Page 71 of The Nightbound Soldier

“Or in mind,” I say.

“Debatable.” She licks from the base of my shaft to the top, then lingers there before opening her mouth and swallowing the entire length.

I hiss at her.

She moves her head up and down and chokes on me, all the while watching me, those blue eyes as clear as any seas I’ve ever seen. If I fist her hair, I might force her to move too fast, and I don’t want her to move fast. I want her to use whatever pace she sets to please me, because Fleur is made to please.

She knows exactly what I like and how I like it. I’ve never fucked or been fucked like this in my life. Granted, I hardly remember having sex, but I’m sure it wasn’t this good.

When I start growling, getting impatient while she’s toying with me, she cups my balls and weighs them in her small hand. As if that’s not arousing enough, she releases her mating scent that, as she’s come to figure out over the course of the night, makes me more aggressive, makes me fuck her harder.

There are red marks on her bottom and the backs of her thighs, claw cuts on her arms from where I held her, and a bruise is already forming on her left hip from when I squeezed too hard.

I’m not a gentle lover.

Good thing my siren isn’t interested in gentle.

Still, I control my response to her, measure each touch, afraid I’ll hurt her. Meanwhile, her mating scent is muddling my brain and, like a drug, makes me want to let go, loosen up, lose myself in her.

“Surender to the pleasure,” she says.

I’m close to coming. Fuck, she undoes me. Should I give in to the pleasure? I want to, I have to, I need to, I must. Warning bells about her magic sweeping inside my head sound, but they’re so far away that I ignore them easily.

When I close my eyes and release myself into her mouth, the siren mentally takes me away.

I’m knee-deep in the sea. The sun heats my shoulders, but doesn’t burn my skin. I look up at it and squint, shielding my eyes.

Something’s hitting my leg.

I look down and pick up a seashell. It’s large and reminds me of the seashells Fleur wore over her breasts this evening.

“Fleur!” someone calls from the shore. A dark-haired female dressed in a black corset and a black leather skirt stomps over the sand in her leather boots. An Unseelie fae. I gather this is Fleur’s mother, former queen Demina.

She reaches the two kids playing in the sand. One of them is a beautiful blond boy who looks like Fleur. This must be the Summer prince, El’jah. The other is dark haired, but just as beautiful, and looks like the mother. This is her oldest brother, Et’enne.

Fleur’s in the water, and she dunks as the former queen levels her with a glare. “Get out of the water, girl.”

El’jah leaps up and stands with his fists at his sides. “Leave her alone!” he shouts.

“If I have to go in there to get you, I’ll cut off your tail.”

Fleur crawls onto the shore, her big blue eyes filled with tears, her golden siren tail reflecting the light.

El’jah argues with the mother while the oldest scoops up the siren and starts carrying her away. Over his shoulder, Fleur looks at me and mouths,Help me.

The vision collapses, and I return to the present.

Propped on my elbows, I’m fucking her while her hands hold my face. She looks worried.

“Nottuza, Nottuza.” She rubs my face, and I notice the sweat accumulating on my forehead.

I lean on one arm and grab a sheet with the other to wipe my forehead. I rarely perspire. This sweat isn’t from physical but rather mental exhaustion as my subconscious fought the siren’s power. If I had surrendered, she would have kept me there, in her world, or rather, her memories, for as long as she pleased.

Anger rises, and I growl, but the way Fleur looks at me, all innocence and genuine concern, I’m certain she has no idea what just occurred. And while my power lies in manipulating memories, I didn’t initiate this contact. Only a fool initiates mental games with a siren of this much magic.

Inside Fleur, however, the siren part of her is suppressed, hidden, imprisoned even, and since I can reach her with my power, it’s possible that she wants to be let out. She wants me to help her, but before I do that, I must ensure Fleur’s well-being. The last thing I want to do is hurt the princess.

If I were less selfish, I wouldn’t have slept with her, but I’m not. I took her body as the most generous offering.

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