With a laugh, he slid under the covers and reached for me.
I joined him, kneeling on the bed by his side. "Hasn't Myst already done that? Somehow, I think the Court of Ice and Snow might appreciate someone in charge who isn't quite so adventuresome as I am."
"The Court of Ice and Snow has been dead since Myst murdered Tabera. I think the people of Winter just look forward to having someone sane in control." He slid up to a sitting position and reached out to take my hand in his. "Enough about politics. Come here. I need you."
And with that, I straddled his lap. Gazing into his face, I stroked the side of his cheek and brushed his hair back out of his face. A warmth began to steal through me, a heat sparking in my core.
Leaning in, I pressed my lips gently against his, at first only the lightest of pressures, but then my tongue stole between his lips, playing over his teeth, as love turned to lust and the sparks between my thighs blazed to life.
I ached for him, hungered for his touch, his passion, his kiss. All I could think about was how much I needed him inside me, how much I wanted to be at the mercy of his long, silken strokes. Moaning softly, I squirmed on his lap, the blanket between us an annoying impediment.
Grieve slid his hands around my waist, then cupped my butt, his fingers firm against my ass. He reached up with his left hand to brush his fingers against my breast, tracing light strokes across my nipple.
Gasping, I dropped my head back, exposing my throat—the most vulnerable thing I could do around one of the Vampiric Fae. But Grieve kept control. He squeezed my breast, then pinched the nipple so hard I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. The pain awakened my passion. Letting go, he leaned forward and tongued my breast, curling around the nipple as he sucked softly.
His erection pressed against the cover, and as I shifted, he pushed the comforter back to expose himself, hard and rigid beneath me. I squirmed, trying to aim so that he would slide inside me, but he took hold of my wrists and rolled me over, forcing me back on the bed as he knelt between my legs.
I let out a sharp cry as he kneed my legs apart. Grieve and I were not gentle together. Our passion filled both need and fury.
"Don't move," he said, hoarsely. And I obeyed, arms over my head against the pillows.
He backed up enough to fasten his mouth over my clit, and his tongue began to dance, rasping along the ripples and folds of my cunt. I grew slick and wet.
I wanted to hold his head, but when Grieve said, "Obey," I had learned to listen. "Please, may I move my arms?"
He looked up at me, his eyes sparkling in the dim light, and nodded.
I clutched his platinum hair as it fell between my fingers, the long strands like silk in my hands. Grieve moaned, his breath tickling me even as I came, sharp and quick, hard like ice. I was still pulsing from the rush as he slid up between my legs, but now it was my turn and I pushed him back, rising as he sprawled on his back. He was firm and erect, and the hungry look on his face made me want to tease him, to drive him to that point where there was no more question, where he had to take me down.
Leaning forward, my hair draping over my shoulders, I lowered myself to rest my mouth on the head of his cock. Slowly, one teasing inch after another, I slid down the length, letting its girth force my lips apart as I took him into my mouth.
Grieve let out a gasp as I stroked him with my tongue. He tasted like salted caramel and I closed my lips around him, increasing the suction as I took him in long strokes. He reached for my hair, sweeping it out of the way. I looked up at him, wanting him to see my lips fastened around his girth, and his eyes grew wide and luminous. Knowing he was watching sent me spiraling into another orgasm, and I let out a choked moan, lightly scraping my teeth along the ridges of his cock.
Grieve grunted, deep and throaty, then leaned forward, slid his hands beneath my arms, and dragged me up to face him. He cupped my chin in his hands, saying nothing, but then, slowly, the mood changed, became darker.
I knelt on the bed, resting back on my knees, as his gaze fastened on my face. His dark eyes were unblinking and he began to breathe harder. In the dim light, his razor teeth—needle sharp—gleamed. Never shifting his gaze from my face, he raised my wrist, staring at me through those heavily lidded eyes. I caught my breath as he lowered his lips to my skin, brushing his teeth along the inside of my wrist, just avoiding the artery. A thin red line welted up as he broke through the skin. He slowly licked the blood off, one long stroke after another as more of my life welled up through the wound.
The venom of his bite rushed through me like a white-hot flame of hunger. While I was now immune to the charm it cast, the feel of him feeding on me sent me reeling, and I came hard and quick yet again, letting out a sharp cry as Grieve smiled triumphantly.
And then he stopped and brought his lips to my own, and I tasted my own blood on his tongue as he quietly laid me back and finally slid inside me, filling me full with his cock, stretching me wide and making me ache with hunger. He began to move, slowly at first, then driving into me with long, steady strokes. The world seemed to hang in stasis. Time stopped as he fucked me.
I drifted, rising higher with each thrust, and then, suddenly, we were flying, together. All I could feel was his skin, his hunger, the pulse of his breath matching the beating of my heart as I gave him everything, losing myself as I fell into the dark stars of his eyes.
Grieve stiffened, moaning softly, and then, slowly, came to rest with his head on my breast. "I am your King," he whispered. "And you…you are my Queen."
I couldn't say a word, I was so exhausted and so satiated, but he snuggled me under the covers as I slipped into his embrace, resting on his outstretched arm.
"Sleep, my love. Tomorrow, we have so much to do."
And—too tired and relaxed for words—I kissed his lips, and fell into a deep, undreaming slumber.
I managed to wake up before my lady's maid showed up. Having a stranger insist on helping me dress made me uncomfortable, but it was just another aspect to being a queen that I was going to have to compromise on. I slipped out from beneath the quilt, taking care not to wake Grieve as I did so. I needed a little time by myself, and as long as I stayed within the realm of Summer, I should be safe.
I missed being high up—missed opening the window and being on the second story. Hell, I missed even having windows to open. Shrugging into a cloak, and not much else, I quickly padded through the Barrow. Most of the people who were up were servants and tradesmen and whoever it was that kept the palace running smoothly. I had pulled my hood over my head so no one would pay much attention to me, and before long, I stood at the edge of the Barrow, staring out into the early hours of Summer.
Inhaling a long, slow, deep breath, I shook off the feeling of claustrophobia. I honestly didn't like living underground and hoped to hell that the realm of Winter wouldn't have the same makeup. I needed windows. I needed the ability to look out and see trees. I needed the open sky.
As I raced toward the tree line, I heard someone behind me and whirled around. There, a sheepish grin on his face, was Check.