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I could rule a nation. And I could do this to him. Yet I could not say which felt more powerful.
When anger came out and drew words like swords, so did the truth.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.” His eyes slitted, a crawlspace impossible to get through. “We,” he repeated, like I’d smeared the word on him, like he yearned to wipe off the residue.
“Love with your heart. Rule with your head,”
down. Each cubicle allowed scarcely
If something happens to me … If anything happens to you … Crimson would pool across the floor. Hearts would be ripped from chests. My daggers would maim and nail bodies to the wall for target practice. That was assuming I showed mercy. No one would be safe from me if they touched her.
“I give you my word as a man who jests.” “You cannot be serious.” “Hardly ever. But that’s what you pay me for.”
“The greatest courage a person can have is to love another, for there are only two outcomes. Either the love lasts, and our lives are compromised, or it doesn’t, and our lives are emptied. Either way, we suffer more than we celebrate. I’ve enjoyed suffering with you. We are a tale for campfires.”
And she’s falling for him.” “And I’m loving her.”
Poet whispers, “Right now, I’m loving her … because I do, and have, and will.” My hands shook as they clasped his face. “Poet.” “I love her,” he hissed, capturing my mouth.
“I don’t want to be good. I want to stay with you.” “I’ve never heard a more splendid compliment.”
A ruler makes brave decisions, not merely cautious ones.
In every Season, contradictions existed. Savagery and beauty. Brutality and kindness. Pleasure and pain. Hate and love.
“That’s it, Your Highness,” I encouraged. “Ride them like you rule them.”
I’ll pump into you until it’s all you know, until the only thing you concentrate on is my cock and your cunt moving together.” My incisors scraped her flesh. “The softer you moan, the deeper I’ll fuck you.”
“Keep looking at me. Keep your thighs parted like that. Keep watching whilst I open you.”
I wanted her on every forsaken surface available. I wanted her beneath me like now, above me like before, bent in front of me like someday. I wanted her hair unruly and pouring like lava down her freckled skin. I wanted to see her lovingly fucked by me.
My growls and her moans collided, the catastrophic noises smashing through forest. I drowned myself in them, wanting to hear every wild thing we did to each other, hoping the whole forsaken world heard us, too.
His name. I felt it like a touch, like a confession, like a promise.
“How do you feel?” It came out effortlessly, honestly, and without reservation. “I feel in love.” His eyes flashed. “What a coincidence.”
Touching him felt like touching myself.
