Seduced by Darkness (Dark Court Rising)

by Bec McMaster

  It’s hot, possessive, controlling. Every inch of it is a statement: You’re mine.

  There’s nothing sweet about this kiss. Nothing gentle. My fists curl in his shirt—partly to push him away, I think—but as the taste of him overwhelms me, I realize that wasn’t what I was planning at all.

  He draws back, as if sensing my hesitance. But it’s too late. It was too late the second he touched me.

  I kiss him back. Hard.

  It’s like I give him permission. Sliding a hand down my spine, he sinks those firm fingers into my ass and hauls me against him. Everything is heat. He could set me alight with a single kiss and when his tongue strokes against mine, my entire body wilts into his embrace. This. I want this. A shiver runs through me as if the lash of his tongue echoes within. I can practically feel it between my thighs and my mind rewards me of a flashback of last night, when he laid waste to the slit between my thighs.

  The enemy.

  I’m kissing the enemy.

  What are you doing? whispers the part of me that I really should listen to. Common sense, perhaps.

  But common sense dictates I shove him away from him, demand that he won’t tell a soul about this, and then return to my tent where I will never see him again. Common sense would have me bound at the wrist to Etan, forced into his bed and his life and shackled by every whim he ever has. Common sense is what has made me hold my tongue all these years, when my mother stared me down.

  Common sense needs to die a convenient death.

  There’s no reason to this. Nothing beyond need. And maybe there’s a little part of me that likes that it’s him I’m kissing. This is freedom. My mother would kill me if she knew I was here, and there’s a vindictive sort of pleasure in knowing that.

  It’s Thiago who breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine and breathing hard. “You ruin me,” he rasps. “All my good intentions…. Gone.”

  “Likewise.” Pleasure hammers through my veins. I splay my hand over his chest, digging my fingertips into the hard muscle there. I barely had a chance to explore last night.

  Thiago’s eyes open and he stares down at me, a dangerous smile curling over his mouth. “This is so wrong.”

  “I know.” The whisper is torn from my lips.

  “I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to end this.” His thumb brushes over my breast, scraping against my nipple. “But I won’t have a repeat of last night.”

  “What was wrong with last night?”

  His mouth twists. “The second I touched you, I lost control. I was inside you before I could barely have a chance to explore.” He lifts my wrist to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the inside of my pulse. “And trust me, Princess. I want to explore.”

  A shiver runs all the way through me as his tongue traces over those delicate veins.

  “I—”

  He suddenly freezes.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  He captures my hand, pushing the sleeve of my gown higher until he can see the ring of bruises around my wrist. His touch is far more careful than it ought to be. Almost as if he can’t bear to see those marks that mar my olive skin.

  I wrench my hand back to my chest. “Don’t.”

  Our eyes meet, and there’s something dark and dangerous stirring within him, something intense that traps me in its spell, until the world drops away from around me.

  “Who did this to you?” So dangerous, that voice. “Who hurt you?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexes. “These weren’t on you last night. I didn’t— I didn’t hurt you?”

  Oh gods. Relief shears through me. “No. It wasn’t…. You didn’t bruise me.”

  But someone did, his eyes say.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Did she do this?” There’s murder in his eyes, and it’s a shock to realize he would kill my mother for daring to touch me.

  I can’t breathe all of a sudden.

  The last person who tried to protect me was tortured and cast from the castle. After Nanny Redwyne disappeared, I swore I’d never let myself love another person again.

  But holding your emotions at bay means withdrawing from the world.

  Maybe that’s why I’m so vulnerable to his touch. Maybe it’s because a part of me is do desperate to be touched.

  “It’s nothing,” I repeat. “I… I did the wrong thing.”

  Thiago visibly swallows down his fury. “I have no right to ask. I have no right to… protect you.” He hates the thought, I can tell. Sliding his fingers through mine, he lifts my hand once more, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I have no right to even tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. You’re not mine.” His voice roughens. “You can never me mine. But if there is one thing I know it is this—you deserve to be treated with respect. There’s nothing you could have done to have earned this, and whoever set hands to you in anger deserves to be fucking flogged. You deserve better—”

  I press my finger to his lips because I can’t bear to hear more. “I know I deserve better,” I tell him fiercely. “But wishes don’t come true.”

  There’s an ancient pain in his eyes. “Maybe they could?”

  “Then grant me this wish. Give me one more night,” I whisper, stroking my fingertips over the stubble lining his jaw. “Whatever this madness is, let me have it just one more time. Kiss me. Please.”

  Thiago’s eyes turn molten.

  But this time, he gently traces my cheek as he leans toward me. “If I’m only going to have you one more time, then I can’t waste a moment of it.”

  His lips brush mine.

  It’s not a claim this time.

  It’s a seduction.

  I hadn’t realized until this moment that a kiss could be both. It feels like he’s trying to do this right, and make up for the passion that overtook the both of us last night. I could kiss him forever. He’s good at this, and I don’t think that’s my inexperience showing.

  Tiny shivers erupt over my skin as his tongue darts out to taste my lips. I want to step into him, to press myself against every inch of him, but something inside me wants this moment too.

  My mouth opens and I stroke his tongue with mine. Thiago shudders and that feels good too, because I’m not the only one being seduced in this moment. It gives me a heady kind of power. I dig my nails into his forearms and lift onto my toes, claiming his mouth. Mine. It’s a thrill that runs all the way through me, curling like a warm heat within my core.

  “I want to see you naked,” I whisper, drawing back and staring up at him through glazed eyes. “I want to touch you. I want to taste you.”

  He sucks in a sharp breath. “Gods, it’s like you were made for me.”

  Capturing me in his arms, he takes two steps and then lays me down upon the heather. I grab a fistful of his shirt and haul him down atop me, his hips sliding between my welcoming thighs.

  He crawls up the length of me, the weight of his body driving me onto my back as his mouth finds my throat. Teeth graze against sensitive skin. I’m burning up. Desperate. My hands grip the heavy muscle of his upper arms, but I don’t know if I’m trying to hold on, or demand some space between us—just enough to breathe.

  Every inch of me erupts in shivers from the tight, swollen ache of my nipples, to the pulsing wetness between my thighs.

  Wrong. So wrong.

  There’s no denying the truth now.

  I can’t pretend I don’t know who he is anymore.

  I can’t pretend I’m not taking this step willfully.

  And I can’t pretend I don’t want this with every inch of my body.

  “More,” I pant.

  Capturing my chin, Thiago claims my mouth. His tongue pushes past my lips. A muscular knee forces my thighs apart, and then it’s grinding against my pussy. Sucking in a sharp gasp behind my teeth, I dig my nails into his arms. All that muscle, just for me. I want to bite him. I want to eat him alive. I want those powerful hands on my skin. I want pain
. I want pleasure. I want him inside me so desperately I can barely breathe.

  It’s like he reads my mind.

  His lips trail down the smooth column of my throat, hands tugging at the filmy gauze of my dress. One breast is bared and then his mouth is there, molten with heat. I arch into him and he suckles me into his mouth. More. More. It feels like wildfire ignites within my veins.

  “I want to never let you go,” he whispers, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Then don’t.”

  The words set him loose.

  If I thought the possessive claim in his eyes was overwhelming before, then I knew nothing.

  Hands tear at my skirts, ripping the expensive silk. I arch into his palm as he finds me, wet and slick. Two fingers drive inside me and I nearly scream. He’s kissing me again. Hard. Furious. Desperate. It feels like we’re both fighting for breath, as if the air in his lungs is all that can sustain me.

  His thumb works over me, his fingers driving in and out in a pistoning movement. Oh gods. A storm is brewing.

  “You’re so fucking tight.” He bites my throat. “Come for me, Vi. Give me your pleasure.”

  One simple command and I’m coming all over his fingers with a scream. This time I give into temptation and bite his shoulder. It’s a million times more heady than it was last night. I can’t control myself.

  I don’t want to control myself.

  Collapsing against the grass, I shake and shudder. Thiago reaches over his shoulder, tugging his tunic over his head. He casts it aside and I rear up on my elbows to look. Shadow ripples over his muscles, delineating them with an artist’s touch. He’s perfect. All hard muscle and smooth skin. Thick dark tattoos that smolder over his chest. I try to run my fingers over one and I swear it moves, arching beneath my touch like a cat.

  Thiago captures me hand.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, Vi, this is going to be over before we even begin.” He tears the buttons on his leather trousers open, unleashing that monstrous cock.

  I know it fits—I know—but the sight of it knots me up inside. For all the pleasure last night brought, there was also a little pain. Understandable, of course, but….

  “Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, fisting that brute and gliding his hand up and down in a mesmerizing movement. Cum glistens over the slit of his cock. He dashes it off with his thumb, and then brings it to my lips.

  I suckle hard, the taste surprisingly salty.

  Our eyes meet, and then he’s cursing under his breath, settling himself between my thighs. “You test my patience each and every time. Fuck, Vi. I wanted to seduce you tonight.”

  The head of his cock brushes against me. I shiver, long past the need for seduction. “We don’t have time for that.”

  I need to be back before someone realizes I’m missing.

  “There’s always time.”

  I grab his ass in both hands, but he refuses to sink into me. Instead he traces those teasing fingers between my thighs. Lightning strikes twice. I come with a moan, shamelessly grinding into his touch.

  “You’re so responsive,” he whispers. “I love it.”

  Resting on one elbow, he fits himself to me and I brace for impact, but once again he surprises me.

  He makes shallow thrusts, dipping inside an inch and then retreating. Messy fingers trace slick circles over and around my clit. I’d accuse him of missing the mark, but one look into those eyes reveals he knows exactly what he’s doing.

  Locking my thighs around his lean hips, I try to arch into him on the next stroke and earn an extra inch.

  A dangerous smile curls over his mouth. “Do you want me, Vi?”

  “Oh gods.” A moan escapes me. Yes. Please. He’s driving me to the edge again with each supple stroke, that callused thumb flickering over my clit just enough to make me gasp. Wild with need. Desperate to have him inside me. “Are you just a fucking tease?”

  “Mmm.” The smoky sound curls all the way through me as he nuzzles at my throat. “Always. I like it when you beg. I like it when you gasp my name. I like it” —he sinks inside me further, his thumb pressing hard against my clit— “when you scream.”

  His thumb should be immortalized. There should be a statue of it in some hall somewhere. I can’t escape the pressure of it, and it feels like it unlocks something inside me.

  “Thiago.”

  “Just. Like. That.” His voice is a whisper inside my head, conjuring memories and fantasies. “Maybe I’ll fuck you with my tongue instead. Would you like that, Vi? Right here.” His cock retreats, teasing at me, testing me. I can almost imagine his tongue doing this dance.

  Another inch.

  If he doesn’t fill me right now, I’m going to explode.

  “Please,” I gasp.

  “Please, what?”

  “Please fuck me.”

  Grasping my thighs, he drives into me with one smooth stroke. It’s enough to tip me over the edge and I do scream. I can barely handle it as he thrusts within me. Harder and faster. Pinning my wrists above my head, and then capturing my thigh and shoving it higher so he’s sinking so deep within me I can barely breathe.

  “Thiago.” I moan again. Surely my body can’t handle this much pleasure.

  “Vi.” He rests his forehead against mine, his thrusts slowing and the muscles in his throat cording. It’s beautiful to see his surrender. There’s no kindness in it. Indeed, it looks like pain as he throws his head back and gasps, flexing one more time.

  But the peace that floods across his expression afterward….

  I’ll remember that.

  No matter what happens, I will always remember this moment.

  Thiago slumps heavily against me, breathing hard as he withdraws. The slickness of his seed paints my thigh, and he traces his fingers through it as if the sensation of it gives him some sort of possessive pleasure.

  I curl into his arms, resting my head on his shoulder. My dress is tangled around me. His trousers are still wrapped around one of his ankles. It makes me laugh and Thiago lifts his head to see what amuses me.

  “What?”

  “You keep breaking your promises,” I tease. “You said tonight would be slow, but we could barely wait until we were undressed.”

  A smile touches his mouth. It’s the first one I’ve truly seen and its breathtaking. It feels like the sun rises within him, casting away the shadows of night. He’s dangerously handsome at all times, but right now, I think he could steal my heart.

  “What is it?” he asks, as if sensing the sudden panic that spirals through me.

  “Nothing.”

  Thiago slumps back down, but his hand runs along my hip. “You say that a lot, you know?”

  I go still, my heart beating fast. It’s an easy way to hide my heart, but maybe I need to stop doing that. “I like your smile.”

  He rolls me onto my side, so he can see me.

  “Do you?” he whispers as we stare into each other’s eyes. There’s a dangerous sense of longing within him. “You make me smile. Even when I know I shouldn’t.”

  Further confirmation that this only lasts until dawn.

  I close my eyes and kiss him again. “I like all the things I shouldn’t be doing with you.”

  “Really?” His answer is a rough laugh as he takes my hand and curls my fingers through his.

  “But I almost think I like this the best,” I whisper as we hold each other.

  It’s a tremulous admission.

  I trace his arms, his shoulders, those tattoos. As wonderful as the fucking is, it’s this moment that truly threatens me. I know he feels it too. He’s too still, too thoughtful. And his chest rises and falls in steady increments as if he barely dares break the truce between us.

  But then he does.

  “I wish that I could trust in you,” Thiago whispers. There’s a storm in his eyes, and he captures my surprise on my lips. One long heated kiss that steals my breath. Then he’s kissing my cheeks, my nose. “But I can’t help thinking that you wer
e never meant to be a gift. You were meant to be my destruction.”

  The moment is gone, a portentous shiver running through me. “Don’t say that.”

  His eyes darken. I almost don’t recognize the look in them. “There’s almost a part of me that doesn’t care. Shatter me, Vi. Break me. Destroy me. I will love every moment of it, until we crash and burn.”

  I shove him onto his back and then sling my legs over his hips. Pressing a finger to his lips, I shake my head. “Stop saying that. Stop tempting fate.”

  “You don’t believe in fate.”

  I shiver, and he smiles.

  “Fate already fucked me once,” he whispers, his thumbs rasping up the outside of my thighs. “It can wait its turn. Maybe we can make our own fate.”

  And then he flexes up and kisses me again, drawing me down to our ruin.

  8

  Iskvien

  I wish that I could trust in you….

  The words spin around my head as I circle my small tent the following day.

  I slept with the Prince of Evernight. Again.

  It’s almost like I have some sort of weakness for arrogant, handsome males who are nothing like they seem to be on the surface.

  But I can’t help thinking that Thiago and Etan are worlds apart.

  Thiago was angry yesterday. Furious with the reveal of my identity.

  And yet, not once did I ever feel threatened.

  It’s a heady realization.

  The evil Prince of Evernight—the one who murdered his queen and her heirs, the one who seeks to steal my mother’s rightful lands away from her—wanted to know why I have bruises on my wrists.

  I pace and I pace and I pace.

  There are thoughts churning in my mind. Dangerous thoughts.

  I can see him again, the backs of his knuckles brushing against my cheek as our eyes meet, and he sinks deep inside me. I can feel my breath catching, feel that moment branding itself on my skin. Taste his kiss on my lips as he stills and lets me adjust to his size and weight.

  It’s all starting to merge in my mind.

  My mother digs the knife into the skin beneath Finn’s eye.

  My hands shake as I sign the contract that will bind me to a monster.