Page 36 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

I swallowed and then raised my hand toward the wings, the wings tucked in tighter, and my hand froze in mid-air.

“You’ve exposed your wings during sex before?” I asked, hating the bud of anger and jealousy that sprouted inside my chest at another woman having witnessed such awe-inspiring beauty.

“Never.”

Shock sank its talons into me. “W-what?”

“I’ve never exposed my wings during sex,” Drake said simply. He watched me like I was the only thing that mattered. And a small part of me sensed that the subject of his wings was important, thatmyreaction meant something to him.

I reached my hand toward his wing again. Every muscle in Drake’s body locked as he waited for my touch. I gently ran my fingertips along his wings. They felt finer than velvet, the texture so smooth, it might as well have been polished onyx. A shudder rippled over Drake’s body, and he dropped his head, his long hair falling forward to drape over me like a waterfall of night.

I immediately drew my hand away. “Does that hurt?” I asked. I gnawed on my lower lip.

Drake slowly shook his head. Then he raised his head up. His eyes glowed like mystical light—like a lavender petal illuminated within.

“No,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “It feels…divine.”

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. Though satisfaction flared inside my core at bringing him pleasure from a simple touch. I smiled up at him, and that seemed to be enough for Drake, for his eyes softened, and he flashed an easy grin. I gasped softly at the feel of his fingers once again inside me, the touch more assessing and exploratory.

“You’re so wet,” Drake growled. “I had to prepare you for me. This is your first time…and I’m not exactly a small male.” He swallowed. “I don’t wish to cause you pain.”

He’s concerned about me…Most males would have charged ahead, seeking their own pleasure—never questioning if the female was a virgin. It would be a given that she was experienced. At least, people thought I was due to my royal status. But the truth was, I’d never been interested in anyone until Drake.

Tears swam in my eyes, my vision going blurry as I was overcome with emotion. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Drake reached a finger out and caught a stray tear. “No thanks is required.”

He drew away from me and stood. Stripping out of his leather pants, he returned to loom above me once more. Then I felt him push at my entrance. Slowly, he worked himself in, gazing at me carefully. I hissed as I felt a sharp pain rip me deep inside. Drake paused and pressed soft kisses across my cheek, my jawline, trailing lower across my neck and lower still. He was comforting me, and my heart swelled all the more for his tenderness.

I wiggled my hips beneath him, signaling that I had adjusted. Drake slid home, thrusting to the hilt. A moan rolled past my lips. He was big, almost too big—the fullness I felt almost flaring at the fringes of pain. Again, Drake paused as he lavished my neck with open-mouthed kisses, his hand falling to my hip, massaging the soft skin.

He gave an experimental thrust, and it felt as if the world pulsed with energy, every sense sharpening—my skin humming with every thrust. I moaned and buried my hands into his long hair, gripping the strands as I rode the wave of pleasure that rose to a fevered pitch.

Drake groaned and pressed another kiss to the slope of my shoulder. The pleasure pulsated and throbbed like shockwaves. My heart hammered against my chest with such force my ribs were in danger of breaking.

“Drake,” I gasped out. “Oh, Drake.”

“That’s it, Ember,” Drake grunted. He thrust again, the rhythm that he set picking up. “Just like that, come for me.”

The swelling ecstasy bloomed, pushed outward, and I went head first over the cliff in a delicious free fall. A scream tore from my throat as a tumultuous orgasm ripped through me. My sex spasmed, clamping over the length of Drake. He let out a guttural moan, his own body jerking as my climax dragged him under. He buried his head into the crook of my neck, his hands gripping tightly to my hips. I moaned and whimpered as the remnants of pleasure washed over me in waves. My body convulsed and trembled under the weight of such ecstasy. Drake lay atop me, his slick body warm again my sweat-dampened skin. He raised his head and pressed a soft kiss to my brow.

“Mie Amorala,” He breathed.

I vaguely recognized the language of the fae, yet was too sated to chase after the meaning. Stars still danced in my vision, my head airy like it was filled with clouds.

Drake rolled over, pulling me with him as he tucked me against his side. The last thing I recalled was him nuzzling the hair atop my head, and then exhaustion seized my limbs, spreading along my body like a warm blanket. My eyes drifted shut, and I allowed the darkness to consume me.

I woke to a bright light shining behind my closed eyelids. I groaned groggily as my eyes cracked open. The early light of dawn slanted through the windows—its violet-blue tint washing over the sheets tangled around my legs.

My eyes landed on the dark burgundy curtain, the nightstand with a single lamp atop it. My brow furrowed as sleep still clung to me.

This isn’t my room,I thought. Then I felt a strong muscular body pressed against my back, an arm draped across my hip. My heartbeat spiked, hammering inside my chest.

No, please, no.

A very naked, very male body spooned me. In my heart, I knew who lay behind me, whispers and fragments of memories coming back under the intoxication of the liquor being lifted. But I didn’t want to believe it; I couldn’t bear to look. I glanced over my shoulder anyway.

Drake’s angular face, softened in sleep, stared back at me. My heart dropped as despair rose from my throat. I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my sob and squeezed my eyelids shut. My eyes burned with tears.

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