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He grabs me by the wrists and pins them over my head. His wings unfurl over me and blot out the moon.
“Fuck me,” I plead.
He growls and leans down to my neck, his lips lingering against my rapid pulse. “Pyrah, you’re dreaming.”
Everything snaps into sharper focus. “I remember asking you for a dream.”
“Do you still consent?”
“Yes.” I’m trembling with unspent tension. “God, Rook, I need this.”
He releases one of my wrists long enough to shove my knees apart. I have only a moment to brace myself. The spikes along his cock make me tense my thighs. When he penetrates me, I cry out. He hasn’t hurt me, but he hits an ache deep inside me.
“I want you to be rough,” I whisper.
He pins me down and fucks me hard. I’m panting, aching for release, my back jolting across the dirt with every thrust.
When he slides out, I’m so tense that I snarl at him. He releases my wrists just long enough to flip me onto my belly. I scramble onto my hands and knees. I’m tempted to run again, to play with him, but he grabs me by my hips and drags me back.
His hand slides along the nape of my neck before curling in a fistful of my hair. “You like that?” he asks, his voice deep.
“Very much.”
With a satisfied growl, he nudges my thighs apart with his knee. I’m bared to him, my wet heat ready for him. He keeps me on my hands and knees and fucks me like an animal.
I’m so close, I’m chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me,” under my breath like a prayer.
When he groans like he can’t help himself, the sinful sound brings me to the brink. A climax knocks the breath out of me. My fingers claw at the dirt as I shudder.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Feel how wet you are when you come. Drenched.”
He sounds so pleased with me. I brace myself on my shaking arms and struggle to inhale. He strokes into me, balls deep, and grunts as he comes. When he pulls out, his seed spills down my thighs.
He drags me down to the ground and holds me in his arms. I’m warm and glowing all over. I let out a shuddering sigh.
“Fucked by a nightmare,” I say. “Just the way I like it.”
* * *
When I wake,it’s already twilight.
We leave the ruins of Hexfall together. Rook lifts me into Bolt’s saddle. While I ride, he walks alongside and holds her reins. The Thornwood gleams emerald in the evening, and the scents of wet earth and roses perfume a clinging mist.
I wonder how long Rook lived here before.When the king died. That’s how he referred to his father’s death. It’s such a distant way to describe the queen stabbing the king in the back, or Rook finding him bleeding out.
“Where are we going?” I ask. “To find Zin?”
“No, a nightwitch who can break the aellurium chains. She enchanted them for me the first time, which cost a small fortune.”
“You could have saved a lot of trouble and paid me the small fortune directly.”
He glances sideways at me. “Before or after you burned me to a crisp?”
I grimace. “Was my reputation that bad?”
“Worse.”
“Why am I the only one with a reputation? You’re the Gray Prince. How come I’ve never heard any rumors about you?”
