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Thighs draped over his shoulders, my toes curl as his tongue circles my bud. Shivers run up me, arching my back from the mattress.
He takes his time, the heat from his mouth latching onto my core. More than tasting me, he savours me.
Lashes fluttering, I reach my hands down my body and thread my fingers through his hair. In answer, he gives a gravelly sound like a growl against my core, and the vibrations tickle me.
I smile faintly, hooking my ankles back around his shoulders for leverage—I lift my bum up from the bed and move with his curling tongue, pacing back and forth slowly.
Wetness pools, and he tastes every bit of it. His hands run up the sides of my thighs to my bottom, where he grips firmly.
His hot mouth latches onto my bud and, with a suck, he pulls a moan from my rounding lips. Flicking his tongue over my bud, his hold on me firms, and he unleashes his attack on my core.
The sensations build up too quickly, too fast. I shimmy back to save myself but it crashes down on me before I can moan his name in protest.
Pleasure seizes my body, jerking me up from the mattress before I flop back down with a silent cry. I feel the dull ache of need brewing inside of me.
I want him.
I need him.
Fuck me, my prince.
Take me.
Keep me.
A blush is crawling up my chest as he peels himself back and looks up my body at my heated face. His eyes are hooked onto mine as he slowly shrugs off my legs, then rises up.
I watch him stand, his height reaching taller and broader. The candlelight flickers over the ink marking his muscular chest.
I eye the tattoos for a beat. “What are they?” I ask, my voice a raspy whisper.
Hands gliding up to my hips, he drags me down to the edge of the bed to meet his ready cock. Its tip presses into my opening, but stops.
“Every royal has a mark,” he tells me, his voice low and gravelly, thick with desire. His grip flexes on the meat of my hips. “I was born with these.”
“Oh...” It’s a tangled sound of understanding and pleasure as he starts to push his way into my opening, smooth and slow. “What other marks are there?”
Daein’s crystal blue gaze sweeps my body, hidden only by the faint material of my dress.
My smile is small as I reach down for the hem and glide it up my skin. His fingers dig into my flesh as I pull the dress over my head, tousling my curls as I chuck it to the side.
“Elden has a tail,” he tells me with a crooked grin, his eyes travelling my body, drinking in every piece of me, from my full breasts to the small crescent scars beside my belly button.
I choke on a snort, a lazy grin of my own in place. I flop my hands back to rest above my head, ready for him.
Partly sheathed inside of me, the prince’s cock jerks and I feel the early spill of his warmth wetting my walls. To hide my smile, I turn my cheek and nudge my face into the crook of my elbow.
The prince suddenly shoves into me, filling me whole. I grunt at the impact. His thickness swells inside of me.
I release a shuddering breath, my knees pushed back as he leans over me and his feral-sounding growl rumbles through the bedchamber, “I wish to see you, April. All of you. Reveal your face to me.”
The smile still dances on my lips as I draw my face from my inner-elbow. The sparkle in my eyes is daring just before he slides out of me, the wetness of my core gliding over him.
Daein’s face is stolen by a dark hunger as he nudges back into me. Now, he’s all business—the playfulness abandons him. His head bows, tendrils falling over his face, but his fierce gaze doesn't leave mine.
Slowly, he slips in and out of me, his fingers flexing on my hips, tightening. He holds me in place as his pace starts to pick up.
Darkness steals his face, but wonder steals mine.
