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“Endreth,” Anthea whispered into his ear, her lips brushing against it, “there’s no one here.” And she moved again, her body sliding against his full length in a tantalizing way that made him gasp.
His hands on her waist stilled her. “Thea,” he managed to say. “I hurt you last time.” She shook her head, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. “But you might still be—” he tried to argue, but she could see it in his eyes—the surrender, the desire that mirrored her own.
Leaning closer, her lips brushed his ear again, whispering words she knew would tip the balance in her favor. “I liked it, Endreth . . . I want this. I want you inside me. Can’t you feel how wet I am for you—” The words were out before she could think about them, the honesty of them making her feel exposed—but she didn’t back down, didn’t look away. And then she saw it: his resolve wavering?—
Endreth was quick to claim her then. With deft hands, he freed himself from his pants, pushing aside her underwear, entering her with an almost desperate urgency.
A gasp escaped her at the sudden fullness—the brief discomfort was overshadowed by the pleasure that quickly followed. It was a sweet kind of agony, one she was quickly becoming addicted to.
He buried his face in her neck, his breath ragged and hot against her skin as he moved inside her.
The loneliness that had become her constant companion since her arrival in this alien world seemed to evaporate in the face of Endreth’s passion. It was as if he was filling up the hollow spaces within her, driving away the emptiness. Anthea moved, wiggling her hips, trying to take him deeper. She wanted to feel the burn, the delicious stretch of her body accommodating him.
“Endreth,” she purred, her voice hoarse with desire. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him up to look at her. His eyes were dark, swirling with an array of emotions she was too overwhelmed to decipher. But it was there: that same wild, untamed energy from the previous night was simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be released. “Let go,” she urged, yearning to feel that unrestrained passion again, craving the way he made her forget the world around them, made her forget everything but him.
Endreth’s response was instant, a growl that vibrated through his chest and into her. His hands, which had been firmly placed at her waist, moved with sudden intensity, gripping her hips as he relinquished the last vestiges of his control.
She felt him, all of him, powerful and unrestrained, as he drove himself into her. The force of his movements rocked her, her body leaning into his with each thrust. It was wild and untamed, every bit as overwhelming as she had remembered—utterly exhilarating.
A groan escaped her, swiftly swallowed by his shoulder as she bit down to stifle her sounds.
The world around them ceased to exist.
There was only Endreth, only this moment.
When she reached the edge, Anthea was grateful for the solidity of Endreth’s shoulder beneath her lips. No one would hear her screams here.
His fingers grabbed her updo, the delicate pins and carefully arranged curls tumbling down as he gripped her hair from her roots. Pulling her head back sharply, he thrust deep inside, hitting a spot that made her bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. His groan rumbled against her jaw as his body shuddered, filling her, the delicious aftershocks of his climax making her sensitive body hum. Every breath he took, every beat of his heart echoed in her own body—they were one in that moment.
Then he stilled, releasing her hair.
And the world came crashing back.
A ripple of curses spilled from his lips as he carefully extracted himself from her, placing her gently back onto the bench. He took a step back, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his chest rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.
“We . . . we need to get back to the party,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and thick with a frustration Anthea didn’t understand. He seemed more worried than she had ever seen him, his eyes darting around the secluded garden. “And now . . . you will reek of me,” Endreth continued, a scowl forming on his face. “The others—they will notice.” His gaze fell on her.
His words swirled around her, making little sense in her post-coital daze. His obvious frustration jarred with the intimate moments they had just shared, unsettling her. Why was he so bothered by the thought of their dalliance being noticed? Wasn’t that the play? Wasn’t it what the others were supposed to think anyway? As he paced around the garden, uncertainty gnawed at her, leading her to question the choices she had just made. Why had she pushed him? It was so unlike her, so far from the cautious, careful person she had always been. She couldn’t quite make sense of it all.
Endreth was quick to rummage in his pocket, producing a handkerchief with which he crouched before her, making a cursory attempt to clean the evidence from her inner thighs. His touch was gentle, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he did his best to wipe her clean.
“This was not supposed to happen,” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t . . . I did not mean to . . . to use our roles like this.” His face was a mask of self-reproach, his eyes downcast. He was blaming himself, perhaps even feeling disgusted with his actions.
Before she could think, she reached out and gently grabbed his chin, pulling him to look at her. “Endreth, stop,” she said softly. “You didn’t . . . I wanted this. It’s okay.”
He froze, looking at her with wide, surprised eyes.
She continued, her heart pounding in her chest. “I . . . I trust you.” The words left her lips before she had a chance to filter them, and his eyes widened further, if that was even possible.
But instead of the relief she’d hoped for, a flicker of something that looked even more like self-disgust passed over his face, and he quickly looked away.
22
They left the secluded garden, returning to the bustling castle. Anthea made a concerted effort to map their route in her mind. Left here, straight through the long hallway with the turquoise ceiling, right at the statue of a golden griffin, a quick climb up the staircase—the details etched themselves in her memory, serving as landmarks she would use to navigate her way back to the garden the following night.
The grand hall, lavishly decorated, was filled with pulsating music, the rhythm winding its way around the guests. Above, a vast crystal dome spanned the ceiling, through which the moonlight, brilliantly bright, shone down, casting a silvery glow over the room, making the crystal facets of the dome sparkle and refract light in a million ways—like a giant disco ball.
Endreth led Anthea through several bodies intertwined on couches and raised platforms scattered around the room. Some were elves, some human, but most were a tangled mix of the two races.
