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“You’re not in control of me,” she whispers. “I can fuck whoever I want.”
I drop my head until my mouth is a hair’s breadth from hers and whisper back, “Wrong again.”
She closes the distance between us in an instant, fusing her mouth to mine. She doesn’t touch me, her hands hanging by her sides and curled into fists, but she takes greedily from my mouth. Her tongue lashes against mine, and she groans low in her throat when I nip it with my teeth.
Her hands come up to my chest, fingers curling in the fabric of my robes, and I snake my arm around her waist, tugging her into me. I wait for her to push me away like she did in her rooms. When she doesn’t, I give in to my desire from dinner and slip my hand into her hair, fisting it and roughly tugging her head back.
The act draws a needy moan from her, and I tilt my head to drag my teeth along her jaw and down the exposed column of her throat. Her heartbeat pounds a furious rhythm under my lips, and she tilts her head for me even more.
Smiling against her skin, I scrape my teeth over the spot where her neck joins her shoulder, and she sucks in a sharp breath, shuddering in my arms.
My hand slides down to grip her ass, squeezing it roughly and drawing her against me, grinding the hard length of my cock into her hip. She whimpers, and the sound makes me ache to be inside her, to feel her moving around me.
I bunch her skirt in my hands, revealing the long, smooth line of her leg. The image of trailing my lips over every inch of her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head slams into me, but there isn’t time for that now. I need to be buried to the hilt in her like I need air in my lungs.
She helps me with her dress, then her hands dive into my robes when I lift her into my arms, pressing her back against the tree. She shoves into my breeches, a desperate sigh falling from her lips when I press a line of kisses across her breasts. Her fingers wrap around me, and I drop my forehead to her chest with a groan.
Stroking me root to tip, she squirms against me, my fingers digging into the soft skin of her ass. Smacking her hand away, I line myself up with her entrance and catch her gaze. Her eyes are heavy with lust, her lips red and swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed with desire.
I thrust my hips forward, the tip of my cock sliding inside her, and she wraps her legs around my waist.
“I hate you,” she whispers, her legs tightening around my waist, trying to draw me further inside her.
“I know,” I reply, slamming into her and capturing her cry with my lips.
She’s exquisite, her pussy rippling around me with each brutal thrust, her breath catching in the back of her throat. Trapping her body between me and the tree, I trace a path across her jaw with my teeth, tugging her earlobe roughly.
“Fuck,” she rasps, the word caught somewhere between a curse and a prayer.
“Come undone for me, little one,” I command, grinding my pelvis against her clit until she shudders. “Let me feel you.”
I don’t relent in my pace, pushing her closer and closer to the brink, reveling in the sting as she digs her fingernails into the skin of my neck. She stiffens in my arms, body going taut, breaths ragged. I want to feel her explode. I need to feel it. To feel what I can do to her.
Then she finally, blissfully, squeezes tight around me, her orgasm tearing through her with a sob. I grit my teeth against my own release until she finishes contracting on my cock. When her body goes limp in my arms, I give her one last punishing thrust and follow her over the edge.
Her teeth scrape across my jaw, and my hips jerk, making her groan and ripple around me again.
“That was the worst sex I’ve ever had,” she pants against my skin, eliciting a low laugh from me.
I’m tempted to take her back to my rooms, taste every inch of her, and mark her as mine in every way I know how. But she gives my shoulder a weak shove, and instead I step back, setting her on the ground and tucking myself into my breeches while she adjusts her skirts and runs a shaky hand through her hair.
Holding out my hand for hers, she hesitates before laying her fingers in mine. I shift us back to her rooms, arriving in front of her plush bed. Her eyes dart to the neatly made quilt and piles of pillows, color rising to her chest and crawling up her neck.
“Next time, I’ll take my time with you.”
She draws in a deep breath and looks up at me, but doesn’t move away. “There won’t be a next time.”
I grin. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Skimming my fingertip over the spines of the books, I shuffle one out from the shelf and stack it on top of the others already in my hands. I carry my prizes down the winding wrought iron staircase and claim one of the overstuffed chairs by the window.
After my unfortunate slip with Thieran in the forest, I all but begged Kaia to show me where the library was this morning. I needed a distraction so I didn’t spend all my time thinking about Thieran, and plotting my next escape seemed like the best one.
The library is far bigger than I expected, with three stories of floor-to-ceiling bookcases joined by curving staircases and occasionally broken by expansive windows. I’ve never seen so many books in all my life.
Thieran has quite the collection. Everything from novels to Acarian history to books about magick and power and the gods. Nothing seems off limits. If Thieran knows I’m in here, he doesn’t expect me to be able to learn much.
