Chapter 25

Part of me had wanted to discount as a fever dream what had happened between the five of us. I'd been off my head on roseblood, so of course my skin had felt like it was seared by their touch, of course every tiny caress created thrills of pleasure through my body. It had been the drug, not them, surely.

I was about to find out how wrong I'd been.

I only opened the door to placate Creed. No, that wasn't true. When I heard his low growl, I'd felt a thrill of something I'd dismissed since the other night. He was the big, bad wolf at my door pawing to get in, and my hands had moved of their own accord to open it. I hadn't expected him to push the door wide, to step in and herd me back, those hazel eyes of his gone yellowish green.

I'd drugged them all so that I could keep my guards off balance, to allow for my escape, but… To see all his sensual intensity directed at me, not some girl below, it had made me back away because I knew I should, not because I wanted to.

He was so huge, but Creed seemed even bigger now, as if the beast and he fought to co-exist. I'd traced those powerful shoulders with my eyes, caught the creak of his leather armour as it struggled to contain the flex of his biceps. I couldn't help but let my eyes slide lower, catching just how big he was everywhere.

The beast men were renowned for their… size, in all matters. Women tittered over the fact at court while men used it to dismiss them as little more than semi-sentient animals. But I… I should've been terrified by the long, thick lump there. He was so big, and I was…

So small.

"And what?" he'd asked, a wicked smile on his face as he looked at my bed, as if he knew exactly what wanton acts I might be preparing to perform between the sheets. "What're you going to do in your little bed, all alone?"

Nothing: that was what my intention had been. I'd planned to rumple the sheets so that it would look like I was in the privy if someone dared stick their head into the room. But the minute he'd said the words, memories of the other night were summoned. I'd tried to steer my thoughts away from it, but my mind was drawn back by what we'd done, what he'd done, like a tongue to a sore tooth. How Creed had been gentle, sweet, holding me tenderly as he did terrible, wonderful, things to me, over and over until I couldn't come anymore.

I lifted my hands to push both the memory and him away, but his claw-tipped fingers wrapped around my wrists.

The prick of his claws was a reminder of sorts, of the animalistic nature of not just him but all of us. The beast men just seemed more honest about it all. I considered myself a case in point. In one day, I'd gone from displaying an outer fa?ade to showing my inner reality. I'd started the day as a princess tightly trussed in a king's ransom of a gown, presenting myself as virginal and pure before all the court. But when I'd torn the dress away and Arik had helped cannibalise its components, I'd shifted: as surely as Creed did when he took fur.

And what had I become?

My gaze flicked down, taking in the way his claws gripped my pale skin, the sharp talons dimpling the surface but not breaking it. What would it be like? I guessed I wasn't the only noblewoman to wonder how the beast men differed from the men we saw at court. I wanted to reach out and touch Creed, to claw at his skin as he did at mine. And then, as if in response to my thoughts, he changed his grip, lifting my hand for his inspection.

"Will you slide these little hands up the insides of your bare thighs?" I gasped at the frank language because as soon as he said the words, I saw exactly what he mentioned. "The skin there is as soft and fine as angora. No, softer. I could've spent the entire night just touching it, stroking it back and forth and marvelling that another being could be that soft, but of course, I didn't. Because as I slid my hand closer to your core, it only got softer." His grin was that of a wolf, not a man, almost panting, tongue lolling. "Wetter too. So fucking wet—"

I flushed then, almost as red as he was, remembering my shame.

"I'm aware." I shook my head. "I know I behaved disgracefully."

"Not disgracefully." That gaze seemed to sharpen. "Beautifully." He moved in closer until my head was full of the clean, woody scent of him. "Your body undulates like the waves of the Iridescent Seas. Have you ever seen it?"

"I've never left Stormare."

But I wished I had, to see what he described.

"You need to. The waves, they glitter so brightly they make your eyes ache. Just like you do, lass. The water looks like a rainbow, a million colours and none at all playing over the surface as they rise and fall. You did that, on my lap, with my cock wedged tight against your arse as you rode my fingers, crashing into the sands, just like a wave, over and over. Your sighs were just like the hush of the ocean in my ears, and I never wanted to listen to another sound."

His words were crude. They described an act that no lady would willingly perform, and yet I leaned towards him, like a flower moves to follow the sun, wanting to hear more. He spoke of what we'd done with a kind of savage poetry that made me want to remember everything we'd done.

And re-experience it.

Dimly, a sensible part of my mind reminded me that Rion was waiting outside for me, ready to whisk me away from here, but perhaps that's what motivated me.

"Master Creed—"

"Just Creed." Something hard and desperate rose in his eyes, emotions that were the twin of mine. "Please, just Creed."

"Well, Creed…" I touched him then, needing to with an urgency that made me wonder if I'd drunk down some of the roseblood as well. Because the moment I touched his chest, opened the rest of the toggles of his jacket, and slid my hand inside, it felt like all the pretences, all of the masks I'd put on were stripped away, just leaving this.

Need.

I tried to tell myself I'd find other men, another man who'd be just as alluring. One far from here who'd protect me from my family, the King of Khean, and the whole world. He'd be a bulwark between me and my enemies, keeping me safe for the rest of my life.

That's what I wanted, needed with every breath, and it hurt deep inside that Creed was the one escorting me towards danger, not away from it. Because in another life, one where the world wasn't ruled by insanely dangerous men who married women just to kill them, we might've been something very different to each other. My hands went around Creed's neck, my fingers running through his silken hair because Rion could wait a little longer. I'd distract Creed, that's how I'd rationalised things, leave the man hazy with satisfied lust, making it easier for me to slip away.

But it was more than that.

If I couldn't have Creed in reality, then I'd snatch what I could right now.

"Perhaps it's my turn to please you," I said, the fact this was a farewell allowing me to be bold.

Then I sank to my knees, bowing down before this moment, right before I'd run from it. Creed couldn't allow that. He'd never let me kneel when he stood, his hand gripping my arm, stopping me midway, before he picked me up and tossed me onto the armchair.

"You first," he growled. "Always you first, lass, because you're…"

His throat worked, because he had his secrets too, but we both kept them. I felt that in his kisses, his beard prickling my skin with each one as I began to shift restlessly, just like the waves he'd described. My body came alive the higher he got, that same ache starting up inside me, forcing me to long for something I didn't even understand quite yet. Then he rumbled, "Need to taste you, lass." His mouth hovered over my most intimate skin, his breath fanning over sensitive flesh. "Need you on my tongue. Need—"

"Yes…" I hissed, mostly to myself, before pulling his head to where I ached most.