Page 116 of Dare

I closed my eyes, storing the word in a crevice of my heart. “Then tell me how you feel about me.”

After a spell, I opened my eyes to find Jeryn shaking his head. “I do not know how.”

My heart winced. He didn’t know how to express anything like this, anything beyond his experience. Aside from familial affection, he’d only know cruelty and coldness. But no passion or desire.

Yet despite the angry sex, this had meant more.

My breathless lips parted. I opened my mouth to say as much when Jeryn stiffened. “What the fuck?”

With our clothes shredded and our bodies still attached, the prince tapered his gaze on something in the distance. Flummoxed, I twisted in that direction.

Through the mist, a small ship was moored to one of the adjoining coves, the quarter deck visible from here. But although cliffs and trees blocked the vessel’s figurehead, I spotted the most important part. Flapping from the mizzen mast was a bronze flag, the cloth lacking an emblem to identify itself.

Not that it needed to. This also explained why Jeryn hadn’t sounded alarmed, because he’d drawn the same conclusion.

The unmarked flag meant this ship had come in secret. And the brown color meant only one Season.

“Autumn,” I whispered.

38

Jeryn

With Flare’s cunt still encasing my cock, I scarcely had time to process this turn of events. Not three seconds into the aftershocks, I might have called the view a hallucination wrought from making her come. Perhaps the vision of her glowing eyes, flushed cheeks, and moaning mouth had intoxicated me. Merely looking at her was enough to inebriate my system, to say nothing of bringing her to orgasm.

Except where my body had been spilling into Flare moments ago, clarity returned. It slapped me across the face as my little beast squirmed in my arms. Despite my desire to grip her tighter, to fuck her in a dozen various ways, the other half of my reflexes did as she bade and released her.

The soaked muscles of Flare’s pussy slipped from around my dick, the hasty movements causing me to groan. Painful. Mournful. At the disruptive noise, she halted. Eyes shimmering, she grabbed my face and dropped a quick kiss on my lips, denying me the chance to snatch her mouth and reciprocate. A disgruntled growl scrolled from my throat, to which she chuckled.

Swinging her head toward the ship and then back to me, Flare patted my shoulders, urging me to make haste. She scrambled down my torso like a crustacean, her feet hitting the surf, seawater splashing around her ankles. Yet it was the vision of her dusky nipples and glistening vagina that triggered the lucid side of my brain.

I broke from my stupor. We launched into motion.

The slit in her skirt left no part of Flare’s anatomy to the imagination. As for the bodice, the ocean had swallowed it whole like a delicacy. Under no circumstances would anyone be permitted to see her disrobed.

This visual was mine.

Although Flare had sliced open the clasps of my shirt, it was better than nothing. After sealing the flaps of my pants, I peeled off the sopping garment and tossed it her way.

Flare caught the fabric and threw her arms into the oversized sleeves. Because she’d severed the closures, the resourceful female used her dagger to slice horizontal incisions down the center, enabling her to tie the front shut. Then she rolled the cuffs up her forearms, the hem hanging to her knees.

However, the skirt was a lost cause. With the slit ascending to her waist and displaying every glorious attribute between her hips, Flare hopped out of the garment, letting it puddle to the sand. At which point, my lungs drained.

Her, in my wet shirt. Her, with that mussed hair. Her, newly fucked.

This view. Also mine.

Frantic, the gorgeous little beast draped her skirt across the chair where we’d feasted. Together, we raced from the cove and through the caves.

This could be a trap. It could be an ambush. Except such logic did not add up. Summer and Winter would charge into the forest, intent on locating me and apprehending Flare. Neither court would need to disguise itself.

Even if that were the case, neither court would know what appropriate—and effective—disguise to wear. Nor would they present themselves as Autumn. This much at least, I had concluded upon sighting the ship. Otherwise, I’d have thrown Flare over my shoulder and vacated the cove at the first hint of danger.

The occupants of that ship were clear. The reality hit me slowly, then expediently.

Regardless, I would not take chances where Flare was concerned. I seized the beast’s fingers and maneuvered ahead of her, with the knife harnessed to my hip.

Returning to the ruins, we sprinted up the stairs. Across the halls. Past the vestibule. Through the stone doors. At the landing, we stalled in our tracks.