“Nothing happened, Thor,” she says with such familiarity, it only adds to my ire. “We were just talking.”
“Please me.” I tangle my fingers in her hair and force her head back. “That’s what you’re here for. Or have you forgotten?”
She tries to nod, but my grip is too tight, and I can’t relent. Because in my mind, I’m still questioning it. Ella tries to put me at ease by dragging out my cock and sucking it into her mouth. My eyes fall shut, and I give into her for just a second. But it isn’t tempering my frustrations.
I want to fuck her until she’s completely wrecked, her skin swollen and flushed and smelling of me. That only bothers me more. There’s no room for this hunger inside me. But the more I taste her, feel her, possess her, the more I want. It’s like a drug, and she’s making me question my sanity.
I yank her head back, and my dick falls out of her mouth. She looks up at me in confusion, but I have nothing to say as I pull her up from the floor and drag her back to the kitchen table. There’s a good chance Lisbet is still around, but I really don’t give a fuck right now.
Bending Ella over, I unzip her jeans and drag them down over her hips, revealing her glistening pink pussy waiting to be destroyed by me. When I slide my fingers through her arousal, I can’t stifle the groan in my throat.
“Is this for me?”
“Only you.” She breathes the words so righteously against the table.
I slap her pussy, and she yelps right before I shove my dick balls deep inside her with contentment I’ll likely never know again. Fuck her for making me feel this way.
I glare down at her, rubbing her hair over her face so she can’t watch me. My fingers curl into her hips, and I fuck her into the table, using her like a doll as I think about nothing else but getting myself off. She’s quiet as a saint, biting her lip and trying to be good as she lets me take her like an animal. I smack her ass a few times, branding the creamy skin with my handprints, and still, she doesn’t make a peep. When that fails me, I lean my body over hers, yanking her blouse apart and pulling it down until her shoulders are bare. She tries to look back at me again, and I pin her head to the table with my palm. When my teeth sink into her shoulder, she finally gives me what I want. A scream that sounds like music to my fucking ears as my dick surges inside her, stuffing her full of my come.
“Mine,” I snarl, belatedly realizing I said that out loud.
Ella trembles in my grasp, squeezing my dick inside her to milk me dry. I think she likes being full of my come. I think she likes it so much I could imagine what it would feel like to impregnate her.
That thought stops me dead in my tracks. I pull my wet dick out of her and leave her there, hanging on the edge of the table. Messy and filthy and mine. That word keeps reverberating in my mind, and I need to make it stop. My eyes move over her, and I’m trying to figure out what to do next when Calder calls out for me again.
He rounds the corner from the main hall, and when his eyes land on Ella, he quickly averts his gaze.
“Calder,” I growl.
“It’s Mor,” he chokes out. “You need to come now.”
“She’s had several seizures,” Astrid explains. “This isn’t uncommon.”
“When?” My eyes move over the frail woman lying in my mother’s bed. It doesn’t look like her. Her gaze is so unfocused she hasn’t even noticed us.
“Throughout the night,” Astrid answers.
“Why wasn’t I informed immediately?”
She fiddles with the IV bag attached to my mother. “That’s not up to me.”
“Where the hell is the king?” I demand.
Calder’s lips set into a grim line, a sure sign that he’s hiding something.
“What is it?”
“Let’s step outside.” He tries to usher me away from our mother. “We can discuss it there.”
I hesitate, but Astrid is quick to give me her reassurance. “She needs to rest. If she becomes cognizant again, I’ll let your father know immediately.”
“If?” I choke out.
She offers me a pitiful expression that’s meant to be sympathetic, I’m sure, but it does me little good. That woman is our mother, and we were supposed to have more time.
“Things can change rapidly with this disease,” Astrid says. “Timeframes are only estimations. In my experience, it’s not atypical for something like this to occur out of the blue. It’s not generally a slow transition.”
“Thor.” Calder reaches out for me, but I shrug him off.
I knew this was going to happen, but I’m not ready for it yet. And I’m terrified that I’ll never have another coherent conversation with her. When I walk around the bed and take her hand in mine, she doesn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes are focused on the ceiling, unmoving, until they fall shut and remain that way.
“She’s exhausted and medicated,” Astrid tells me. “I think after some rest, you will have a better visit.”
I don’t want to leave her, but I know she’s right. She needs to rest, and I need to speak with Calder about why our father can’t be fucked to come visit his dying wife.
After we both give her a kiss on the cheek, Calder and I step out into the hall. He drags a hand through his hair, restless energy burning in his eyes.
“First, I want to apologize about Ella,” he says quickly, holding his hand up before I can argue. “I didn’t realize, Thor. I thought I was helping you, but I can see now that I wasn’t. And I need you to know it will never happen again. She’s yours. I get that. I’ll never come between you two, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
When I don’t respond, he reluctantly moves the conversation along. “As far as our father is concerned, there’s something I’ve noticed, but I didn’t want to upset you.”
“What is it?”
His attention drifts down the hall, and he hesitates for a second before gesturing for me to follow. “Maybe it’s better if I just show you.”
He leads the way to our father’s suite, and I follow wordlessly at his side, trying to process the warring emotions in my mind. There are too many to identify, and I feel too much. All I want to do is get drunk. I know it won’t solve anything, but at least I wouldn’t feel like this.
“Is he here?” I ask as Calder turns the knob on the king’s door.
He shakes his head, and I follow him inside. The room is just as I remember it even though I haven’t found an occasion to enter this suite since I lived at the palace many years ago. Everything is still decorated the way my mother preferred it, in shades of white and gold. But in place of my mother’s things, someone else’s belongings have infiltrated. It takes me a minute to notice all of them. The dressing gown draped over the chair. A pair of black heels. A gold necklace on the bedside table.
“What is this?” My heart kicks against my ribs in protest.
“They’re Narcissa’s.” Calder glares at the offending items. “It appears the two of them have become quite close.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I don’t want to believe that he would do this to our mother. Not while she’s dying. But my denial doesn’t make it any less true.