“Are you sure, Princess?”
She nodded, the need for more from him driving her onward. Arcas grinned, a darkness welling within his eyes she should have feared, if she didn’t know how pathetic he was beneath the veneer of his crown. He leaned over her, that cursed thumb of his slipping lower, but not low enough.
“Ask nicely,” he whispered.
“Arcas,” she muttered, the pleasure of him quickly drowning in his petulance. He pressed lightly against her, hardly a brush, but it was enough to change her tone as she writhed beneath him, desperate for more.
“You came to me,” he said, hovering near her, but not giving in to a second touch. “Youneedme.”
Lunelle released a muffled whimper, annoyed enough that she debated if she’d be able to finish the job herself, but just as she began to say as much, a lightning bolt traveled her spine and crackled against the base of her skull as he pressed into her once more.
A satisfied laugh rumbled against her ear. “Ask for more, I’ll give you anything you ask for.”
“Please,” she managed, her teeth clenched tightly against the plea. He did not require her to elaborate on her request. An immediate increase in pressure sent her into another universe entirely. She pushed into the touch, her heart pounding as her vision exploded into white stars. “Arcas?—”
“Let go for me, Lunelle,” he rasped.
She clenched around him, her entire body dissolving into a rippled spasm that seemed to have no end in sight as he fell forward again, gripping her throat as she cried out.It was as if he wanted to catch the notes and hold onto them in the dark.
Arcas tensed against her, his breathing stifled as he bit at her ear again.
“Where do you want me to?—”
“Anywhere but inside of me,” she huffed, hardly able to breathe as he pulled away from her.
Arcas collapsed beside her, tangling their legs as she struggled to breathe, the pressure of him gone, the emptiness within her welling into a hot flood of tears at the back of her throat. The pleasure of him hadn’t lasted but a second after it was over, the reality of her heartache returning in full force.
“You may stay here tonight if you want to,” he offered, stroking her arm lazily.
She pushed herself upright, searching for her dress.
“Not tonight,” she mumbled through the wave of stinging pain clutching at her chest.
She was still pulling her dress on when she burst from his room and darted across the palace, the Tether in her chest yanking reluctantly the entire way.
ChapterSeventeen
Some things were so painful that one could not even risk thinking about them, let alone acknowledging them out loud.
Tethering to her sister’s betrothed king after binding herself to him in blood was certainly one of those things.
Fucking a prince she hated—but couldn’t seem to stay away from—to fill the void carved by the aforementioned king was another.
She could not tell which sat heavier on her shoulders.
Despite the near-constant ache in her chest begging her to get out of bed, shirk any concept of morality, and run to either of their arms, Lunelle did her best to ignore the alarms ringing against her skull.
Instead, she thought about how irritated she was with her mother as they dressed for the first meeting of the morning. Arcas had promised testimony from a captured Neptunian spy, and Oestera was eager to hear from them.
Lunelle had faked illness for the last three days, and she knew her excuses as to why she could not attend the daily activities were dwindling.
As Lura helped her slide the morning gown over her chest, Lunelle nearly lost her breath, the ripple of the invisible Tether so unsettling.
“Are you well, Princess?” Lura asked.
“Fine,” she muttered.
“You seem… distraught.”
