Mirquios took his time moving within her, making sure she felt every piece of him, body and soul, as they swirled into one being, one entity.
Arcas watched as her breasts swayed back and forth, her eyes closed against her cheeks, still flush with the red of the release he’d given her. She felt his eyes on her as she told herself to wait, to take her time with Mirquios, before bringing him back into her space.
“Do you want more?” Mirquios whispered behind her.
Lunelle whined, her throat taut with a plea she could not verbalize.
“What do you want, Lunelle?” he whispered into her ear, moving torturously slowly within her. “Do you want me to stay soft and slow? Or do you want me to rouse death herself within you?”
Lunelle shook her head, her eyes opening and falling over Arcas, who stared at her with his lips parted as if about to answer for her.
“Say it, Princess. I can’t give you what you won’t ask for.” He gripped her shoulder in his strong hands, his fingers stroking her neck as he hovered, waiting for her answer. She wiggled her hips against him, begging him to enter her again, but he resisted.
“Not until you tell me what you want.”
Lunelle groaned, unwilling to wait a second longer for him to unleash within her.
“I want you to take me. I want to be the only thing you pray to in this lifetime and all the rest.”
Lunelle leaned back, capturing his lips with hers as he tightened his grip on her, giving her everything she asked for and more. He pushed her forward, unable to hold his pace and hers at the same time.
All of the moments they never got, all of the moments they might not get, collapsed between them right there, right then. She landed on her hands, her face a breath away from Arcas, who stared with those deeply troubled eyes with a clarity she knew reflected back in her own.
This was enough for her.
This was more than enough for her.
“Touch me,” Lunelle pleaded, reaching her fingertips forward and grabbing the prince by his chin. “I need to feel you, too.”
Arcas scrambled forward at her plea, his hands capturing her breasts and pushing her back toward the king, claiming her lips as she cried out into his mouth. Mirquios groaned behind her, his grip turning her pale skin red. He looked over her shoulder at the prince.
“Your mouth is better than your hands,” he ground out, nearly at his own release. Arcas dropped his lips to her breasts without hesitation, pulling at her flesh with his teeth. One hand came up to his neck, squeezing as she fought for breath against his lips.
Lunelle shattered against them, the king responding to her choked cry with his own string of Mercurian curses, hissing against her shoulder. He panted as he leaned over her, Arcas stroking her hair as she spiraled out of her body and back in, something new buried within her Soul—something made of dark and light.
Arcas fell back onto the sofa as Mirquios cradled her, her breath coming in short bursts. The prince sighed. His grin returned.
“If I am consumed by some hellish beast in the Nether tomorrow, that will have been worth it.”
Lunelle laughed, clutching at the king’s thighs, attempting to bring herself back to their plane of existence. Arcas rose, pulling his clothes from the floor.
“Well, tomorrow just got a little more complicated,” Mirquios sighed.
“Perhaps it just got much simpler,” Arcas said, pulling on his trousers.
Lunelle straightened, searching his gaze as it fell somewhere far off.
“How do you mean?”
The prince worked on the buttons on his shirt.
“I never wanted your throne, starling. I only ever wanted you.”
Lunelle’s heart lurched, that small space in her chest that she’d reserved only for him suddenly taking up a much larger parcel of her lungs.
“Perhaps there is a world where we can all get what we want.” Mirquios held the prince’s eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.
Lunelle giggled. “I fear you’ll feel differently once you’ve faced your Shadow.”
