Page 112 of Wicked Prince of Frost

My eyes flutter closed, only to snap open when he grips my chin. I meet his gaze, dark and intense.

“Don’t look away,” he says. “I want to see how beautiful you are when you come for me.”

My breath hitches with every forceful, claiming thrust. His cock throbs as he pounds into me again and again, relentlessly pushing me further toward mindless ecstasy.

We lose ourselves in the slide of our slick flesh, the way we move together as if we were made to take pleasure in each other.

Every caress of his hands, every kiss, and every gaze he lavishes on me makes me feel loved in a way I’ve never known and never thought I could have. I didn’t think anything could match the way he used his hands on me. But this… this feeling isso much more.

The eye contact feels far more intimate than the physical act itself. Though I’m not sure if it’s because this is my first time knowing a man this way or because we are no longer hiding from what we feel.

Joon’s hips pound an unrelenting rhythm against mine.

“Joon…” His name transforms into a sharp moan as the building sensation uncoils with a snap.

My body tightens, and between one heartbeat and the next, I shatter around him. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. He continues moving, making every sensation more intense. I arch my back, gasping and moaning, but I never once look away. Joon holds me together.

His rhythm changes. Speeds up. Maybe it’s the intimacy of our eye contact or that I am just sensitive from my orgasm, but I am acutely aware of the way his cock thickens inside me.

With a sound of passion, agony, desperation, and possessiveness all rolled into one, he finds his release, joining me on the tail of my own.

Our frantic movements slow as we come down from the height of pleasure. Even after it fades, we remain as we are, clinging to each other.

He kisses me lightly on the lips, then along my jaw and down my throat. Unlike before, when his kisses were filled with desire and need, now they are sweet and filled with affection.

Joon gathers me against him as he sits up, pulling me into his lap. He rests his forehead against the side of my neck. I reach up and comb my fingers through his hair.

I lean forward to kiss his temple.

He is strong. More powerful than anyone I know, yet he is vulnerable in my arms. Underneath his hard exterior, he is someone who wants the same kindness and compassion we all do.

My heart aches for him. How lonely he must have been all this time, and I’m struck with an overwhelming desire to protect him.

We both lost our parents, but I had people who cared for me. I was never expected to carry on as if nothing happened, nor did I have countless people depending on me.

Somehow, he has felt comfortable enough around me to let his walls down.

As we hold each other, he sighs, letting his mouth trail lazy caresses over my skin. Not with need but a longing to hold onto the moment. To stay where we are, in our private world, free to be who we choose.

I sense the subtle shift in him, and I wonder if it’s the same thing nagging sensation rising in the back of my mind. Reminding me that I have always been destined to lose the ones I love.

And no matter how we fight to hold on, this cannot last.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

JOON

I watchViolet’s lesson from a distance. Half the time she was given has already passed. The entire thing is a pointless charade, yet she puts her entire heart and mind into it.

She is already sufficiently adept in poise and speech to get by in any situation that may arise. She will not need to know calligraphy, how to speak the old language, or the complicated dance of when to eat or drink at a table full of nobles of varying ranks.

I can easily think of far better ways for her to use this time. Ways that involve her hands, mouth, and body.

Iseul corrects Violet’s pronunciation, then demonstrates how to do it properly, explaining the error in great detail, as she does.

Violet reaches down to pat the demon at her side. Iseul’s sharp eye catches the movement and lectures her on the importance of focusing.

“These lessons are more painful to watch than when you suffered this torture,” Imugi grumbles.