Estrella
I yank against Anwen's grip, ignoring the way my wolf howls for more. "Unhand me!"
He looks at me with those icy blue eyes, then turns to Tess. "I must insist you give us a moment alone."
My face burns. How dare he talk to her like I'm not here? I am Luna Queen of Sundrop Gem! I turn to Tess, expecting to see concern in her eyes, to receive a mind-link for a plan to get out of here without jeopardizing our standing in the castle. Instead, like she's hypnotized, she only looks at Anwen.
"Yes, Your Highness." She curtsies, turns, and leaves the solarium. The click of the door closing behind her echoes painfully.
Abandoned by my dearest friend, left to the whims of the monstrous mate the Goddess picked out for me. I have nowhere left to turn.
Anwen pulls aside the neck of his doublet, revealing the very edge of the sun-shaped bite on his shoulder. "We are mates, Estrella. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"It did once." I fight his iron hold. My skin bruises under his fingers. Sickeningly, that only makes me-my wolf-want him more.
"We need to be together." He jumps over the table and lands next to me without releasing my wrist. "It's written in our bodies. I'm tired of hurting."
"I am tired of you treating me like your equal." I stomp on his foot, but I've forgotten his capacity to endure pain. His grip doesn't loosen. "I am Luna Queen Estrella Sollabella, and you are nothing more than a soon-to-be contingency plan."
"Seems your father was right about your stubbornness, at least." Anwen snorts. "Titles don't matter between mates. We're made for each other." He strokes a finger down my cheek, letting his nail sharpen to a fine enough point to scrape.
I shiver. If I screamed, someone would come running. I could mind-link Mother or Castor, and they'd save me in a moment.
"I don't believe that anymore," I say, fighting to keep the quiver out of my voice.
Anwen's eyes flash. "I know a challenge when I hear one."
He tugs me into him, and our mouths clash. His taste spills over my tongue. He gropes my breasts through my dress, hungry and desperate. My wolf snarls, paces, fights my control. She wants to melt into him and become the perfect, sweet Luna he desires.
Never. I am Luna Queen.
"You're not proving much," I hiss between kisses.
His blue eyes burn, and I realize Anwen's control is as fragile as a moonbeam. I can push him into whatever I like. I sink my teeth into his lower lip until hot, coppery blood overwhelms his taste. Memories threaten to rip me away, but nothing can stop me now.
"You want proof?" He shreds the front of my dress and shoves the remaining fabric off my shoulders before I can even reply.
I am naked before him, before anyone who sees fit to pass the glass walls of the solarium, and I am burning. I stare up at him, defiant.
He snarls, turns away from me, and swipes an armful of dishes off the table. They shatter on the floor, food smells mixing with the heady scent of sex and him. He whips back, grabs me around the waist, and sits me on the cleared table. My wetness drips down my thighs as he pushes me around.
"I knew it." He swipes a finger through it and holds it up to the light. "You need me just as badly as I need you."
Not trusting my voice, I shake my head.
He growls. "By the time I'm done, you won't be able to remember anything but my name."
Anwen drops to his knees between my legs, and my heart hammers. Hazy flashes from our first night together remind me he's done this before, but not the details. When his tongue first touches my clit, it takes everything in me not to scream. I will not give him the satisfaction.
And I don't believe I want anyone to come rushing anymore.
I thread my fingers into his pale hair and hold on as tightly as I can. He pushes my legs wider and pins them against the table, the edges of the tiles scraping my soft skin. A soft whimper escapes through my lips.
I feel his smile against my inner thighs.
No. I won't let him believe he's in charge, that this moment is his. I fight his grasp again, but my legs are far stronger than my arms, and he is far more distracted. I manage to slip one out and wrap it around his head, pulling him ever closer and making it impossible for him to leave. He slides dangerously sharp fangs along my wet flesh, a threat more than pain. I only pull him tighter. Let him try it, if he thinks he can survive the consequences.
His fangs fade away as his tongue fucks into me. I stuff my free hand into my mouth to stifle the noises threatening to flow free. Anwen glances up at me, and his eyes become impossibly hungrier as he takes in the fingers between my lips. The apex of pleasure builds between my legs.
And if I allow it, this will end. Whatever spell exists between us will shatter, and we'll be forced to face what's happening. That is the one thing I can't control.
I unwind my leg and yank him back by his hair. He licks his glimmering lips salaciously.
"Not satisfied?" He smirks. "I usually get better reviews."
I don't want to hear a word about his other women. I pull him to his feet and shred his pants just like he destroyed my dress. His cock springs free, hard and proud.
"I'm happy to fuck-"
I drop to my knees in front of him and take his cock in my mouth before he can finish the sentence. If I allow him to bring me to those euphoric heights first, I will have lost. This way, he is the one wild with want, desperate and writhing. My wolf complains, as does the want between my legs, but I focus my attention on him.
His taste, his smell, is overwhelming with him in my mouth. Mint and whiskey, something gritty, and the animal stink of sex. I've never done this before, but like the first night, instinct guides me. Instinct, and his hands on the back of my head, pushing me further onto his cock.
"Just like that," he murmurs. "Use your tongue."
I scrape my teeth along him, a sharp reprimand for attempting to order me around, despite how much the order shivers down my spine. Giving myself up to him has never been so tempting. But I want to watch him come undone for once. Let him be the one who wants, who lies awake at night wondering what he did wrong. I bob forward and take more of him into my mouth.
He groans like music.
The rhythm isn't hard to find. Forward and back, forward and back, to the frantic beat of his heart. When I think he's forgotten, I do try using my tongue, swirling it around the girth of him. He slams into me with another groan, and I smirk. Hopefully, he feels that as I did. I drag my nails up and down the backs of his thighs, alternating between sharp and dull with my thrusts. His hips judder, struggling to maintain pace, and his words lose their shape. I look up.
The perfect prince I met on the docks-could it be only a week ago?-is a ruin. His golden hair sticks up at odd angles, shaped by my hands and legs. His pale mouth is open, exposing the hot, red inside of him. His doublet, the only remaining article of clothing between us, nearly slumps off his shoulder. He has never been more beautiful.
He sucks in a breath. "I'm going to-"
I pull back. He whines like a pup, and I drink in the sound.
My wolf prances, begging me to let him take me.
"No," he snarls suddenly. "You don't get to do this to me."
The dangerous edge to his voice is just as delicious. Perhaps my wolf has the right idea.
I move easily as he drags me off the floor and bends me over the table. The sharp edges of the tiles dig into my breasts, and my wolf howls. He yanks my legs apart, and I reach back to hold them in place. Anwen groans as he lines up.
"Perfect." He sinks into me.
The pleasure I delayed roars back to life like a stoked fire. I drip for him, enough that I feel it sliding down my thighs. He hammers into me, his hands bruising my hips. Harsh panting fills the air and mingles with his groans. I fight to stay quiet.
"Scream for me," he demands.
I shake my head. He slams me into the table.
"Have I not proven myself?" he roars. "What more do you need? Should I drag you into the throne room and fuck you just like this?"
The pleasure rebounds, redoubles, crests. I open my mouth and-
-shoot up in bed, soaked with sweat. I blink. Where am I?
A few rays of morning sun peek through the gaps in my canopy. My wrist aches dully, but only when I focus on it. I wear my nightgown, though it seems to have rucked up around my thighs. And I am very much alone.
Yesterday, at lunch, Anwen grabbed my wrist and asked me to stay. I reminded him I was a foreign royal and left with Tess because the thought of a moment alone with him sickened me.
Everything else was a dream.
I shove out of bed quickly, leaving the canopy drawn so I don't have to face any mess I made. In the real world, I was strong. That is all that matters.
Perhaps, by the time I go downstairs for breakfast, the nausea churning in my gut will believe that.