Page 41

She wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted his lips on hers. And it seemed she wasn’t the only one with this want.

The past four months in Isluma had been so lonely?—

Anthea got on her tiptoes, placing a palm on his broad chest, reaching out with her other hand. She threaded her fingers through his red locks. They were as soft as she thought they would be. Anthea cradled the back of his head, and pulled.

He complied, leaning down.

She brushed her lips against his.

A gasp escaped her as Endreth reacted. He pulled her closer, closing the gap between them, taking control.

She had missed this, the closeness, the warmth of another against her. She hadn’t even realized how empty she had felt while at the Crimson court, how starved for the touch of another.

Endreth explored her mouth with his tongue as he guided her toward the bed.

All her senses tuned in to him, his taste, his hand gripping her ass. He lifted her then?—

And her back met the softness of the bed, him hovering above her. His knee nestled between her legs, hiking up her nightdress. He broke the kiss, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

Eyes dark with desire, he asked, “Is this . . . are you certain?”

Anthea couldn’t help but smile. “I want this.”

His eyes still held a hint of a question in the sea of desire.

“I’ll tap three times if I want you to stop,” she reassured him, her hand moving to cradle his cheek. “But it’s unlikely that I will.”

“Three taps,” the elven prince confirmed. “If it’s too much, you’ll let me know, and I’ll stop.” There was a promise in his voice, one she knew he intended to keep. It was strange, the way her heart fluttered at his assurance, her eyes reflecting the trust she had come to place in him.

He took both of her hands in his, guiding them up above her head, pinning them against the soft cushioning of the bed, trapping her. It was thrilling?—

His free hand traveled a slow and torturous trail down her body. He paused on her breast, palming it, flicking a thumb against her nipple. A gasp escaped her parted lips and he grinned. Anthea bit her lip, wrapping her legs behind his back, pulling him closer, bucking up her hips from the bed.

He grinned wider as his hand pushed her hips back down. “Patience,” he murmured as he hitched her nightdress further up, his fingers tracing up her inner thigh.

She was about to protest his slow approach when Endreth’s mouth found hers again, the kiss deeper, more demanding. Anthea moaned into his mouth, his fingers had reached her core, exploring her eagerly. He smiled against her lips as another moan slipped out, her back arching off the bed. He had found her most sensitive spot and lingered there, teasing her. His fingers were dexterous, knowing exactly where to touch.

Endreth removed his mouth from hers, and watched her face as he entered a single finger into her. “So wet,” he breathed. “I think that means you are ready for me.” Anthea nodded, swallowing hard. Every inch of her body buzzed with a newfound sense of awareness, a keen sense of desire that grew with every passing moment.

He released her then, removed his hand from her nether lips, and unlaced the front of his pants while keeping his eyes on hers. She glanced down, watched him take his considerable length out, watched him give a few slow pumps to the hardness in his enclosed fist. A small fire coiled inside of her, burning hot and bright.

“Do you want to tap out?”

Anthea shook her head, “I . . . I want to . . . please just continue.”

Endreth’s smile turned feral.

She gasped as he plunged two of his fingers inside of her, opening her up, preparing her. He swallowed her moans with another kiss as he curled his fingers, finding a spot that made her buck her hips, that made her toes curl. She wanted, needed more. He continued like this, teasing, stretching, until she was sure he would drive her mad with need. Then, he removed his hand.

“More . . . I need?—”

With a swiftness that left her breathless, Endreth was inside her, filling her completely.

She could only gasp, clutching at the white fabric of his blouse as he moved, slow and careful at first, but soon giving way to an urgent and hungry pace. His hands gripped her hips, her thighs, pulling her closer, deeper onto him.

Anthea moaned; high-pitched sounds reverberated in the small cabin.

“You are going to wake the whole crew like this,” he teased, his voice a low murmur. Her body reacted to his every touch, every thrust, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity. He made her feel whole, not empty, not alone. Whole.