Page 43 of Princess of Death

“Then do you know the occupants of those golden ships?” My father was cautious and concerned, and that made me the same way.

“Yes.”

“Who are they?”

He dipped his chin for an instant. “That’s not how this works. I cut deals with greedy men, grant vengeance to those who need to extinguish their rage. Take souls that belong in my realm and souls that don’t belong there. I’m God of the Dead, not God of the Living, and it’s not my place to interfere with the events that unfold across this world.”

“You interfered when you killed those men.”

“I interfered for you,” he said. “And I won’t do it again.”

“So, they do have an interest in the Southern Isles.”

“You twist my words like a viper.”

“When I told my father about those men, he was concerned. That made me concerned. It looked like they were going to war. Or they’d just completed a war…”

He looked at me with confidence, with a stare that was potent with surety and strength. The only man who ever looked at me that way was my own father. The only man I knew who had a spine as hard as the steel of his blade.

I stared back, silently begging him to tell me what I wanted.

He gave a quiet breath. “They’re called Barbarians. Soldiers and warriors who served their king—until they staged a coup and murdered him and his family. Their kingdom has withered in a frost that hasn’t waned in three years. A kingdom draped in the curtains of luxury, it’s fallen to ruin. They blamed the king, and once the king was dead, they had no one to blame but themselves. They scour the seas in search of their new home, and they’ll take it by whatever force is necessary.”

My lungs ached as I sucked in a quick breath. I’d considered my father paranoid, but not anymore. Even with the dragons in our ranks, the idea of anyone challenging this beautiful place for themselves still scared me.

He watched my fear stretch across my face. “Their attention is not on your kingdom.”

“Do they know of the Southern Isles?”

“No.”

The relief was so pleasurable I wanted to feel it again. I wished I could share this with my father, but I would have no way to explain my knowledge.

His hands slid underneath my thighs, and he lifted me from the counter, bringing me into his chest like I weighed nothing.

My arms automatically circled his neck, and I was enveloped in his sweltering heat. I was still sore from our night together, but the sight of this gorgeous man made me drop any hesitation. I’d take the pain for the pleasure anytime.

He carried me to my bedroom and laid me down like last time. His bottoms were dropped, and he was naked—and of course, he was already hard. He pulled on my garments and yanked them free like they were rags rather than nice articles of clothing. When he had me naked, he bent me into position and immediately moved his face between my thighs, drawing in a deep breath like all he wanted to do was smell me.

I’d never had a guy smell me.

It was the most possessive thing a man had ever done to me…and I liked it.

Then he kissed me, worshipped my entrance to earn his worthiness. Made me writhe slowly on the bed, breathe harder with every passing second, make me sweat when all I did was lie there.

He sucked my clit hard before he moved over me, bending my knees and folding me underneath him like last time. He didn’t turn me off or ask for me to get on top. He bent me until I couldn’t bend anymore then sank inside me like he’d been thinking about this moment every second since the last time it had happened.

He felt bigger than last time. He invaded my lands, carved his name into my soul, felt me deeper than anyone had before. He was the biggest man I’d ever taken, the biggest man to ever fit inside this small bed, to fit inside me.

When he was as deep as he could go, he gave a moan in satisfaction. Veins popped in his arms and his neck, and he held himself still as he looked down at me, like a predator admiring the prey it had caught. Then he started to rock into me, his big dick making room for itself within my flesh. His kiss softened the friction between our bodies, and when that had been soaked up, my arousal did the rest of the work.

It hurt, made me wince, but he continued like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck, you’ve got a big dick.”

He continued to thrust, not showing a hint of a smile. “You can handle it,Xivin.”

I gripped his arms as my eyes remained locked on his, watching him watch me, memorizing my face as I reacted to the way he feltinside me. His arms were far bigger than my hands, so I could only hold on to a section of muscle.

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