Page 128 of His Realm

“I’m terrified to take anything you might need.”

“I think I need to feed my prince and feel him moving inside me.”

“You pose too great a temptation. I should change and sit on the chair.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warned him, feeling the familiar ache flushing my skin with heat, loving that nothing in my reaction had dimmed or altered, his breath on my neck covering me with goose bumps, making me shiver.

“What if I take too much blood, or I’m not gentle enough with your⁠—”

“None of those things could ever happen,” I promised him, reaching between us to take hold of the long, hard, thick length of him. There was already precum leaking from the head. “Now come here,” I murmured, stretching my neck in offering.

“Jason…” He sounded pained.

“I would never force you, and if you don’t want my⁠—”

“Of course I want you and your blood, but I have never in my life been that…desolate. I was not myself, and I’ve always been able to find and hold on to what makes me, me. There is always honor and duty to the crown and to the citizens of the realm. I am infinitely aware of my place in the world and that above all else, I am the draugr.”

I gently raked my fingers through his hair, marveling at the feel of it, how thick and silky it was, running like water through my fingers.

“But then you died, and all I was, was a man.”

I stroked him slowly, and I knew he was confessing his soul, but I also knew it was imperative that he see me as his and healed and the man he needed. I couldn’t ever be less than his mate, or he would limit me to what he felt was safe. That wouldn’t work.

“Are you listening to me?” he nearly yelled, trying to pull away but powerless under my tender assault.

“I heard every word,” I assured him. “Is there lube on your side in the nightstand?”

“Yes, of course there’s⁠—”

“Because you were sure I would get better and want you. So get it and show me.”

“Show you what?”

“That you believe I’m better and that you will always want me.”

He rolled away from me, nearly broke the drawer opening it—I heard the rest of it hit the floor—and then returned to my arms.

“Ødger tried to take my blood, but it’s only yours.”

“Yes,” he agreed, and I could hear the yearning in his voice.

“Stop making me beg,” I ordered. “You’re as much mine as I am yours. Look at my seal, remember who I am.”

“Yes,” came the hoarse whisper, and when I stretched my neck, his fangs were there.

Instantly, I felt the roll of arousal churn through me, a twisting inside that told me I was right, he was what I needed to heal, to love, to be exactly as I was supposed to. His soul had been locked away from everyone, and now there would be a thaw.

He drank deeply, and I savored the feel of giving him nourishment, giving him that which no one else could.

I heard the snap of the lube as he removed his fangs, licked over the wound, then rolled me gently to my side. He sat up for a moment, throwing off the covers, then kissing where his fangs had been and then over my shoulder blade.

“It was ruined,” he whispered as he slid two slick fingers into my ass. “You were covered everywhere in blood, and now all I see is your beautiful tawny skin with the freckles I’ve counted a million times.”

I arched my back, wanting his fingers in deeper, and he withdrew them and took my thigh in his hand, lifting it, opening me up as he pressed slowly inside me.

He felt incredible, and I must have as well because his breath was catching.

“Always so hot, so willing, and I sound ridiculous saying these things, but you feel so good, so perfect, the grip of your body so tight every single time.”