Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(3)



Adrian’s fingers dug into my skin, and he guided me until my back hit the wall where he pinned my wrists so he could kiss me uninhibited, lips tracing a path to my breasts, which he lavished with attention. Even through the fabric of my nightdress, the teasing was exquisite, and my hands were soon free to rake through his hair and drag his mouth back to mine.

Between us, Adrian untied his robe and hiked my shift up before lifting my leg, cradling the back of my knee over his arm, his erection pressed into my heat. I sucked in a sharp breath, my head falling back on a moan, exposing my neck, where he kissed and nipped at my skin, his voice a heady rumble.

“I love the way you taste,” he said, grinding into me until I felt too hollow, too empty.

“I need you inside me,” I said, my hands on his shoulders, ready to give him the leverage he needed to cure my desperation. “Give me your come and you can have my blood.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, Sparrow. I will fill you to bursting.”

Our position against the wall did not give me the opportunity to watch as he guided himself inside me, but I felt him, exhaling as he slid deeper and began to thrust. I couldn’t catch my breath as each wave of pleasure rose higher than the last. I was drowning in this and I never wanted to resurface.

“Isolde,” Adrian said, and I opened my eyes. He stared back, gaze fierce and lustful. “Look at me.”

He cupped the back of my neck, his other hand pressed flat to the wall, and he moved deeper, ground against me harder. I lost control of my expression, my mouth caught between moans, grinding my teeth, and biting my lip. When the first keening cry bubbled from my lips, Adrian descended, his sharp teeth cutting into my skin.

I clung to him, nails digging into his flesh. He still moved inside me, but slower, timing the pull of his lips with the thrust of his hips. He drew back once to kiss my mouth before returning to the wound he’d made, and with the taste of my blood on my lips, I followed each wave of pain and pleasure until it dragged me into darkness.

***

I woke with the memory of how Adrian had filled me and fucked me and bit me, and I had ascended into something ethereal and divine—something that had taken me from sorrow to bliss. I wanted to go back, to reclaim that power, but I was once more in this mournful body and confused.

How had I gotten to bed?

There was movement to my right, and I shifted to find Adrian standing near the window, bathed in the bloodred light of Revekka’s dawn. He wore armor that glinted gold and silver as he turned to look at me. He had pulled his hair back, and the angles of his face showed sharply, contoured by shadow.

He was fierce, frighteningly beautiful, and already bathed in red.

“Do you expect to be injured?” I asked as I sat up, pushing the blankets from my body, already feeling better without their weight. I had never seen Adrian wear armor, not when he came to claim my kingdom and not when we made our return to Revekka.

It startled me, and I had to work to swallow the panic that rose into my throat, knowing I could not protest his departure. This was necessary to the survival of our kingdom—to what Adrian had built and what we would continue to build together.

Adrian offered a small smile, as if he thought my concern was cute rather than valid.

“It’s merely a precaution,” he said. “I am no longer hunting mortals.”

Today he would search for Gesalac and Julian, whom Sorin had not been able to track beyond the borders of our land, which meant they were likely hiding, harbored by Revekkians. Or were they relying on the land for shelter until they could begin the next phase of their plan?

And what was that plan?

Of the two, I feared Gesalac more. He was the most outspoken and perhaps had the greatest vendetta against Adrian, as he had killed Gesalac’s son after I had grown annoyed by his continued harassment. I’d snapped when he’d touched me and drove a knife into his neck.

Adrian had finished the job.

Julian was less imposing, but he, like Gesalac, saw me as the enemy, and it was his opinion of me that had cost him his eye.

“Do you think you will find them?” I asked.

My lungs felt heavy in my chest, my breathing far too shallow.

I was afraid of what would happen if they managed to escape.

“Perhaps,” Adrian said. “They will likely seek refuge with kings whose petitions to become immortal I denied.”

Kings like Gheroghe of Vela, the slave king who conquered my mother’s people.

I rose to my feet.

“Can either of them sire vampires?” I asked.

“They can,” he said. “And they likely will.”

Under Adrian’s rule, only he held the authority to decide who became immortal. Anyone who disobeyed was executed, but Gesalac and Julian had signed their death warrants already. They had nothing to lose.

“What happens then?”

Adrian’s fingers tilted my chin as he answered, “I will kill them all.”

I should draw comfort from his confidence, and I had no doubt he would exact revenge, but would it come too late?

Adrian drew me from my thoughts with a kiss, a soft brush of his lips before he pulled me close. With our bodies pressed together, there was a shift in his behavior and his tongue drove into my mouth, hand tightening into my hair, knee coaxing my willing thighs apart. A moan caught in my throat as the friction of our bodies sparked a fever in my blood, filling, tightening, drenching.

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