Chapter 81 Sweet
Althea’s mouth dropped open, stunned. ‘Did he really just say that so casually?’ His expression didn’t even twitch, as though the double meaning behind his words wasn’t scandalous at all.
Her face flamed hotter, her thoughts scattering. ‘This beast… is he teasing me? Or does he truly mean it that way?!’
Before she could even argue, Gavriel pressed a piece of meat to her lips and stuffed it into her mouth. Althea had no choice but to chew, and the moment the flavor hit her tongue, she realized just how hungry she was. Starvation easily won over pride, so she stopped debating altogether and quietly let the Alpha King feed her.
In truth, she found herself… almost enjoying it. Being cared for, even in this strange way, felt nice. But she quickly reminded herself of who she was dealing with. To Gavriel, she was nothing more than a toy—something he could switch between warm and cold whenever it suited him. It was safer to believe that than to give any positive meaning to his actions.
‘I wonder when I’ll stop reminding myself that I’m nothing to this man,’ she thought bitterly, a sigh slipping past her lips without her noticing.
“What are you thinking?” he asked suddenly, and that was when she realized he’d been watching her closely.
“Ah, nothing. Did you just arrive? I mean—”
“Yes. I didn’t sleep here,” Gavriel cut her off, slipping another bite of food between her lips.
His expression was unreadable, and she swallowed hard. It was safer not to say anything. At least his words reassured her—it meant what happened last night, her rambling about the portal she created, must have been a dream. Just another hallucination brought on by nearly burning out her inner energy.
“Eat more,” he ordered, continuing to feed her in silence.
After a while, when the quiet stretched between them, he finally spoke again.
“You almost finished everything,” Gavriel remarked, sliding the last bite of meat into her mouth.
Althea didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned forward, grabbed the bowl of soup with both hands, and drank it down directly. It was warm enough to swallow quickly, and she felt relief spreading through her body as she drank.
She wasn’t just filling an empty stomach—her body was trying to recover, to recharge the energy she had burned out the night before.
When Althea finally lowered the empty bowl, a small sigh of relief escaped her lips. The warmth of the soup spread through her, soothing her body in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.
Gavriel watched her closely, his sharp eyes lingering on the faint flush across her cheeks.
“Was it really that good?” he asked, his voice low, almost curious.
Althea wiped her lips with the back of her hand and gave a small nod, still catching her breath. “Mm… yes. It was perfect.”
Something dark flickered in Gavriel’s eyes. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His voice dropped hoarsely, rough around the edges. “Then I need to taste and decide for myself.”
Her breath hitched. “W-what do you—”
Before she could finish, his mouth claimed hers. The kiss wasn’t rushed but deliberate, deep, as if he were savoring every trace of flavor left behind. His tongue slid past her lips, teasing, demanding, pulling a soft gasp from her.
The soup’s faint warmth lingered between them, but the heat quickly became something else, something far more dangerous.
Althea’s fingers curled into his shirt, her body stiff at first before slowly melting against him.
Every brush of his lips left her trembling, every stroke of his tongue making her forget the air she needed to breathe.
When he finally pulled back, their foreheads nearly touched, his breath mingling with hers.
His lips curved faintly—not a smile, but something darker. “Not bad,” he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze burning into her. “But you taste better.”
Althea’s heart raced wildly in her chest, her lips still tingling, her mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened.
Then Gavriel’s fingers gripped the edge of her dress on her chest with a roughness that made her shiver. In one swift pull, the fabric gave way, tearing under his strength until it slid down her arms. Her gasp filled the silence as her chest was left bare before him.
For a heartbeat, she wanted to cover herself, but his gaze held her still, cold and hungry like a predator who had finally cornered his prey.
He tilted his head, almost as if amused by her sharp intake of breath, then reached for the small tray of cut oranges on the table. Without a word, he picked one up and pressed it against her skin. The citrus burst instantly, juice dripping down her breast, running like rivulets of liquid fire over her curves.
Althea’s lips parted, a quiet sound escaping as the chill of the fruit mixed with the heat of his breath. Gavriel leaned in, his mouth following the trail the juice made. His tongue licked along her skin, slow at first, savoring, before he latched onto her flesh with a hunger that made her arch back.
“It’s time for me to eat,” he murmured against her chest, voice deep and wicked.
Her pulse hammered in her throat. Every nip, every lick felt less like affection and more like a punishment, yet one that set her body ablaze. He didn’t kiss her softly. He devoured her, as though the taste of citrus and her own trembling gasps were something he needed to consume until nothing of her was left untouched.
Her fingers curled, but then, almost unconsciously, she reached up, tangling her hands in his dark hair. Gavriel groaned at her response. He shifted closer, pressing her back against the bed as his mouth moved from one breast to the other, leaving her trembling beneath him.
The sharp scent of orange clung to the air, mingling with the warmth of their bodies. He squeezed another slice against her, deliberately letting the juice run down her stomach this time. She gasped again as the coolness met her heated skin, only for his tongue to chase after it, tracing lower and lower, each stroke deliberate, claiming her inch by inch.
“Sweet,” he muttered, his lips grazing over her skin as he spoke. “But not nearly enough.”
His words burned hotter than his touch, and when he kissed her again—open-mouthed, breathless—it felt like he was punishing her with every taste, every demand. He kissed her like she truly was his first meal of the day.
Althea found herself answering his hunger with her own, her lips parting beneath his, her body pressing closer instead of pulling away.