She only nodded, fiddling with the lace of her sleeve.
“What’s wrong?” Arcas squinted in the dim lighting, tilting his head. His jaw flexed, an irritation there she could not identify. “What do you need from me, Princess?”
She took a breath. And then another.
And a third for good measure.
And then she hauled herself to him, praying to any god that might be listening that it would take away the stone settling in her stomach for just a moment.
Their bodies clashed together, a low grunt leaving his bare chest as she pulled at him. This was not the controlled exploration of her desires before, where she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
This was a woman unhinged, desperate to numb many types of pain at once. She roamed her hands over his torso, his fingers finding their place on her hips and in her hair, pulling harder than he might have had she not swept in with such a fury at her back.
Arcas did not ask another question—perhaps afraid of what the answers might be—as he backed her into the glass of his balcony door, bracing himself before pulling against her backside and wrapping her legs around his waist. He never broke contact with her mouth, taking anything she would give him as he walked her toward his bed.
She was slipping under the waves of him before her back even hit the silk of his bedding, surprised when she was suddenly horizontal. He reached for her braid, tugging at the leather band and releasing her long white waves.
He crashed over her, the weight of him a welcome anchor to her heavy heart.
She could feel him between her legs, already hardened at the thought of her seeking him out once more, ready to make her forget. Lunelle clutched at his back as he kissed her neck, his bare skin smooth to her touch as she ground her hips over his.
Arcas tore at her dress, pulling it down over her shoulders and around her waist. She rolled beneath him to her belly, and he separated from her only to slide the dress off her hips and legs, shedding his pants in the process. He fell back over her, kissing a sizzling line up her spine and straddling her hips. She could feel the length of him resting against her, but he was focused on other things first.
“You’re so tense you feel like you’re about to burst, and not in a way I’d like to see,” he mumbled. He leaned over her, reaching for the candle on his nightstand. Arcas hissed as he dipped his fingers into the molten center, rubbing his palms together as the wax slipped between his skin, glazing them in an oily sheen that smelled like the roses in his gardens.
He ran his hands over her back, the warmth from the oil soaking into her muscles as he leaned his weight into her, massaging the tense knots away. With every movement he made, she felt him graze her backside, the swollen heat of him teasing her. He was on his third round of wax when she snapped, arching her spine so her ass pushed into him, begging for more friction, more movement, more of him inside of her.
“We don’t want to play, then?” he hummed, running his hands up her sides, brushing the sensitive skin of her breasts. Lunelle bucked again. “Fine,” he sighed, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck.
He leaned his weight over her, his knee hooking behind hers and pushing her leg out, creating space for him.
“Gods,” he sighed as she gasped, rolling her head forward and sending her sheet of silver locks over the edge of his bed. He stayed still for a moment, repositioning his arms around her, wrapping his long fingers around her neck, and pulling her face toward him as he hovered over her.
Lunelle took his thumb into her mouth, biting at the soft flesh of a hand that had been spoiled in his palace. Her refreshed irritation with him spurred her on, pushing her hips back as she bit down harder.
“Easy now, starling,” Arcas purred, twisting his hand tightly into her hair. The sting on her scalp erased the sting in her ribs. “You don’t want to start a game you cannot win.”
Lunelle arched harder, twisting her neck to find his hard gaze as his knee pushed her leg further toward her elbow, allowing him to sink deeper and take up more of her space.
That was enough for her.
The way his thighs hit hers, the twitch of his fingers in her mouth, his hot breath in her ear… all of it was enough to destroy whatever pain her misfortune planted within her and send her mind over the edge of the Plutonian cliffs.
His lips claimed her ear, her neck, her shoulder, leaving marks across her entire body as she slowly felt her muscles coil around his.
“That’s right,” he sighed as she rocked back and forth with him, finally releasing the last vestige of self-loathing keeping her from fully enjoying her distraction of choice. “Take what’s yours, Princess.”
She pulled his hand from her mouth and shoved it between the bed and her breasts. He may not have been the leader his court needed, but he at least had no problem taking direction. He pinched her soft skin as she rocked her hips faster, taking more.
Arcas leaned back, the pale blue column of his throat stretching toward the ceiling and out of her limited view.
Lunelle closed her eyes, resting her forehead against her arm as he groaned behind her, the sound so delicious she almost forgot she was meant to loathe him. As he pushed her closer to the edge, his grip loosened, the thumb she’d bitten earlier now hovering between her legs.
She pushed her head up, looking over her shoulder. His head leaned back, eyes closed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth as he kneaded her. His throat tightened with the same tension that kept her in place. She watched his thumb swirl a circle around her lower back, hesitating to move lower.
“Do not hold back from me,” she said.
Arcas’s eyes snapped forward, searching for hers.
