Page 107 of Crown Prince's Mate

“You’re not surprised to see me?”

“I smelled you. Heard you open the door. Why are you here?” He speaks bluntly.

“Maybe I came to thank you for saving my life.”

His eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “No. That’s not it.”

I stand across the room from him, letting my gaze run up and down his body. He almost can’t be real, this huge behemoth, a god of the hunt who would have filled the drug-induced visions of Viking shamans so long ago on Old Earth. “Because there’s a tension between us we need to work out.”

He puts his hands on the doorframe, the top of his head jutted forward as he ducks under the too-low frame. “Things change when you’re in a triad. We make our own decisions, but Doman is the thread that binds us. That’s why I accepted his decision, even though I wanted to put you in a hidden bunker on Magnar. If you are to be part of this triad, you aren’t just living for yourself, or for Pentaris. This is what matters.” He waves his hand, encompassing me, then motions deeper into the ship, and I know he is pointing towards Doman and Gallien, sensing them through the Bond.

I know this man. I know the beastliness in him, the bloodlust, the hundreds of years of war he’s fought in where every command must be obeyed instantly or men die. He’s unsettled by my addition to his life, the turmoil I’ve caused his triad.

“I can live with it. As long as my voice is heard, just like yours and Gallien’s.”

He studies me, long and hard, and his nostrils flare, tasting my emotions. “Good. Then we’re fine.”

We don’t feel fine. He glances towards the door, like he’s imagining me leaving.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m recovered. My body needed to adapt to the blood infusion. I just need rest.” He walks to the bed, and it creaks andgroans as he settles his huge bulk on it, sitting heavily on the edge while watching me.

There’s a distance between us. A tension I need to soothe.

The beast needs to be in control. He needs to conquer me, to tame me, to throw off that ring and bind me to him. But until I’m ready to face the dark realities of the Bond…

I know exactly what to do to soothe his brutality.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you? Massage you to sleep?” I make my voice softer, a tinge of submission to it.

Him saving my life… that made me even more attracted to him.

Titus’ eyes narrow. “What game is this?” His voice is raspy.

I unbutton the top of my shirt, and I get a thrill as his eyes flick to my cleavage as I slowly undress, delaying the moment, making him anticipate the sight of my naked body. “Is this what you want, Titus? A pleasure slave? A harem wench, who does everything you ask?”

He eyes bore through me, his cock surging up, and it makes the towel unravel around him as his manhood rears up, thick and menacing, this huge, veiny thing that is never sated. “Well, sir? What would you like me to do? Crawl to you and suck that nice thick cock? Kiss your feet? Run my tongue all over your body?” I lick my lips, slowly, deliberately as I unbutton my shirt, taking it off and letting it fall to the ground, my bra next. My nipples are hard little buds, and I’m soaking wet already.

I was playing this game for him—but it’s ignited something in me, a dark, dirty urge as I act like a harem whore who gave up her life to fly to Colossus and serve one of the beastly triads. I always looked down on them, and the way my body is reacting despite the edge of shame is an intoxicating blend of sensations.

“Careful, mister, you lost a lot of blood. You sure you have enough to spare for that thing?” I walk closer to him, unbuttoning my pants and pulling them off with my panties,kicking them into the corner. I’m almost panting already. It’s how he’s just so fucking huge, so powerful, tall as me even when he’s sitting.

It’s how he put himself between me and danger and took a blade for me without hesitation.

“Lay back,” I say, and press my hand against his broad chest. He lets me push him back, and I mount him, my feet resting on his broad thighs, running my hands over the ridges of his abs and placing them on his chest for balance. “It’s going to be okay, Titus. I know you just want to keep me safe,” I say, in little more than a whisper, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his lips, then slowly sliding my wet slit up the length of his shaft. His cock throbs, dripping pearly pre-cum that wets my needy, tingling slit. He breathes in, and his body tenses, his muscles flexes, tasting the submission in my scent.

I can see the anger in his being, the hard set of his jaw. It’s at himself. At his triad. And some of it’s at me, this boiling rage that burns him up, that he’s brought his Fated Mate into danger and nearly lost her. He blames himself, and if I had died in the attack, his mind would have been destroyed, his purpose gone.

I tease him, sliding my pussy against the rock-hard, thick cockhead that throbs in response. I want him inside me so badly, feeling so empty and needing to be filled, but I deny myself, forcing down my own need in order to drive the alpha wild.

“I know I’ve been bad,” I coo. “Punish me for it.”

He growls out in response, but his cock throbs. “You couldn’t handle it.”

I gently scratch my nails against his chest, avoiding the smooth, hairless skin where he was just sliced open. “You think you could break me?” I smile, a thrill rushing through me like electricity, the thrill of knowing something is dangerous, and exulting in it, like the sensation I got swinging from tree to tree in a lightning storm, the rain coming down like waves. Igrind my hips, rubbing my wet slit against his throbbing cock, breathing heavily.

I gasp as he flips me over, my face pressed against the bed. “You’d be begging me to stop,” he snarls, his voice filled with a darkness that terrifies me…

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