An erotic ache pulsed between my legs, hot and slick. My tongue ran over my lips, and Lyr watched it with fascination. I didn’t need to be worshipped. I just wanted him to fuck me hard, hands gripping my ass. I burned with sexual fire.
“I want to see all of you,” he said.
My excruciating sexual need made it impossible for me to think clearly, or to remember any of my objections to fucking Lyr. I wanted sex more than I’d ever wanted anything.
I reached for the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, desperate for him to run his hands over my plump breasts. I dropped the wet shirt to the floor and looked up at him. His beauty still shocked me, even as the Ankou, and desire burned in me. His magic tingled over my body.
He pressed in, closer to me now. He gripped my waist possessively, thumbs stroking down near my hipbones, sliding under the waistband of the shorts. Warmth pounded in my core, and I let out a low moan.
He leaned down, brushing his teeth over my neck. This was definitely torture, and I needed more friction from him, needed his body sliding fast against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him down closer to me.
He managed to keep his restraint, moving slowly. When he licked my skin, my body trembled with pleasure. Then, he moved his lips to mine, kissing me with a wild desperation that slowed into rolling passion. His tongue brushed against mine, and I moaned as his thumbs flicked lower over my hips. He palmed one of my breasts, the touch too light.
With a low growl, he pulled away from the kiss, trailing his gaze over my rain-slicked body again. The cave air almost cooled my fevered skin.
“Divine,” he murmured, and the word trembled over my body in an erotic stroke.
I reached for waist of his trousers. I unbuttoned them as fast as could. As I did, my fingertips brushed against him, and he let out a low sound in his throat.
Now, it was my turn to stare at his physical perfection, the muscled god before me. My body demanded fullness.
I needed the shorts off now. I pulled them off, and Lyr’s ravenous gaze was locked on my body, watching as my legs fell open.
Now, the look in his eyes had gone from reverent to completely wild as he stared at me naked and aroused, his gaze lingering at the top of my thighs. The god looked like he was about to become untethered.
He lifted my wrists over my head, pinning them to the ground with one hand. The other hand palmed my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple.
Then, his mouth moved to mine, kissing me so deeply I moaned.
His hand moved lower in a slow stroke down my sleek skin, leaving hot tingles over my ribs, my waist, my hips. But I needed him between my legs. I’d become nothing but a pool of sexual need.
“Lyr,” I breathed. “Touch me harder.”
Lyr seemed to be enjoying his control, drawing it out to make me more wet and ripe. With excruciating lightness, he stroked his fingertips between my legs. My legs opened wider, the slowness making me insane. The cold air on my nipples made them tighten into sensitive points.
Aching for him, I writhed against his hand, demanding more. Lyr leaned in and kissed me again, deep and sensual. His fingers still made lazy strokes at the slick apex of my thighs, a finger slipping into me to tease me some more. My hips bucked against him, and I kissed him back hard. The soft fullness of my body still ached for more of him.
I pulled my wrists free from his grasp and wrapped my arms around his neck. Something snapped in him, and he was moving with a different fierceness now, gripping me under my rear to lift me from the ground. He pushed me against the cave wall. The passion that had built in me was driving me insane.
“Tell me what you want.” I was a hollow cavern of sexual need, but I wanted him to tell me.
“I want you, Aenor.”
“More specific,” I said.
“I want to fuck you.”
“So fuck me.”
He thrust into me, filling me inch by inch. My body clenched around him, pleasure rippling through me.
I dragged my fingernails down his back, pulling him deeper into me as our bodies merged. Lyr’s magic pulsed around me, stroking my skin. His mouth was on my throat, teeth grazing it. I arched my neck, giving in to him.
He slammed into me harder, pace quickening, until pleasure erupted in me like a volcano. My nails dug into his back, my teeth in his shoulder like I was claiming him. I shuddered against him, my mind stilling to perfect silence.
With his release, Lyr moaned my name into my neck. Sweat and rain slicked our bodies, and he held me there against the rock as we caught our breath.
When he looked into my eyes again, I was looking at blue. Lyr again, not the Ankou.
His lips were curled in a satisfied smile.
“There you are,” I whispered.
“I was here.”
He lifted me from the wall, then carried me to lie on top of him, curled up against him on the floor. He wrapped his powerful arms around me, and he murmured into my hair, “Princess Aenor Dahut, rightful heir of the throne of Ys.”
Curled into his arms, I feel into a deep, dreamless sleep. Quiet, for once.
Chapter 32
The rising sun released us from the cave, and we walked until we reached a proper road that took us closer to Jerusalem. Dirt covered my shoes, and I could have blended in well with the homeless people in the local parks. Though the plastic baggie of basil at my waist and the knife strapped to my bare thigh may have set me apart.
Even shirtless, Lyr still somehow looked like a king, and people in cars gaped at him as he walked past. My gaze kept drifting over to him, drinking him in. Last night with Lyr had been mind-shattering in a way I’d never experienced before. Every time I brushed against his arm, warmth tingled through my body, and I kept finding reasons to move closer to him.
But I was here for a reason, and I’d stay focused.
The sun stained the golden stones with tangerine shades as we walked into the old city.
Now, as we drew closer, I could tell the Winter Witch was right. Slowly, distantly, I could hear the sound of the athame—the deep, funereal song of Meriadoc. When I heard the music floating on the wind, I felt a different sort of longing. It wasn’t just power that I wanted from the athame, although I longed for that too.
I wanted my mother back.
I glanced at Lyr as we walked. When he caught my gaze, a faint smile on his lips, I felt another surge of warmth for him.
“I hear it growing louder. The Winter Witch was right. About the athame,” I said quickly. “Not about how I’m going to try to cut off your head.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my mood grew darker. If the Winter Witch was correct about the location of the athame—did it increase the likelihood of the Death spills from the daughter of Meriadoc prophecy? Would I become demented somehow and try to rule a kingdom of ashes and bones? I kept wondering if the athame would poison me with its power.
The thought sent a stab of panic through my bones.
“Lyr,” I began. “Are you still concerned about the Winter Witch’s prophecy? The part where I’m fixing to destroy the world?”
His brow furrowed. “I can’t explain why it would be wrong, but it doesn’t feel right to me.”
“It doesn’t feel right to me either, but you said the Winter Witch was never wrong,” I pointed out.
“Sometimes it can be hard to interpret things.” His blue eyes reflected the morning light. “In any case, if you tried to destroy the world, I’m sure you’d have a good reason.”