The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(25)

Amid the anger, something primal stirs. My stomach clenches and my teeth ache. Callum’s face is close to mine, and I let that strong face, those bright green eyes, push out any thoughts of Blake and what I would like to do to him.

Now the lunar eclipse is over, the half-moon shines through the window and casts light onto the side of his face. His palm grips the side of my neck, gentle but firm. He pushes his forehead against mine and his skin is burning. “Fuck. I can’t. . . I can’t handle this, Rory. I said I would wait until after the full moon. I told myself I’d wait. But I need you.”

I need him too. I need him to be rough with me, strong with me. I need him to rattle my uneasy soul, and give me something to focus my rage onto. I need to release this storm that’s building inside me before I march back up the mountain to find Blake, and throttle the despicable bastard. I need him to push away all thoughts of that snake’s glinting devious eyes, and his mouth at my throat, and my blood on his teeth.

I put my palm on his cheek. “Take me, then.”

A low groan sounds in his throat. He captures my mouth with his, and kisses me deeply, tenderly. I pull him closer to me, and wrap my legs around his waist. “My control is thin tonight. My wolf presses against my skin as if you are the moon, and it does not like that another male bit you. I fear I will lose myself and bite you, too.”

“You won’t do that.”

“You don’t know that.” He swallows, hard. “We need to do things my way, tonight, or not at all. Can you agree to that, for me?”

“I can handle it. I can handle you.”

“Rory, please.” His voice is strained. I stroke his cheek and nod.

He slides his hands beneath my thighs, and picks me up. He stalks across the room, places me gently on the mattress, then removes his clothes. He crawls over me. His face looms above mine and his warm breath tickles my lips. “If you feel the fever, if you need me to stop—”

“I won’t.”

His gaze darkens. “You must tell me.”

I nod, then bite my bottom lip. Heat flushes my face. “If you’re worried about losing control, I could always. . . well. . . I could be in control.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and some of the darkness leaves his expression. “As much as I would like to have you ride my cock, Princess, I need to be in charge tonight.” He blinks, almost apologetically. “A wolf thing.”

There is a question in his eyes. I don’t think I could deny him anything right now. I incline my head. He shifts down my body, planting a kiss between my breasts, then on the soft skin of my torso. I breathe in sharply as the flames that flicker inside me build. He kneels as he slides my bunched up dress down my legs, his knuckles scraping my thighs, then tosses the fabric onto the floor. His hands are shaking, slightly, as he unfastens my boots and throws them aside.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“Trying to restrain myself.” He offers me a sheepish grin. “I’ll be okay, momentarily.”

He slips my underwear off, exposing me to him, and releases a shuddery breath. He dips his head, and without warning, drags his tongue over me. I make an embarrassing noise and clench the sheets as his growl fills our bedchambers. “Fuck. You taste like you’re ready for me, Princess.”

“I. . .I am.”

Crawling over me, he rests one forearm on the pillow by my head, and nudges my thighs further apart with his knee. Breathing deeply, expression strained and full lips wet, he guides himself to my entrance. He groans when he pushes inside. My back arches, and a soft cry escapes my lips at the delicious pressure, the pinch of pain. He pauses when he fills me completely, closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine to give me a moment to adjust to his size. He thrusts. It is deep and slow, and a rough grunt scrapes against his throat.

Sweat beads across my face as his scent floods my nostrils. I dig my fingers into the hard muscles of his back and kiss his neck. I need him harder. Faster. I curl my ankles around his back, and rock my hips against him.

He scrapes his teeth against the column of my throat and brings his mouth to my ear. “My way, remember, Princess?”

He moves tortuously slowly, drawing soft moans from my lips with each thrust. He’s trembling, and I know it’s because he’s holding himself back. I try to respect his wishes, I try to be gentle, but my hips move of their own accord, and my fingernails pierce his back. My teeth ache and there’s something wild within me that wants to tear into his flesh.

Bite. Bite. Bite.

I fear myself. I’m worried that if he doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll give in to this strange primal urge that is taking over me. Sweat beads on my brow as I suppress it, and the fever rises within.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please.”

He groans, and it’s like my plea snaps something within him. He thrusts harder, deeper, and reaches the place inside me that I need him to touch.

When his mouth falls to my shoulder, and his teeth press against my skin, and his shoulders shudder beneath my hands, I get the sense that the urge to bite has come over him too. He wrenches away and claims my mouth instead.

I’m lost to him. To the sound of the mattress creaking, and his shallow grunts, and the dominant, branding thrust of his tongue.

Tonight melts away. I’m no longer under threat from the king, or being bitten by Blake, or a pawn, once again, in a game between men. I’m free. I’m powerful. I’m here with Callum, taking pleasure from his powerful body, while he struggles to maintain control.