Their Hidden Princess (Zora and Maximus) novel Chapter 254

Zora’s POV

Kissing Thorne was like pressing my lips against a live wire. I could feel the jolt all the way down through my body, zipping through my bones. Something inside of me – the mating bond, perhaps – was reconnecting, stitching itself back together.

Just touching Thorne like this was making me feel whole. Better. Alive.

I already felt stronger, and I wanted more. Maybe I was being greedy, but this kiss opened the floodgates. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I drowned in this feeling, this affection. This love? Too soon for that, but the possibility was there, begging me to claim it.

I opened my mouth, and Throne, so in sync with me, licked past the seam of my lips. His tongue tangled with my own, and I hummed delightedly against his mouth.

He pressed himself more full on top of me. His elbow sunk into the mattress at my side, steadying him as his torso covered mine.

I lifted both hands and combed through his hair. It was longer than it had been, but clean and straight. I tugged at it a little and he moaned.

He pulled back then, for breath, but to my disappointment he didn’t immediately return to kissing me. Instead, he gazed down at me with hooded eyes, taking in my face, my lips which I’m sure were kiss-red.

I took advantage of the moment to take in the sight of him too. Gods, he was so handsome. He’d been attractive, even with the grit and grim on him, but as he was now, clean and freshly-shaven, I couldn’t stop looking at him.

Pressing myself up, I kissed along the line of his jaw.

He didn’t pull back but he stiffened. I paused confused.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“We should stop.” He swallowed hard, like he didn’t mean it.

“Why?”

“You are still weak.”

“Not so weak that I can’t have this,” I told him, and resumed kissing across his jaw then down his neck.

Lifting a hand to my shoulder, he lightly pushed me down onto the bed. I pouted a little. Was he really going to deny me this? I could tell that he wanted it too. His eyes were practically setting me on fire with his lust.

“We can stop if that is your wish,” I said, “but do not do so because you think you are being kind to me.”

“You can’t possibly want me after all I’ve done,” he said.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” came his quick reply. Zero hesitation. Breathless and filled with passion.

“I want you, Thorne. I want to be closer to you, as close as I am able. I want you to lie with me, to make love to me, to give yourself entirely to me as I want to give myself to you. So I’m asking. Please. Thorne, please. Make love to me. Make me yours as I long for you to be mine.”

A muscle ticked along his jaw as he looked down at me. His eyes searched mine for a moment. I held his gaze, hoping to give him whatever it was he was looking for. Then, his gaze dipped down to my lips.

A quick breath, and then he was kissing me again, delving his tongue deeply into my mouth.

He kicked off the floor, moving over me more fully. I pushed away the blankets, wanting to feel him, to hold him, to have his hard body pressed against mine.

He pulled his t-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. At once, I placed my hands on the hard lines of his torso, tracing the muscles, hoping to memorize every dip and plane.

“Your turn,” he said.

I sat up as best I could, as his hands went to my pajama shirt and he slipped it up and off, over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so my breasts were immediately exposed. In the cool air, my nipples hardened, more so when he looked down at me and licked his lips.

As I rested back on the mattress, he followed me, his lips seeking those sensitive buds. While he massaged one breast with his hand, the other, he lapped and kissed with his lips and tongue, flicking over my nipple as I gasped and combed my fingers through his long, damp hair.

“More,” I begged. “I need more.”

He lapped at me gently, taking his time, giving me the best form or torture.

Soon, I was quaking against his tongue and came with a gasp. Then he pushed himself up, moved over me, and kissed me. I stretched my legs wider to accommodate him. Moving between them, he lined himself up and slid inside of me.

He moved slowly but steadily, sinking in me all the way to the hilt.

I threw my head back on the pillow. He locked his lips onto the side of my neck, kissing lightly, not enough to leave marks.

“You are being too gentle,” I whispered, between my moans. He placed one of my hands flat on the mattress and laced his fingers between mine.

“I’ll never hurt you again.”

We would have to talk about this someday, about how I wasn’t some fragile glass doll who was about to break, but right now, as he started to move, whatever words had been on my tongue flitted away.

All I could think was yes and gods and so good.

He kept a steady pace, increasing in speed only slightly, but never becoming less gentle, less tender, as he rocked into me again and again, taking and giving in equal measure.

Until finally, he brought us both to our peak.

“Ah!” I cried out.

“Zora,” he growled into my neck.

Then together, we fell over the edge.