Page 34 of Nightingale (The Broken Kingdoms #1)

V rea heard her tent flap open, and heard the rustle of two pairs of legs as someone entered. She was bent over the work table, originally a dining table before she requested a map of Niroula. It arrived half an hour ago if the golden sand in the hourglass was any indication. She’d spent the last bit of time pouring over it, tracking their journey through the lands. They were making good time from the day they left, her path marked in triangular stones on the map.

“Princess.” Amir requested her focus, and after a second look at the distance left between the border of Niroula and Vasthold, she turned to see him.

Him, and Rian.

Who bore a cocky expression that annoyed her enough to have a quick dart of regret in staying by his side as he healed for four days. Now he stood before her, healthy as before and in perfect condition.

“Miss me?” He said by way of greeting, running a hand through his messy auburn hair.

“No,” She lied seamlessly. “Amir, leave us.”

The captain looked skeptical, scanning Rian from head to toe as if he were a slab of tied meat in preparation for roasting over the campfire. Knowing the sentry, it was definitely a possibility. She was honestly surprised that Rian wasn’t in chains.

“I do not think that is a wise suggestion.” He politely turned her down with a shake of his oval head. “I will remain until he is to leave.” His shoulders squared in a tell-tale way that informed Vrea that he was hard pressed to stay.

Rian snorted and inched towards her, “He’s been stuck to my side like glue. I’d happily remove him, if you’d only say the magical word.”

“Stop talking, Rian.” She cleared her throat and turned to her family friend. “Amir, I assure you that I’ll be fine on my own. He’s clearly in no shape to harm me, and if he does, then I’ll have him on his back in four seconds, like you taught me.”

“I will be outside.” He found a hint of delight in the way she snapped towards the Moordian heir, bowing his head and flipping around, exiting within five minutes.

“If you’re going to have me on my back, I have a certain way I’d prefer for it to happen.” Rian moved closer, casually bracing himself against the table as he peered down at the map.

“Of course you would.” She muttered, smacking his resting elbow off the counter and shooting him a warning look to behave, otherwise she’d kick him out.

Vrea paused, inhaling deeply as she tried to calm her racing heart. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been flailing around in the healer’s bed, screaming in pain as they tried to remove the bit of the Blackleg from his shoulder. So much so, that they’d had to pour the poppy juice down his throat in order to make any progress.

The healers had mashed poppy seeds and lavender oil into milk, forcing it down until he almost choked on the bitter liquid, coughing as they held his mouth closed in order to get the drugging medicine to work. After it had lulled him into a sleep, the healers cut open his wound on either side in order to remove the remainder of the shaft that was stuck inside of him. The part of the leg that held the numbing toxin, according to Amir.

They’d pulled it free, keeping it for later in case they needed to make an antidote from it. But it seemed to work, and the black veins that ran along his stab had slowly evaporated. For the next three days, the skilled healers had fed him chicken broth to increase his strength, water to help him stay in good shape, and his skin had returned to its rich russet shade.

Vrea had left once she’d been sure he’d survive, finding sleep in her own tent every night only to return with the dawn. It was her fault that he’d been hurt in the first place.

“How do you feel?” She asked, glancing towards the spot on his shoulder where the blood had poured like a pitcher of water. “You looked bad.”

“It felt bad.” He admitted, sighing and dropping the cocky act. “Thank you for not leaving me behind. I think dying by the Blacklegs would be a terrible way to go. You could have left me, you could have killed me, but you did neither and I appreciate that.”

“We made a deal.” She said as if it were nothing, as if she weren’t glad to see him standing before her, “You would take me home, and I wouldn’t kill you. Yet. ”

Vrea added the last part hastily.

“Either way, you saved me.” He shrugged, grimacing and rubbing at his pectoral with a slow caress that drew her focus to it and nothing else. He was sluggish with it, running it back and forth and all of a sudden, her mouth felt dry.

“You’ve saved me, a few times now.”

“I know. I tried to inform your towering guard-dog, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” Rian jerked his chin in Amir’s direction, who was standing out front by the tent flaps.

Vrea knew better than to assume that he was anywhere else, especially with Rian inside her tent. Everytime the wind jostled the tarp and she could see a bit of him now and then.

“But I think that makes it twice for you saving me, too. The bandits and now the spiders.” He ran his pointer finger around the continent on the parchment, tracing the drawn sand dunes, touching the flat castles and trees. “I’d say we’re even, but I know you better.”

“Do you?” She interrogated quietly, finding herself near him.

His breathing changed.

Hers did too.

“I’d like to think so.” Rian murmured, cerulean blue shifting towards a husky sapphire, dropping from her eyes to her mouth, where he remained.

“Tell me.” Vrea demanded. “Tell me what you know.”

The male obliged. “I know that you like to sing when it’s late at night, hence why my obnoxious brother calls you Nightingale.” He touched her arm, a whispering touch that hovered up her bicep, tracing over her shoulder and finding her collarbone. She exhaled, shivering, but not due to any cold. “I know that you prefer to sing without words, because you like the way it sounds. That you don’t like the way your lilting voice reflects the words instead of the sounds. Even if I find both breathtaking.”

Her mouth was incredibly dry.

She wasn’t sure when he’d heard her sing, but he wasn’t wrong about what he said. She didn’t like to sing the laments with words, but only sounds. It flowed better, lightened the air up, was haunting and melodic and perfect all in one.

“What else?”

Rian angled her around until her waist met the table, caressing her neck and following the columns of her throat up. “I know that you love your knives, so much so that they are one of your only prized possessions. That you missed them more than your family during your capture. I know that you thought you’d never see them again.”

She wanted him to tell her more.

To tell her everything.

“I know that you sleep deep, that thunderstorms bother you and you love them anyways. That you love the way the light crackles across the sky, or the rain that pelts the earth. I know that you love the way it smells afterwards.”

Vrea didn’t know how he knew that since they’d never experienced a storm together, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the upward trail his delicate finger was making.

“And?” She whispered as he found her chin, her cheek.

“And,” Rian said softly as he ran his thumb over her lips. They parted for him and he groaned as she licked his thumb with a quick flick. “I know the little noises you make when my fingers are inside of you. I know the moans you emit when I kiss you rough, hard. But I want to know more. I want to know how you’d cry out when I’m inside you. I want to know what you feel like while I fuck your mouth.”

There was a hot heat in between her legs, a wetness that pooled from her core as he murmured the sinful promises to her, at her, for her. She rubbed her thighs together in desperation for any sort of friction. Vrea bit her lip as he came down, stealing a breath.

“I think I’m going to find out, too.” He uttered.

Rian closed the distance.

She met him, surging up to wrap her legs around his hips as he kissed her. There was no time for gentle, no time for slow, passionate kisses.

This was not going to be making love.

She wanted him to fuck her like he hated her.

Rian seemed more than happy to oblige, striding to her bedroll and kneeling down, lowering her with it. She went to protest as he withdrew, only to tear his shirt off and find her once again.

His mouth was warm, hot even.

She wanted it everywhere, but there was time for that later. He growled against her lips and she returned it with a snarl that he chuckled at, hands roaming all over her small breasts, delving under the shirt and circling her peaked nipples. She gasped as he pinched them, twisting and turning in a circular motion though the cloth of her underthings.

Rian didn’t bother to remove her from her tunic, yanking up from the waistband of her pants, unearthing the cord that kept them on. He set it aside, in a place that she’d be able to find later. He wriggled the fabric and she lifted her hips to help him, earning a biting kiss in response as he freed her of them.

She was bare from the waist down and he didn’t remove his mouth from hers as he sank his hand towards her torso, tracing over her toned stomach and lower, lower until he arrived where she wanted him most.

Vrea groaned as he plunged a single finger in her, cursing at the wetness he found.

“Everytime I touch you, even so much as think about touching you, and you’re gods-damned soaked. ” He pushed out through clenched teeth, withdrawing and thrusting back in. “It’s almost like you think about this often, as if it turns you on to think about your enemy sinking into you.”

Vrea tried to keep quiet, tried to hold back.

He didn’t like that.

Rian removed his hand, leaning over her as he removed his boots, then his pants, at last standing bare before her. She swallowed, taking in his naked gloriousness, eyes guttering on what lay between his legs. He stroked himself once, twice, thrice before finding the bedroll once more and settling between her legs. She spread them even further for him, allowing him access with a silent plea in one.

“Fuck.” Rian swore, licking his lips at how she glistened for him. He brought the tip of himself towards her entrance and the probing feel was enough to make her burst into flames.

“Now,” She rasped, grabbing his hips and lowering him until he was flush against her. “I need you, now.”

“Well when you say it like that,” He trailed off and with a fluid motion, sank into her with a delicious pinch of pain and pleasure. Her mouth popped open and the Prince took that opportunity to close it with his own.

His tongue stroked hers, clashing against her teeth as he rammed into her, no slow pace to be found. She didn’t want it from him. She wanted the hard slam of his hips against hers, the pinch of her breasts and the roughness he’d promised her before.

Rian gave it all to her.

He was unhinged, grunted like a wild beast as he took her, over and over again. He held her firm, kissing her with a passion that could never be compared. He was fast fire against her, burning her until she felt like she would combust.

With every push and pull, he met her until he was fully seated inside of her. His pepper and smoke, mango twisted scent wrapped around her to the point where she couldn’t smell anything but him, and didn’t want to.

Vrea whimpered as the build began, as her finish teased her from a far off distance that was just outside of her grasp. He watched the way she threw her head back, panting as she tried desperately to follow it, as she chased it. Rian sped up, allowing her to, pleasure sparkling across her skin like silver and white stars that exploded in the midnight sky. She chased them all as her skin rippled, her breasts tightened and her lungs exploded. Even her heart pounded with a fast pace that she could barely follow with her breaths.

He groaned, the very end of him hitting the very back of her, and she was entirely filled. He fondled her breast, taking the nipple in his mouth and as he swirled his skillful tongue around the bud, she clamped down on him, burying her face into his shoulder as she whimpered his name. Fireworks skittered across her skin as she gasped, head spinning and reeling from the prolonged gap that she’d gone without sex.

It was a longer, more intense break than she’d experienced before, including riding her own hand.

Just as he liked.

Rian cursed again, bringing up the pace one last time as he tried to find his own pleasure, panting heavily as she rode out the last wrings of hers. When he came, he called out her name in return, something that made her feel complete, whole.

And with that joining, she understood that they’d crossed over a line that could never be uncrossed.