Ch. 3: A Night of Pleasure

LORCAN

Cries of outrage come from behind us. I’m staring at the king in both shock and horror, trying to decipher why he would prosecute Amberly when surely he knows that the Witch Queen was not all that innocent. That an entire court’s word is not enough.

Amberly has gone entirely white. “Your Majesty—”

“I will not be stuck arguing with a woman,” he says, and something clicks inside my head. “The punishment is decided, and you shall live out your sentence—”

“You’re threatened,” I snarl at him. The king raises his brows at me.

“Pardon?”

“Amberly. You’re threatened by Amberly. You know what the Witch Queen has done and yet you choose to turn a blind eye to it, so that you have an excuse to lock Amberly away.”

The king’s face falters for a moment before resuming that cool facade. “Lord Equinox, you are not implying that I am sexist—”

“You did not anoint your own mate as queen consort when you became king, even though it is her right.” At that, I point to a woman in the crowd, who, I now remember from old court gossip, is the king’s mate. “You have not even Claimed her despite siring several heirs with her. She should be sitting on the throne beside yours, but you have denied her that for years. It is obvious you cannot stand the thought of a woman being put on the same pedestal as you, let alone one being above you.”

His nostrils flare. “And how does that signify?”

“Because you know Amberly is above you. She is a Lightweaver. That is why you are locking her away.” I take a threatening step forward, thankful for my several inches of height over this man. “And you know that, in due time, she could smoke your ass while sleeping. She could smoke any Nightweaver’s fucking ass, and your fragile little man-ego can’t hack that.”

The king glowers at me, and uncomfortable murmurs start up among both courts.

“SILENCE!” he roars, and a dramatic quiet falls over the room. Then he turns to me, eyes glinting dangerously despite the smirk on his lips. “Those are mere speculations, Equinox. You cannot change the fact that she has killed the late Witch Queen, and that therefore makes her a traitor to the Crowns. Truly, she should be executed for what she has done, but I am deciding to be merciful.”

I snarl at him. “Fine. Then I challenge you to the Crown.”

A wave of gasps ripples around the room, followed by anxious murmurs.

Amberly clutches my arm. “Lorcan—”

“Do you wish to repeat that, Lord?” the king sneers. I bare my teeth at him.

“I said, I challenge you to the Crown.”

“This will be a fight to the death,” he spits. “I am certain you are in no state to do that, given you were on death’s door just several days ago.”

“Then you underestimate me.”

There is a moment of tense silence as we stare each other down. Then, after what feels like an eternity of glaring, he dips his chin.

“So be it. State your requests now or forever remain silent.”

A wicked grin captures my lips, one that even has the Fae King tensing. “I request one night alone with Her Ladyship”—I grab Amberly’s hand and bring it to my lips—”in one of the best rooms your palace has to offer.” I take a step towards him, staring him down as I say, “We battle at noon.”

---

The seneschal—to his credit—managed to find us a bedchamber of rather large and lavish proportions despite the short notice. It’s a room of dark reds and smooth grays, with a large king-size bed in the middle.

Absolutely perfect.

The moment me and Amberly stagger inside and shut the door behind us, she whirls on me, eyes wide with terror.

“Lorcan,” she hisses. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I told you that if he hurts you, I’d kill him.” I storm over to the windows and draw the thick red curtains shut. “I am merely fulfilling that promise.”

Her back goes ramrod straight. “This is suicide—”

“You underestimate me too, do you?”

I turn back to her. She shakes her head fervently, white locks swaying. “No. Not at all. It’s just that you’ve only been recovering for three days. You still have much of your strength to replenish and your body is still very damaged from the curse. I know you are very strong, Lorcan, but to face the king right now? How will it ever work?”

I cross the distance in less than three strides and catch her hand in mine. I bring her fingers to my lips, eyes blazing with passion. “That is where you come in.”

“Me?” she whispers. I nod, tugging her forward and bracing my free arm around her back. She blinks up at me with those adorably round eyes.

I stare at her, and when the essence of her magic seeps into my skin my entire body lights up in response. I push some of my magic back into her, watching her pupils dilate with that muted excitement. It feels so good to be able to magic-share with her, to feel it build my strength up, brick by brick.

I bring my mouth to her ear. “How do you feel about a night of pleasure?”

“Pleasure?” she echoes, her voice sounding every bit as strained as mine. I nibble on the pointed tip of her ear, teasing a soft moan from her chest.

“Pleasure for you, until you can hardly breathe and all you’re seeing is stars.”

“Lorcan… you could die tomorrow, and you’re saying you want to fuck me?”

“That is precisely what I’m saying,” I breathe into her ear. “That is, of course, if you want me to fuck you.”

She closes her eyes, body shuddering in the way it always does when mine is near. I love the effect I have on her. “I do. I really do. I’m just worried about what will happen to you tomorrow, Lorcan. I’m scared for you.”

“Just trust me, lionheart. I’m going to win the fight tomorrow. I have a plan.” I interlace my fingers with hers. “Do you trust me?”

She swallows thickly, and I begin walking her back towards the wall. “I…I…” She opens her eyes, staring straight into mine. “Yes, Lorcan, I do. I trust you with my whole heart.”

Her back hits the wall, and I capture her lips in a searing kiss that sets my whole body aflame. She kisses back with equal fervor, shaking fingers rushing to undo the buttons of my shirt just as I fumble to undo hers. Within seconds we’re both topless and breathing frantically, trembling as fingers run over flesh and lips turn to teeth and moans.

Trailing kisses down her jaw, I haul her up by the waist and her legs wrap vice-like around me. She sucks and nibbles on my neck feverishly, marking me just as I have marked her many times before, and a groan of need erupts from my chest. I have to be inside of her. Now.

I walk her to the bed and set her down with aching gentleness even though I want nothing more than to rip her remaining clothes off and thrust myself inside of her. Instead, I force my movements to something slow, delicate, needing to savor every moment of this.

The moment I climb on top of her, she spears for my belt and has it off within seconds. Panting, grunting, I grab her pants and yank them down, exposing her bare mound to me. We kick off our underwear and within no time at all, we’re both naked and aching with desire.

I glide my pulsating length over her warm folds, aching to penetrate the entrance that seems so damn inviting. She gasps and moans with need, but I continue to touch her, tease her—tease myself, really. She’s everything I’ve always wanted and everything I’ll ever want.

“Lorcan…” she moans, and that undoes me. I claim her with one powerful thrust, her walls clenching vice-like around me, and a loud moan tears from her throat. Her walls shudder and squeeze with a sultry heat that renders me breathless and heady, and I find myself moaning at how damn good it feels.

If I don’t pace myself, I’ll finish before she does, and I cannot allow that to happen. I need to take it nice and slow, even though my every male fiber urges me to fuck her rough and fill her up completely.

I lean down and capture her lips in mine as my hips start in that ancient, urgent rhythm. Mewls and moans spill from her mouth, and I find myself gritting my teeth as the noises invade my mind.

She takes my dick so well. So damn well. It only makes me that much harder for her.

The clenching of her silky walls becomes more forceful with every stroke that I nudge her toward oblivion, and a tortured groan erupts from my chest. Fuck, it’s going to be hard not to cum. Almost fucking impossible, but I must deny myself this release. I must.

“Lorcan,” she whimpers, and her whiny tenor tells me exactly what she wants. I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze, and despite her entire body locking up in response, she’s grinning, throwing her head back in utmost pleasure.

I drill harder into her. She fucking loves when I dominate her. In all other aspects of life, we’re equals, and even then we silently acknowledge that she will beat me in power one day. But here, in the bedroom, she’s mine. Mine to love, mine to pleasure, mine to dominate. And when she has me all to herself like this, she gets to be as bratty as she likes, all formal titles and due respects aside.

And I love it. I love fucking my bratty little mate into submission. She loves it.

I lower my mouth to her ear, breathing in that heady sugar scent. The slickness of her arousal is everywhere—down her thighs, on the sheets, plastered to my groin. She is so fucking wet for me that it’s hard to think, to so much as string a cohesive sentence together.

“Enjoying yourself, lionheart?” I growl, pressing a furious kiss to her temple. She jerks a nod.

“Yes.” Her voice is needy and raspy, and it awakens some strange beast within me, one that only seems to come out around her.

“I’m going to kill a king for you.” I kiss her tenderly, lovingly—completely at odds with the words tumbling out of my mouth. “I’m going to give you his head as a trophy and then make you my queen. Then I am going to fuck you like one. Understand?”

“Yes.” Her body stiffens, tightening the dangerous coil in my gut. She’s close. I can feel it in the way her walls have tightened around me, how her breaths come rapid and shallow. “My god, yes—”

I press my hand to her stomach and adjust my angle, the head of my cock ramming against the entrance of her cervix. She cries out in pleasure, tears pooling in her eyes as violent jolts wrack her body.

I used to worry that my dick hurt her, but she assured me many times that this is the best part, her favorite part. How this gives her the best combination of pain and pleasure. So, I drive into her with no restraint.

“Lorcan!” she cries, and I force myself to pull out. I keep my body pressed to hers as she convulses beneath me, sobbing and moaning as the waves of her orgasm consume her. All the while, I keep my dick pressed to her stomach, grounding myself, urging myself not to cum, even though I feel so damn close with her moaning my name like that. Like I am the only man who has ever made her feel this good.

And, although it sounds egotistical, I know I most definitely am.

I stay there for several seconds, waiting for the coil inside my belly—the one that was so close to snapping—to steadily unwind. When I finally have enough control of myself to look up at her, she’s staring at me curiously—eyes rounded and cheeks flushed with the ecstasy of sex.

She blinks at me. “Are you not going to—?”

I cut her off with a searing kiss, willing that coil in my stomach to untangle. “I told you I had a plan, didn’t I?”

She smiles against my mouth. My erection strains, growing so hard it is almost painful, but I force myself to ignore it as I drag her up and press her to my stomach.

“Come on,” I growl into her ear. “Let’s go take a shower.”

Her eyes grow wide with that pure, glowing excitement that always turns me on. “Lorcan…” she hisses, as though someone is listening in. “You’re not seriously going to fuck me again, are you?”

My only reply is a smile, and she bursts out with giggles as I grab her hand and drag her towards the ensuite. We both tumble into the white-tiled shower and I instantly knock the water to freezing, shocking my body and undoing the burning coil in my groin entirely.

She gasps as the coldness hits her. Then I twist her around and press her front to the tiled wall, her perfect body bared to mine.

I take a long moment to admire it, my dick straining despite the freezing water striking my shoulders. Everything about her is perfect. So fucking perfect.

I brace both hands upon her waist.

“Hands against the wall, lionheart,” I growl, and she does so within an instant. I rub my length against her wet folds, warm and swollen from her previous orgasm. She gasps in delight. “You’re going to need the extra support.”

I claim her with one powerful thrust, her throbbing walls wrapping around me as I pump in and out. She’s screaming my name, and before I know it she’s coming undone all over again and I have to pull out, stepping into the icy cascade behind me.

We fuck like that for hours—me pounding inside of her as she cums all over my dick, again and again, always forcing myself to pull away at the last moment. We take rests in between, having short naps on the king-size bed, before we wake up and go at it again.

And at the end of the night, when she is finally spent and her face is painted in the perfect picture of serene pleasure, I’m grinning to myself. Because, by the time morning comes, my body is thrumming with a violent energy, and the familiar aggression that I’ve only known a couple of times in my life burns under every inch of my skin. Because by denying myself the release, I have gone into Heat.

And now, I am more than ready to kill a king