Page 4 of Maneater

“Odessa,” came the prince’s voice from the chamber ahead.

I nearly rolled my eyes at the sound. It appeared that the heir had finally chosen to summon me.

With his approval, I moved forward, shoulders straight, chin lifted.

As his favored consort, I was expected to look perfect.

Anything less was unacceptable. My plum-colored robe trailed behind me, the crimson tassel swaying at my hip.

I couldn’t say exactly when things began to shift between the prince and me.

My contract had named me as little more than a source of pleasure for the Crown.

But over time, my encounters with him grew more personal.

He had become more at ease around me, more open.

Whether he intended it or not, a kind of bond had formed, however warped its foundation.

I knew that if I wanted any control over my future, I’d have to take it myself.

So I did.

I found that seduction was equally as simple as it was sophisticated.

My time within Hyrall’s castle walls has taught me one thing: men like the heir love to believe in their own complexity. They speak of layered thoughts and deep emotion, but I’ve found them anything but. Privilege makes them simple, predictable, and remarkably easy to manipulate.

If nothing else, Hyrall would never run short of fools.

I moved down the hallway with soft steps, each one designed to build the prince’s anticipation.

The firelight ahead grew brighter, and the warmth of the hearth spilled into the corridor.

Just before stepping inside, I adjusted my smile into something soft, obedient.

Once everything was in place, I crossed the threshold with practiced grace.

At once, my eyes went to the prince.

He stood on the balcony, staring out at the cool night sky, a golden goblet in hand. I could only guess it held the finest wine gold could buy. Sometimes, I wondered if my father had traded his stale ale for something more refined after selling me off. The gods know my body earned every last coin.

At the sound of my approach, the prince turned and met my eyes. Without looking away, he raised the goblet and emptied it in a single swallow. I dipped into a graceful curtsy, head bowed.

Tonight, his auburn hair fell just above his brow. He wore only a simple white tunic and trousers, none of the elaborate regalia he favored by day.

“Odessa.” He savored my name.

“Your Highness,” I replied.

“I have a gift for you,” he said, gesturing toward a large box on the table. It was wrapped with a silk ribbon. His tone held an expectant note, waiting for a reaction.

Another robe , I mused to myself.

“I’m honored to receive another gift so soon, Highness.”

“Open it,” he said.

I walked to the box and untied the ribbon. Inside, folded beneath the lid, was a sheer silk robe, soft cream, with floral patterns woven in gold thread. It was exquisite.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“I’d like you to wear it tonight, Odessa.”

“Of course. Whatever you desire.”

Dutifully, I began to undress.

I reached for the silk clasp at my waist, but the prince shook his head, signaling me to stop. His amber eyes locked onto mine as he approached, towering over me by a full head. Gently, he took my hands and guided them back to my sides.

I remained still as he reached down to gather the string of my robe. I didn’t miss the brush of his hand along the side of my breast as he did so.

He slipped the tie free, then reached for the crimson tassel at my waist, letting it rest in his palm. A faint smile tugged at his lips with satisfaction, possession.

In Hyrall, the crimson tassel marked a consort or courtesan summoned to service.

I watched as the cords slipped through his fingers.

While other courtesans considered the crimson tassel a mark of pride, I saw it as a stain on my waist.

“Do you know why I chose to gift you another one so soon?” the prince asked casually, his fingers idly toying with the tassel at my waist.

“You were pleased with my last performance, Your Highness.”

With a playful click of his tongue, he began unfastening the gold chain from my waist.

“Today is a special day, Odessa. It marks one year since you began serving me in Hyrall.”

I smiled, masking the tight knot forming in my stomach. “Of course, how could I forget?”

The prince’s eyes gleamed as he cupped my chin with a possessive touch, drawing me in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, lingering briefly before parting. As he held my face, he traced my lips with his thumb.

“You are mine, Odessa.”

“Yes.” I lowered my gaze to his lips, eyes half-lidded.

The gold chain at my waist came undone with a faint clink as the prince tossed it onto a nearby chaise.

He began unfastening the remaining closures of my robe, each string falling away until the plum-colored fabric hung open.

With a wandering hand, he brushed it off one shoulder, letting it flutter to the floor.

Mesmerized, he inhaled sharply, his gaze lingering on my bare body.

He approached slowly, his face nearly brushing mine, though he kept his composure.

Our eyes remained locked as he reached behind me, his breath warm against my skin, and gathered the newly gifted robe in his hands.

The cream-colored silk draped gracefully as he unfolded it.

With a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he guided one arm into the robe, then the other.

As the robe settled around me, he secured the laces at my waist. I paused, studying his hands, my lip caught between my teeth as my eyes followed the line of his arms to his sculpted chest. Beneath the white tunic was a layer of lean muscle, exactly to my liking.

The prince’s eyes were locked on my breasts, desire radiating off him.

Through the sheer fabric, the peaks of my breasts stiffened.

At the sight, his eyes darkened, and he lifted a hand to graze it.

I quivered at the touch, and he smiled as he noticed.

Palming my aching chest, a breathy moan escaped me, and it only made him more unchaste, his jaw tightening with restraint.

He gripped my waist with his free hand and drew me closer.

The prince’s lips claimed mine as his finger circled the bud of my breast, then pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. With pressure, he squeezed, and another moan slipped from me. I could feel myself growing slick, and in return, feel the hard press of his length against my navel.

Reflexively, I started to reach for him, but he caught my wrist and held it in place.

“Not yet, Odessa,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled back.

My breaths came shallow. “As you wish, Gadriel.”

Hearing his name on my lips only deepened his hunger. He had confessed more than once how he relished it, how my voice seemed to carry his name like a whisper drawn out.

He loved the way I said it. Moaned it. Breathed it.

I suppose it gave him a sense of power, to feel so deeply desired. That was precisely why I gave him just enough to believe it. It made him arrogant. It made him reckless.

I looked up at him, my lips still parted. Seeing that look in my eyes, Gadriel crushed his mouth to mine. In three swift strides, he had me pinned against the wall with one arm, both wrists locked above my head in his grip.

“Tell me what you want, Odessa,” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm as he kissed the edge of it.

Gadriel was an excellent lover, that I can attest. My body was reeling from the yearning.

I wanted his hands on me, I needed it. Gadriel and I had spent every night together for the last year learning one another’s sensual hungers and thirsts.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Gadriel knew my carnalities just as well as I knew his.

I nearly writhed as he pressed his body against mine, leaving me no choice but to feel just how much he wanted me.

“Please…”

Gadriel drew in a breath and whispered, “Please what, Odessa?”

He pressed himself firmly against me.

“I need you,” I breathed, feeling him smile against my ear.

One of his hands still pinned my wrists to the wall while the other trailed up my waist, gliding around the curve of my breast. He slipped his hand beneath the robe, grasping it in his palm, and began circling the peak with his thumb in slow, sensual motions.

He began kissing down my throat, hunger in every press of his mouth.

“You taste like sin and silk,” he murmured.

His grip tightened as he held me, and my breath hitched with pleasure. My lips searched for his, but he pulled away before I could reach him.

“Not yet,” Gadriel chastised, low and amused. “I still have things I want to touch.”

I parted my lips as his eyes swept over me. The cream-colored robe had slipped loose at my chest, undone by his hand. He leaned down to kiss me again, and I tilted my mouth toward his, only for him to withdraw once more, teasing.

“You’re impatient tonight, Odessa,” Gadriel tutted.

His fingers drifted down my waist, brushing aside a fold of silk. My knees threatened to give as he traced along the curve of my thigh, stopping just shy of where I ached for him. He leaned down to press a kiss against my chest, and my back arched in response.

“You certainly are insatiable,” he whispered.

Then, without warning, he slid a finger inside me and I gasped. Gadriel groaned, his mouth claiming the peak of my breast as he flicked it with his tongue. My body began to writhe, and he pressed me harder into the wall to keep me still.

He used his knee to part my legs, kissing me deeply as his fingers worked in steady rhythm. I could only moan, helpless to stop the sharp pull of release building inside me.

Gadriel knew the patterns of my release well, and he sensed how close I was, just seconds from the edge. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace, and the world slipped into white as I unraveled.

A cry tore from my lips as my hips trembled beneath him, wetness spilling over his hand .