Queen of Blood and Vengeance (Secrets of the Faerie Crown #4)

62. Arran

62

ARRAN

Sleeping without her was impossible. I kept close watch on that golden thread between us, monitoring its strength. It was steady, which meant she had not gone far. But despite the visceral need in my chest, building with every breath, I did not reach out to her with my mind or try to follow the connection to find her.

I was being selfish and I knew it.

But how could she even ask it of me… to sit by and watch her give her life… and do nothing .

A better husband would have held her hand and supported her. I could have asked how she was feeling and held her while she cried. But I did not need to ask—I could feel her as easily as I felt myself. Veyka did not want to die.

Yet she was willing to, because that was the cost demanded by the power in her veins and the prophecy made thousands of years ago in Avalon, by a priestess who’d been too cowardly to choose life for herself.

Fuck prophecies.

Fuck all of it.

I stopped myself just short of charging out of the tent to find her.

Be what she needs. At least for tonight.

I forced myself to undress and climb between the furs of our bedroll. Then I forced myself to wait. It was fucking agony. There was absolutely no sleeping. Not without her. I recalled those nights I’d slept alone in Eilean Gayl, my faulty memory robbing me of precious nights I should have spent sheathed inside of Veyka.

I rolled to my back, my traitorous cock lifting the bedsheets up and away from my body. Ancestors, I needed her. Not just physically, though that demand was growing with the minute. But I needed her soul wrapped around mine, her words warm in my ear.

It was too much to resist. Maybe if I took the edge off now, I’d be able to think beyond my own selfish physical desires when she did come to me. My fingers gripped the base of my cock, stroking up to the tip and back down again in a motion I’d perfected over the last three hundred years.

As I stroked myself, I thought of her.

Those leather leggings she wore beneath everything now that it was winter were absolute torture. The revealing gowns she’d worn in Baylaur were bad enough, but to see that leather gripping her thighs, curving around her ass? I was jealous of fabric. Ancestors, how was that even possible? And her hair… I’d enjoyed wrapping the waist-length braid around my wrist and yanking her head back when I had first fucked her. But now the ends were just long enough that they brushed her nipples. Even when clothed, all she had to do was move, the ends of her moon-white hair swishing, and all I saw in my mind was the dusky pink of her nipples begging for my mouth.

I was going to come hard and fast. My fingers pinched the tip of my cock, trying to slow the building pressure. My balls were already throbbing with need. I imagined how Veyka would drag her tongue over them, sucking one into her mouth while she palmed the other—

The tent flap opened. A second later, the scent of plum and primrose reached me.

My grip on my cock tightened by reflex, but I forced my fingers to relax. I couldn’t do much about the arousal; my body was vividly aware of her closeness as she moved through the tent in near silence. But my ears and mind were attuned to every sound. The heavy thump was her boots dropping to the ground. The supple slide was leather as she pulled down her leggings—then a little mewl of annoyance as her foot tangled in one of the legs. The diaphanous material of her gown whispered against her skin as she peeled it away.

Last was her jewelry. Cyara had wrapped and packed it carefully, and Veyka put it to good use, bedecking herself as a queen should. The metal of bracelets and armbands jangled against one another. The soft click of a necklace being shed. Another little growl of frustration as the small diadem she’d worn tangled in her hair. She’d leave her earrings. She always left her earrings.

I lifted my hand to touch the one in my own ear. A single amorite stud to protect me from the succubus. Veyka had traced it with her tongue more times than I could count.

The furs lifted, a quick cool breeze sneaking in ahead of Veyka, but it would have taken all the snow in the Spine to cool my ardor. She settled herself on her back, kicking her legs to untangle the blankets, stretching her arms overhead and bringing her nipples close enough to my mouth that my beast began to growl. Which made my wife take even longer.

Cruel princess.

She laughed, low and sensuous, the heat of her breath filling the space between us as she rolled to her side, pressing her body against my hip. I noted the weight of her breast as it settled onto my chest, the soft rolls of her stomach where they curved around my hipbone. And the soft mound of her pussy, already hot against my skin.

“You’ve started without me,” she purred. “Were you worried I wouldn’t come back?”

It was dark, but I fucking heard her licking her lips. Ancestors, save me.

My hand was still on my cock. I tried to pull it away, but Veyka caught my wrist, encircling my fingers with her smaller ones.

“I hope you were thinking of me,” she breathed against my throat, stopping just short of grazing the stubble with her lips. This female was going to kill me.

“You are all I think about.”

She rewarded me by dragging our hands up the length of my cock.

“Tell me, Arran. Tell me what you thought of while you touched yourself.” She was already breathless as she made the demand.

Cruel, cruel princess.

“These,” I leaned over and nipped her breast, cursing the angle that prevented me from reaching her nipple. “So round and full, especially now that you’re eating properly again. I imagined burying my face in them and licking every inch of your skin until your nipples are hard enough to slice.”

Those same nipples hardened against my skin where she pressed into me.

I thrust into our next stroke.

“More,” Veyka urged.

Ancestors, I’d been close before she even came into the tent. Another minute, and I’d spill myself all over our blankets.

“You were taking off your leggings, and all I could think about was how unfair it is that they hide you from me all day. I want to watch your muscles contracting and the wobble of that round ass of yours as you walk through camp, demanding worship like the goddess you are.”

She ground her pussy against my hip as she guided my hand up and down, up and down. A feral little whimper escaped her lips. She was just as tortured as me.

“More,” she demanded.

I’d give her more. I’d give her every last drop of me.

“I was wondering how I could give you what you need, agonizing over it. But I know what you need, Veyka. You need my cock buried inside of you, stretching and filling you until you don’t know where I end and you begin. You need to forget every name, every word, every worry but me. Until I am the only thing in your body and your mind. I know exactly what you need, Princess.”

“Arran,” she moaned, her hips grinding in time with her hand.

“I’m going to come all over you, Princess.” It was the only warning she’d get. She answered by covering my mouth with hers, pouring herself down my throat with a vigor matched only by her hand.

I came apart in powerful spurts that coated her hand, my cock, the juncture of my hips. Veyka stroked me through it, thrusting her hips in time with my orgasm until I collapsed onto the bedroll in sticky mess of my own exhaustion.

I only needed a minute, and then I would repay her in kind.

But my wicked princess did not give me a minute. She lifted her soaked hand to her mouth and began to lick my spend from her fingers one by one in long, loud sucks.

The next sound was the thump of her back hitting the bedroll. Her hips were wide and full beneath mine, a perfect match for the long lines of my own body. I’d fill that time I needed to recover well.

I plunged my fingers into her, the wet heat of her pussy and the come coating my fingers more than enough lubrication. Veyka arched her back, a feral moan echoing beyond the linen constraints of our tent for the entire terrestrial army to hear.

Yes, my queen, let them hear the sounds of your pleasure , my beast growled. My mouth was too busy for words now that I had full access to her breasts. The hand that was not pounding into her pussy cupped one breast, pinching the nipple up to my waiting lips. I circled it once with my tongue before sucking it between my teeth, nipping hard enough to elicit another cry of pleasure from Veyka. She was such a magnificent creature, my mate. She did not hesitate to be exactly who and what she was. She did not hide herself from the world or apologize. She let them hear me worshipping her because she knew that she deserved it.

Already her pussy started to pulse. Torturing me had driven her to the edge as well.

I curled my fingers inside of her, over that textured cluster of nerves that ornamented her inner walls. Once more. Then I withdrew my hand, coated now in the mingled nectar of both our pleasure.

Veyka’s next cry was followed by a string of reproachful curses, but I only smiled.

My cock was ready.

Pulling away from her was a physical pain, but I took the two desperate steps to the free-standing lamp a yard from the bedroll. I’d never envied elemental powers until that moment, when I could have stayed with my hand buried inside her pussy and simultaneously lit fire in the lamp.

“Brutal… fucking… prince,” she huffed, rising up on her forearms.

I grabbed her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bedroll. The wooden platform of our bed was a definite improvement to sleeping on the ground. Now we’d see just how sturdy it was.

The fire I’d lit in the lamp flickered, throwing undulating light across the tent. But I could see her pussy clearly, and that was all that mattered. I watched as my own fingers dipped to spread her pussy lips, my other hand curled around the base of my cock as I guided myself to her entrance.

She was watching, too. Braced on her forearms, we watched together as her pussy lips stretched around my cock, taking the head and then resisting. A low growl built in my chest as I pressed forward, past the slight resistance until my shaft started to disappear into her as well.

Veyka’s sharp inhale, the desperate sound she made as I slid in that last inch, was almost enough to make me come again. I slid my gaze up her body, savoring the sight of her stomach, curled up into rolls of delicious soft flesh as she leaned forward to watch me take her. Then her breasts, wobbling with each shaking breath. She was so desperate for me, she didn’t even meet my eyes at first. She was too busy rolling her hips, fitting me in as tight as she could, hungry for every tiny fraction of an inch I had to give.

“Such a needy thing,” I murmured, watching her watching us.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the blue rings of desire burning bright enough to light the tent all on their own. “I will always need you.”

She held my gaze for another second, then she planted her hand on my chest and shoved me backward. I hadn’t even realized that I’d leaned forward, so eager to be close to her. But the demand was clear. She wanted to watch.

I hooked my arms under her knees so I could fuck her harder.

Every stroke into her was better than the last. Then I withdrew, saw my cock glistening with her juices, and I took her again. The tension was building with every beat of our hearts in time with our thrusts. Veyka slid her hand between us, touching her swollen clit. I tried to reach for her to do it myself, but she shoved my hand away, returning it to where it had gripped her thigh. She’d have marks in the morning from my fingertips, but I knew we’d both look on them with pleasure.

She arched against me, her eyes flickering closed. She was close—so close she’d almost forgotten.

“Watch me come inside of you, Veyka,” I ordered. “Do you see how your pussy takes me, every inch? I can’t…”

Fuck, I was losing control. I tried to hold it back, but it was impossible. I ground myself into her, my thrusts turning small and desperate, my orgasm completely taking over all other thoughts.

Veyka threw back her head, her fingers stilling over her clit as she whimpered through her own climax.

I lost control.

Veyka’s response to that thought was a low, sultry laugh that I felt in the corners of my mind and warm against my skin.

Maybe she’d already realized what I hadn’t until that moment. With Veyka, I was never in control.

“Veyka? Veyka, can you hear me?”

It was still dark outside.

“Go away,” Veyka groused, burrowing deeper against my chest. My beast growled in agreement, but I ignored him.

It took me several seconds to orient myself. My battle axe was in my hand before I’d even consciously thought about grabbing it, three hundred years of battle and bloodshed conditioned to a point beyond thinking.

But there was no disturbance outside our tent. The camp was quiet—as quiet as an army camp ever was.

“Arran?”

Not Veyka, but another female voice. And it was not coming from outside the tent, but within. From where Veyka had tossed her clothing over the camp chair in the corner before coming to bed. I followed the faint white light, my heart stuttering and tripping over itself while I dug through the folds of her gown to find the communication crystal.

It shined brightly in my hand, the glowing white length pulsing with magic.

I lifted it closer to my face. “Have you found it?”

Several beats of silence. “Yes.”

The world stopped.

The human realm, Annwyn, the Split Sea, any others that existed. Everything stopped. The only thing that mattered was that one word, this one moment in time, this one answer.

My entire chest filled with light. Bright, moon-white hope.

The bedsheets rustled behind me, the wooden platform groaning. I turned, lifting my palm so that the white glow of the communication crystal shone into the space between us. Veyka sat in the bed, the lines of her dimples and rolls of soft skin silhouetted by that pale glow.

“Yes,” Cyara said again. “I have the grail.”

I looked to Veyka, expecting her to say something. But she shook her head.

She had no words. But I could speak for us both. In the moments before we’d fallen asleep, she’d whispered what Mya had confided in her. “We are going to Avalon.”