
His fingers slowly slide down my body, lingering in sensitive spots, trailing along my hip.
The farther they travel, the more urgent the kiss becomes.
Soon enough I am clinging to his neck, panting, as his skillful fingers bury deep between my thighs.
He walks me into another wave, and I savor being lost. Lost in him.
If only it could make me forget who I am and what I have done—what I have possibly destroyed—for good.