It’s happening again.
Dream-walking, they called it.
I do not know where I am, but my feet move, seeming to know where to go. The marble is cold under my bare feet and a silken robe a silken robe slides like water against my skin.
The walls around are familiar, though, I know I’ve never been here before. I know who waits beyond the black oaken doors. My hand pushes them open, though my body moves without my will, every step drawn out, languid, sultry.
He lifts his head from the scrolls scattered across the table, a slow smile curving his lips as violet-tinged eyes rake over .
It is then I notice that I am not in my body, either. This body is taller, fuller, dressed in little more than straps ant to reveal, not conceal. My nipples harden in the cool air; my breasts swell, gleaming with scented oils that perfu my skin.
I feel different. Old as death, like the world is but a rubble that belongs underneath my feet and I exist to rule it.
But I know these are not my feelings. I am a passenger in soone else’s mories.
Still, it shouldn’t feel this way. Like I am reliving a day in so past life. Like... if I could just extend my hand and reach for the shelf on the left, I’ll find the sword my prince keeps hidden in the dark.
"Ilya."
I fall into a deep curtsy, chest lowering, and my lips curve into a smile when I feel the heat of his gaze entrapped on my cleavage, lingering. "My Prince." Shivers erupt over my skin as I raise my head to et his darkened, hungry eyes. "You did not co to bed. I thought... I might check before the night grew lonely."
A silver brow arches. "Dressed like that?" His chuckle skitters over my skin, soft as his caresses and just as intrusive as his mouth when he fucks with it. He rises from his desk and makes his way over to until his s fingers cups my cheek. "Tell why you are truly here. What does my princess wish to coax from ? You know I cannot deny you when you co to like this."
I drag my tongue across my lower lip, watching his eyes track the motion. "Don’t go."
His hand falls and he turns away from . "We’ve been over this, Ilya. Do not try to change my mind. Do not plead with on this. You know how it wounds to refuse you."
I sink to my knees before him, clutching his thigh. "We cannot trust them! They’ve hunted us for as long as we’ve lived. They’ve killed my brothers, murdered our parents. We do not strike bargains with devils. Nothing good cos from it. It is a trap!"
My Prince’s violet gaze hardens. "This is sothing I must accomplish, Ilya. My ancestors failed at it and it has led to the deaths of so many. I cannot push it back just because you plead with to. The lives of thousands rest upon this treaty."
I sigh. What my prince wants, he gets. There is no changing his mind when he sets his sight onto sothing. I just wish he wasn’t so naïve.
The thoughts slam into with several other feelings of frustration and a sliver of fear. The woman piloting my body trails her hands up his calves. "Then, take with you."
The Prince shakes his head, silky hair tickling my skin. "You are with child. I will not risk you--"
"I can fight!" I snap, annoyance ripping through . "Cease treating like I am fragile. I am heir of House Blackspire. The flas in my veins burn just as hot as my rage does. I am fire to your ice, and you are the steel that funnels my rage. Wherever you go, I follow. It has always been our bond."
His jaw locks, the muscle jumping. "Do not challenge on this, Ilya. You will remain. I will not hear another word of this."
The Prince turns his back on . On us. It has beco difficult to separate her emotions from mine and I feel the grief in her like it is mine. Tears sting my eyes. "Do you rember what you said to when you abducted from my father’s castle?"
Slowly, he faces again. The hardness in his gaze softens. "That you were the only woman who could bring to my knees. That you need only ask for the world, and I would place it at your feet, if you would consent to be my Queen." His lips tilt in a fond smile. "You answered by breaking my nose and calling a pig."
A smile ghosts across my lips. I step close, hand pressed to his chest, feeling the steady thrum beneath my palm. "Then hear now. I accept. I will be your Queen." His breath catches, nostrils flaring, but I do not stop. "And as your Queen, I demand the world you promised . Set it at my feet. Do not leave ."
I see the war in his eyes, the tremor in his muscles. So I rise on my toes and press my lips to his.
His reaction is instant. He never could refuse or resist the taste of my lips. A groan rumbles from his chest as his mouth slants over mine, crushing closer by the back of my neck.
The desk rattles when he lifts onto it, scrolls scattering, glass shattering. His hands sear my thighs, dragging back the straps of silk as I rip his red tunic in half, baring his chest and tug him free of his breeches.
I--She--Oh gods, I think as a hand slips between my legs and strums against expertly like he is plucking the strings of his favourite instrunt.
My head drops back and my eyes shut as my hips buck, grinding hard against him, seeking to bring him to my entrance.
And then, he drops to his knees, dragging my hips to the edge of the table, and my soft moan echoes in the chambers as he drapes my legs over his shoulders.
"Spread your pussy for ," he murmurs darkly.
No. I do not want to see any more of this, I scream into the woman’s head, at the universe, but instead, my hand glides down, fingertips brushing against his as I begin... stroking myself. The purr that slips from is diabolical, sothing from the very pits of hell.
In tandem to my strokes, my prince pushes two fingers deep inside , and curls.
My eyes roll back in my head, a ragged cry leaving my lips.
"Move your hips for , love," he croons, and I obey him, lips parting, breath breaking as I rock back and forth against those fingers spreading apart. He nods in encouragent, watching where his fingers sink into , again and again, my wetness trickling down his fingers.
His pupils dilate, eyes begining to glow iridescently. Gold. Violet. Black. Beautifully undone. The beast in him calls to to collect his due and when he reaches to press his face against , I don’t object.
The beast in him rattles in his chest as his tongue glides over , drinking from his well of desire. He sucks and nips on my clit, forcing a cry of pain from , but he soothes with his tongue and repeats the action again. And again.
"Luke," I breathe, pain bleeding into pleasure, and pleasure into sothing darker.
I don’t know where she ends and where I begin. I don’t know where he ends and where she begins.
But I feel the quake in the earth. In my bones as I reach the precipice of sothing impossible. An ecstacy that flees from the faster I chase it.
And just when I finally have it within reach, the doors slam open behind us and a benign roar ejects from the mory.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!"
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