Page 57 of The Serpent Prince

At that, Imani’s control slipped.

Being above him gave her enough leverage to grind against him. He was so hard that it almost hurt to ride him through their clothing.

Imani buried her fingers in the thick strands of hair, which were like silk. Beneath the haze of desire, Imani was dimly aware of another sensation spreading through her that had nothing to do with the physical. There was that sense of rightness again. That feeling of being complete, as though she’d been half a person all this time.

Imani fought the sensation. She was Imani, whole and finished, no matter what the magic of the blood burning wanted them to believe. Imani’s defenses, which had been a pile of dust and rock around them, rebuilt themselves. She struggled to remember why she’d come in here in the first place—the frustration and distrust she’d felt toward this elf only this morning instead of the all-consuming passion driving her now.

With his hands on the hem of her ruined nightgown, Kiran ripped it over her head, revealing her naked body underneath. Unlike him, her sigils and brands stood gleaming against her skin amongst the bindings she’d placed there.

“Your flesh magic is gone,” he whispered.

She nodded.

Taking her arm, Kiran watched her face as he placed a tender kiss over her sigil—her real sigil—and her mysterious heartmate’s. “So perfect … so dangerous for anyone to know. Keep these heartmate sigils one of your most guarded secrets, aomagho ruya.” Then he moved up and placed another, and another, on all her brands, and she forgot how to speak for a moment.

Imani picked up his wrist and kissed him where his sigil should be. “What do you have to hide that’s so much worse?”

He ignored her, placing himself just below her entrance. Then he slammed into her, and they both groaned together.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.

Lost in the sensations, Imani could barely think. She bared her neck so he could feed, and the blissful feeling never stopped, amazing as he moved inside her. On top, she had more control, but with his hands on her hips, he sped them up, and she felt herself coming close.

Leaning down, she placed her forehead against his. He kissed her and moaned into her mouth.

“You feel so good, my darling,” he murmured.

A loud bang made them both freeze. Their panting was the only sound in the room, except for the footsteps they heard coming down the hall.

“What do we have here?”

Imani yelped and covered her breasts. Kiran grabbed the sheet and shoved it around Imani then pushed her off of him, positioning himself to hide her.

Ayla stood in the doorway with a small smile on her face. She crossed her arms and sighed. “I thought you might be more discreet than this, mate.”

At the term mate, Imani almost jumped out of the bed and attacked her, but Kiran pushed her back down.

“After our last intimacy, I had to find other means.” Kiran’s voice was cold.

“Well, I expect you to get over this aversion soon, because I won’t be accused of not pleasing my mate.” Ayla sighed and curled her lip in disgust at the state of the room. “And take better care to hide your disgusting habit in the future. If we’re to be sharing rooms, I never want to see this again.”

“I understand,” was all Kiran said.

Imani glared at him, hating that he actively slept with that viper despite him telling her he would continue to do so.

“What about us?” she whispered.

“There is no us,” he countered with a snarl.

Imani reeled back as though he had just slapped her. Ayla grinned like a smug cat.

“Cover your tits and get the fuck out of my sight, Imani.” His gaze slid over her with disdain, and something inside of Imani closed down.

She was not nothing.

“Now, Imani,” he practically shouted.

“I truly hate you most days.”