Page 113 of White Raven

This all felt like a faraway dream, the moonlight capturing reality, putting it in the cages away from reach.

“Watch him,” Onyx growled, widening my stance. “But know whose mark you bear.” Onyx’s thumb rubbed over my clit as his tongue licked through me.

“Huginn-Muninn . . .” I gasped. My vision blurred, my nails digging into the velvet fabric. I started to move against him, seeking more unbelievable pleasure.

“Jævlig god.” He held me firmer against his mouth. I moaned deeply and his restraint broke, devouring me like he could no longer fight an addiction. Whimpers and groans rose from deep inside, my body no longer in my control, trembling violently, giving over to the raw pleasure. Nothing had ever felt like this before.

“Onyx . . .” I bit down on my lip to keep back my moan. Not able to catch my breath, this time I wanted to drown under the intense sensation spearing through me. “Please.” I bucked against him, needing his tongue and fingers deeper inside me, my body burning, desperate to feel that high.

“Come on my tongue, kanin.” Onyx pinched down on my clit, as his tongue curled inside me, driving his fingers harder. A choked noise convulsed my body, white light bursting behind my lids, as my orgasm ripped through me. I felt him groan deeply against me, causing my core to squeeze painfully, only adding to the surge of ecstasy.

Heaving, I held onto the drape as I came back to myself, my senses sharper, as though the experience had wiped out the toxins in my system, trading one high for another.

Onyx pulled away, placing my dress back in place, I heard him stand up behind the curtain.

His quietness prickled warning at my skin. The moonlight now spilled down awareness and shame.

“Be grateful they couldn’t hear you, kanin,” he taunted behind the fabric. “Too drunk and gluttonous, enjoying your wedding celebration . . .” His tone was sharp and cold, the phrase taking me back to the night he kidnapped me. He had said the same thing to me the night of my last betrothal. “Now return to your husband, knowing you let his guard—a lowly thrall—tongue-fuck you without hesitation.” He sneered.

The disgrace of my actions, the hurt of his rejection, twisted to anger in a second.

“Excuse me?” I shoved the drape away, my chest squeezing at the sight of him. He stood towering over me in his black leathers, his lips glistening, but his eyes were filled with rage.

“You heard me.” He purposefully licked at his fingers, the ones that were inside me.

“You do not speak to me like that.” I could hear the condescension in my response, the girl who had kicked the water bucket into his face.

He smirked, stepping right up to me. “Why not?”

“I am your queen.”

“Not mine.” He sneered, ire oozing from him as he ran his thumb down my neck. “Though, I think this mark shows I am your master.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled.

He let out a laugh, his eyes sparking, like he found my response amusing.

“It will be removed soon. Replaced with the king’s mark,” I jabbed back.

His lips curled cruelly, his thumb tipping my head back.

“No matter what, we are done here.” Turning on his heel, he marched stiffly away, walking out of the room.

I stood there, watching him disappear, part of me wanting to run after him, battle against him, dare him to confess something I didn’t even want to know. Another part ashamed and angry for letting my guard down, for being so foolish.

The music changed to something lighter, pulling me back to myself. Through the shadows I could see guards on every door, watching whoever went in or out. The prospect of escaping unnoticed was hopeless.

“You face challenges head on, Wrennlyn. Do not forget what you represent. Your title holds power.”

At my father’s words, I lifted my chin, facing back to the dais, confidently strolling back to the king. I ignored the fact I could still feel Onyx’s tongue between my thighs, the craving for more already holding me hostage.

“My wife!” The king jostled Aina off his lap, standing up, his body swaying. “There you are!” He boomed, coming over to me. “I still have presents waiting for my bride!”

He nodded to Renyx, who stood at a wooden door next to the thrones. Renyx opened the door and two guards walked in with a tall, lean man between them, their weapons pushing him forward, stopping him at the steps right below us.

“My gift to you, my dove.” Gavric gestured to the prisoner with glee.

The man’s blue eyes lifted to mine, widening with childish awe. “White Raven.”