Page 5 of Maneater

He didn’t give me a moment to recover. Instead, he silenced my moan with a kiss, his fingers moving lower to find the tender crest between my thighs. The sensation jolted through me, too much, too soon, and my knees buckled, held upright only by the strength of his chest.

Still, he kept going, circling with relentless intent. Heat bloomed again, smoldering to life inside me, and I begged for more as his fingers worked faster, more urgently.

I felt my hips tremble, my legs unsteady, as Gadriel coaxed another release from me. He only grinned, his fingers slick with my pleasure. I slumped forward, unable to hold myself upright, but he caught me easily, keeping me steady as he basked in my unraveling.

With a surprising tenderness, he leaned in to kiss me, then wrapped my legs around his waist. I folded my thighs around him as best I could, while his hands gripped the curve of my backside and lifted me into his arms.

He carried me to the bed and laid me at its center, settling above me as he pulled off his tunic. My eyes traveled over his torso, and I reached for the waistband of his trousers. This time, he didn’t stop me.

Gadriel looked down at me, eyes dark with desire, as my fingers moved to unfasten his belt. I undid the clasp and helped slide the fabric down to his thighs.

I sat up slightly and wrapped my fingers around him gently. Gadriel groaned as I began to stroke him, slow and steady, my grip firm but controlled. His back arched, and he leaned forward, bracing himself with both arms.

I reclined into the mattress, letting it support me as I increased my rhythm, guided by his reactions. By every subtle shift in his breath, every shudder of pleasure.

Just as he delighted in my responses to his touch, I too relished the quiet power in this. Watching him unravel beneath my hands, made helpless by the sensual hold I had over him .

For a moment, I nearly reached for his shoulders, ready to draw him down to my lips, to straddle him and take what I wanted, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t move on desire alone.

I had to remember what this was. A contract. A performance. One I was expected to deliver with precision.

My desires had to be whatever the prince’s were. And Gadriel favored subservience.

I hadn’t become his favored consort by chance. Every expression I wore, every word I spoke, every motion I made was deliberate, crafted to secure my place. Each night, I performed to ensure he would choose me again the next day.

Above me, Gadriel was still groaning with pleasure, but as I shifted my hips, his attention dipped to the warmth waiting between my thighs.

At the sight of it, he became undone.

He shed the last of his trousers and positioned himself over me. His lips crashed into mine before he pulled back, lowering himself just enough to glide the head of his length along my slickness, taunting me.

My hips lifted, aching for him, but his hands held them down with possessive force. His amber eyes had gone dark, consumed by hunger.

“Gadriel,” I begged, breathless.

At the sound of my voice, he pushed into me with a single, commanding thrust, and I cried out as he filled me, stretching me with his length. Gadriel growled low in his throat, capturing my lips and tongue in a hungry kiss.

His movements deepened with urgency, each stroke unrelenting, carnal.

My body ached under his touch, craved the rhythm, the friction, the heat of him.

His mouth left mine and traveled lower, finding the swell of my chest, where he sucked with rising hunger.

I clung to his back, digging my fingers into his shoulder blades, desperate for him to stay with me, to not stop.

Sensing the desperation in my touch, he quickened his pace, driving into me with rhythmic force, matching my body’s every silent plea.

“Gadriel…” I gasped, my voice trembling.

“Odessa,” he breathed in return.

His breath turned ragged as his hands roamed over me, clutching with abandon. The hunger in him was growing wild, and I could feel it in every deep, claiming thrust.

His pace didn’t falter as he kissed me filthily.

I felt the shift in him, the way he swelled inside me, and knew he was nearing release. I tilted my face toward his, moaning softly as our eyes locked. He held my gaze, breath ragged, expression raw with desire.

With one hand, he gripped my throat, cradling my jaw with rough tenderness as his movements grew harder, more desperate. I bit my lip, and my moans stilled into a quiet tremor.

Then, with one final thrust, Gadriel spilled into me, his release overtaking him just as my own broke through. I cried out his name, my body shuddering with the last wave of pleasure.

Above me, Gadriel hovered, his skin slick with sweat, his chest heaving as he stared down at me. He watched in silence as the tremble in my hips slowly subsided.

Flushed and breathless, I turned my face away, the faintest hint of a blush rising to my cheeks.

It drew a grin from Gadriel, and he reached over to turn my chin gently back toward him. He kissed me again. This time, slower, softer than before. With a quiet sigh, he dropped onto the bed beside me, folding his hands behind his head.

I took my opportunity, resting my cheek against his chest. He let me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Only recently had Gadriel allowed me to touch him with anything resembling intimacy. And by intimacy, I meant trust.

When I first began my service to him, he’d been cold, aloof, almost untouchable. Our earliest encounters were purely transactional. The nights we shared were for release, nothing more. Once his desire was spent, I was dismissed without ceremony.

I was once only permitted to address him by title, or use royal honoraries during my service. That changed the night I dared to speak his first name aloud.

I was dreadstricken the first time I said it. Gadriel stopped everything, cut me off mid-act and sent me away without a word.

The following night, I convinced him it had been a slip, a moment of clouded judgment brought on by the pleasure he’d given me.

Naturally, he accepted the explanation. It was flattering enough to soothe his ego.

After that, the rules shifted. Within the walls of his chamber, I could call him by name if I wished. I could lie in his arms and trace slow, idle circles against his chest long after his desire had been spent.

My attempts to get closer to Gadriel gradually wore down his stoic exterior over the year we spent together. Trust, particularly its strongest form, is something that demands time. This painstaking process was necessary to achieving my goal.

As I lay in the crook of his arm, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breath, I pulled back my thoughts. When I glanced up, I saw his eyes were closed.

My brows lifted slightly. Gadriel was asleep.

Another measure of trust , I mused.

Another small victory.

But the feeling was short-lived. I reminded myself that no matter how far I’d come, my freedom was still not my own.