Page 65 of The Broken Prince
She undid my trousers as her hungry mouth took mine, working to get to my hard dick, anxious, as if we hadn’t already fucked all night. She got me free before she yanked up her dress, her mouth still on mine.
I lifted her against the wall until her foot left the ground then lowered her onto my length, my cock sliding perfectly into place.
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and she buried her face into my neck, moaning against my skin to stay quiet. “Aurelias…”
“Answer me.” I thrust inside her, my lips near her ear, knowing how utterly addicted I was to this woman to be fucking her in a dark alleyway after I’d already fucked her countless times. But somehow, it felt like the first time, the first hit, the first moment.
“Yes…”
* * *
The next morning, I entered the castle and was escorted to the dining room. There was a long table there, laden with fresh fruit, breakfast meats, and coffee and tea. I rarely ate human food, because the taste was dull and it didn’t satisfy my hunger. Blood was a surge of metal and salt, a burn on my tongue that nothing else could replicate.
When I approached the table, I realized Harlow wasn’t there. It was just King Rolfe and his queen.
King Rolfe gestured to the chair on his left.
I took a seat directly across from his wife, her neck a horrible mixture of red and orange.
“Atticus is still recovering in his bedroom,” Ivory said. “And Harlow has never been a morning person…”
She definitely wasn’t a morning person after last night. She didn’t return to her bedroom until at least four in the morning.
“Help yourself,” she said. “If you’re hungry…”
“I’ll just take some coffee.” I filled a mug before I placed it in front of me, but I didn’t drink any of it.
Ivory continued to stare at me, her emotions quiet but intense. There was an unfulfilled longing inside her. “I never had the chance to thank you for what you did…for saving me.”
I avoided her gaze, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” she said gently. “You could have died.”
And for a second, I’d thought I was going to. To avoid her gaze, I looked into my mug then took a drink, the taste bland like everything else. The only exception to that was alcohol. It was strong enough to ignite lifeless taste buds.
She seemed to sense my discomfort because she dropped the subject.
King Rolfe sat at the head of the table, digging into an omelet that had to contain at least a dozen eggs. It was stuffed with bacon and cheese.
“I’d like to make a request.” And I’d like to make it before Harlow joined us.
“I’m listening.” King Rolfe continued to eat, perpendicular to me as he sat at the head of the table.
“You won’t like it,” I said. “But I have to make it.”
When he heard that, he set down his fork and pivoted his chair to look at me head on.
“I need to feed—and not on animal blood.”
The rage was instantaneous, like he’d expected the request. “I already gave my answer when I released you from prison.”
“Animal blood is a poor substitute—”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Huntley…” His queen’s hand moved to his forearm, sheathing his anger with a single touch.
“Yes, I’m alive,” I said calmly. “But I’m weak. It’s like not getting enough sleep and not eating for a couple of days. You just aren’t the same. I need to be strong for what we’re about to face, not emaciated and exhausted.”