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“I don’t care,” she gasped, her voice hitching as he hit just the right spot, sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. Her nails bit into his flesh through his blouse as she struggled to hold on, to remain grounded.

Endreth stilled inside her at her words, a dark promise in his eyes. “Remember, three taps, if it gets too much?—”

The stretch, the fullness, it was almost too much. Yet, the thought of tapping out, of putting an end to this intense feeling, was unthinkable. She wanted all of him, wanted to lose herself in him completely, wanted him to drive away the loneliness with each thrust. She nodded, and he moved again?—

His rhythm stayed consistent, his movements steady as he sought to bring her to the brink.

She felt him, every inch, every contour, with every thrust.

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her.

“Endreth—” Anthea’s cry was desperate, echoing in the small room. Her climax tore through her, sharp and all-consuming. Wave after wave—it washed over her, leaving her trembling, spent. She dug her fingers into Endreth’s shoulders as she clung to him, as though he was the only solid thing in a world rapidly spinning out of control.

She opened her eyes, her gaze landing on his face. Her breath hitched.

Control—she had none of it.

The elf was far from finished, his azure eyes ablaze with a wild, primal hunger that both excited and terrified her. He withdrew and turned her around with ease. Anthea’s palms met the linen sheets as he entered her again from behind, his thrusts deeper, more intense. She groaned, crying out his name once more, her fingers clawing at the bed as he moved within her, sending shockwaves through her core. She felt stretched, filled in a way she never had before, the new angle allowing him to reach places she didn’t even know could feel this way.

“I can’t . . . I can’t take much more,” she managed to stammer. The intensity was overwhelming, bordering on too much—but she didn’t want him to stop, she didn’t think she could make him stop, not now.

“Then tap three times,” he breathed into her ear. Endreth’s hand found her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat to his mouth. He kissed her there, his other hand venturing downward to tease her already sensitive clit.

She couldn’t contain the groans that escaped her lips, the sounds loud and raw as she gave herself over to him completely.

“Thea, I am right there with you,” he growled against her neck. “Come with me.” His thrusts becoming more desperate, more urgent as he neared his own release.

With a cry, she came again, her entire body shuddering with the force of it. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before, a pleasure so deep, so profound, it left her gasping for breath, her mind reeling.

Endreth’s release followed, a deep, guttural sound escaping his lips as he emptied himself into her. His grip on her hair tightening.

They collapsed together, breathless and spent.

Neither spoke.

Endreth withdrew from her slowly, the sensation marking the fact she was going to be sore tomorrow—she didn’t mind.

Anthea stole a glance at him. The prince was gazing at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in a slow, measured rhythm. Auburn hair splayed on the pillow beneath him, catching glimmers of moonlight that seeped in through the window. She searched his face, trying to see if he regretted any of it, but she couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t read him from the side.

After a long moment, he turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable. Raising a hand, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, feeling a little relieved. However, she couldn’t ignore a creeping sense of uncertainty. Their relationship had shifted drastically, and she had no idea where they stood now. Before she could voice her concerns, he spoke.

“I hope you know . . . this doesn’t change anything. Our paths remain the same.”

“I know,” she nodded, turning her back to him. She didn’t want him to see the hurt in her eyes.

Then she heard him move—felt him move closer to her, wrapping an arm securely around her waist. Endreth pulled her closer, nestling her body against his in a protective embrace.

The rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves, like a lullaby, soothed her frazzled nerves. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the warmth of his body.

He had said it changed nothing—but she wasn’t so sure.

20

Anthea awoke to the soft sway of the ship and the lively sounds of the crew at work outside the door. Sunlight spilled through the small window, warming the cabin and casting dancing shadows on the wooden floor. She sat up, stretching her limbs. The spot next to her was empty—the sheets slightly rumpled but devoid of Endreth’s presence.

For a moment, she let her eyes linger on the spot where he’d lain. She could still feel the heat of his touch on her skin, the firm press of his lips against hers, the stretch of him inside her. A blush crept up her neck as she pushed back the sheets, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. A twinge of soreness made her bite her lower lip. It had been exhilarating, amazing—better than anything Anthea had ever experienced. She could only imagine her sisters’ reactions if she’d had the chance to tell them about it. Ari would want to know details, and Treia would ask her if she had been careful?—