Page 115 of The Hunted

Eryx sliced through the delicates with ease.

The blade hit the floor.

His palm found her ass.

She turned back to kiss him while he rested the head of his cock against her slick slit. His tongue slashed to hers when his hips jutted forward.

Just like that, he was filling her.

Fucking her.

Making her forget.

He was always so brutal. Unforgiving when he handled her. Fast and deep and raw. It made her ache, but in the best way. Pleasure was far better when twisted with a tinge of pain. She didn’t shy away from it, either … simply urged him on for more.

Eryx delivered.

She hoped he always would.

Especially like this.

“Gods, what are you doing to me?” His voice in her ear was a harsh, guttural whisper. “Why are you like this?”

She could ask him the same.

He fucked her just like that, yanking on her hair and then shoving two fingers into her mouth to silence her, until she came again. Her arousal soaked his length, and she could hear it in the slick smack of his balls against her backside.

“Don’t you move after I come.”

That was the only thing she heard before a thick groan fell from his lips. He held her tight to his cock, deep enough to hurt, when he released inside her. She was still trying to catch her own breath. The gulp of air came faster when he pulled out of her and kneeled down. His hands spread her ass wide, and his teeth found the still burning cheek from the earlier slap as she felt his semen slip out of her sex and fall to the gown at her feet.

“Yes,” he murmured, “love watching that, my darling.”

Arelle sighed when his rough touches came softer after her orgasm had turned into nothing but a shiver working its way through her body. His fingertips stroked the strands of her hair when he stood up behind her again and leaned his jaw against hers to nuzzle. She didn’t think he knew, but that was how her kind—their kind—greeted people they loved dearly.

Like a mate, or their young.

It was moments like those that reminded Arelle that no matter what she thought of this man, their mating, or the things he was capable of, he was also one of them. She’d kept marking Eryx as different—a landwalker, because that had been his entire life.

But he was more.

A prince.

Insufferable.

A man who could walk the land and sea.

Flawed.

Her mate.

Hers.

“You seemed sad,” he said, “and I didn’t like that at all.”

Arelle laughed lightly. “Was that why you did this? Not everything else you said? You can’t fix everything by fucking me, Eryx.”

“But I can. And I consider it to my benefit also when I get to see you like this.”