I skipped over Cracked-and-Nosy to the next one. I snapped my finger at it with my brows scrunched. “It looks like one of those super popular male dolls that are always perfect.” Except this one had a cigarette burn hole through the side of his blond head, and its left leg was missing. Its right hand was also twisted at an unnatural angle—and his body was naked. I would have said Lord Otto, but the male-doll hovered over mine. “That one’s Lord Belshazzar’s.”
Lord Otto chuckled softly. “Correct.”
I pointed at the brand new brown teddy bear, a price tag still hanging from his rounded right ear. “That one’s Lord Xenon’s.”
“Yep.” The lord leaned against the doorframe and smirked. “Two more to go. You have a fifty-fifty shot.”
I cast my gaze back and forth between the gnawed-on blue helicopter and the squished yellow rubber ducky. I turned to the Overlord and grinned. “You’re the helicopter, and Lord Pippin is the duck.”
He nodded his head. “Nicely done, your majesty.”
“How the hell does the ducky even move?”
The lord shuddered. “It rolls and it squeaks this heinous sound. All the time. Between Lord Pippin’s feet. Around his feet. I stopped counting how many times he tripped and almost landed on his face.”
I shut the door and locked it. “Mine pisses and screams. You can’t beat that.”
Lord Otto pointed at his hair—his extremely screwed up blond hair. “Helicopter. That’s all I should have to say.”
I snickered and held my hands up in the air. I backed away from him and his ire before dropping my hands. “You’re right, my lord. You win.”
“Fuck yes, I do. I lost hair, dammit!”
A gentle hand wrapped around my wrist and stopped my backward movement. I looked down at the man sitting comfortably in a chair with his bare feet kicked up on a footstool. Ice blue eyes stared up into my gaze. I lifted a black brow, asking tersely, “Yes, my lord?”
Lord Belshazzar mirrored me, lifting a black eyebrow, and then tugged me down onto his lap. I landed in a graceless heap on top of him. The Overlord’s chin trembled at my shocked features, but he didn’t make fun of my inelegance. He silently helped me resituate myself on his lap, though he couldn’t have missed my rigid frame. The lord even yanked a soft and thin blanket off the chair next to ours—before Lord Xenon sat on that seat—and tossed it over my body, draping it over my legs.
The lord’s eyes darted back and forth over my narrowed gaze—I was still upset with him. He tucked a piece of air behind my ear and played with my earlobe. Quietly, he asked, “How was your day?”
“I walked around the entire time.” I huffed and squinted down my nose at him. My voice was clipped. “Master Niallan’s castle is as large as ours. There’s a lot to look at.”
Lord Belshazzar hummed and stared at my ear that he continued to rub softly. “Have any trouble?”
“Other than the doll from hell? No.”
His eyes flicked to mine, then back to his playing. “How many bullets did you waste on the toy?”
My lips pinched. I wasn’t saying.
The Overlord smirked—just a little. He never took his eyes off me, his attention now wandering over my features. His tone was still quiet. “Lord Pippin emptied both of his guns before he wised up.”
“Fuck off.” Lord Pippin sighed and dropped into a reclining chair across from us. “I almost had it once.”
I rolled my eyes. That was a lie.
I hadn’t even come close to shooting my doll.
And I was almost positive I was faster than him.
Lord Belshazzar ran the pad of his right pointer finger over the curve of my eyebrow, watching the action with a hooded gaze. “Do you want to ask me anything about my day?”
I sniffed. “Not particularly.”
The Overlord sighed and pressed his forehead against mine—and left it there. His thick, dangling hair hid us from everyone else. He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine in private affection, and our blue eyes didn’t stray elsewhere, holding each other’s gazes.
He whispered softly, “How long do you typically stay mad at someone?”
Lord Pippin choked but swiftly quieted.
I ignored that lord. My attention was captured by my favorite one. I wrinkled my nose, and muttered, “There’s no time limit. Not really.”
Lord Belshazzar touched the tip of his nose against mine again. His blue eyes fell, casting his expression in a rare moment of uncertainty. On the barest breath, he breathed, “I don’t like it.”
My entire body melted against his, just like that. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cuddled closer to him, practically purring when he pulled the blanket up higher over my body to cover my shoulders too. I curled my feet around his legs and rested them on the edge of his chair.
With our foreheads still pressed together, I managed to capture his fallen gaze with mine. I whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear, “You were quite the beast earlier.”
His lashes lowered over his eyes and shuttered his gaze from me. The Overlord waited for me to carry on, not contradicting my statement.
Still too quietly for anyone else to hear, I murmured, “Why don’t you kiss me? I’ll accept that as your apology—this time.”
The lord blinked. Then his lips were on mine.
Lord Belshazzar pressed my head back, leaning over me, and he kissed me—fast. Our heartbeats linked and pounded like crazy inside our chests. His mouth caressed and coerced and petted until I opened for his onslaught of want—his request for forgiveness. The lord’s minty scent surrounded me, and his tongue dipped inside my mouth, teasing and curling against mine again and again.
Lord Belshazzar showed me how sorry he was, even if he didn’t speak the words, as he made gentle and powerful love to my mouth. He ran his hands up my neck and curled his fingers into my hair at the base of my head, holding me steady as he tipped his head for a better angle. His muscles bulged in his arms around me, not letting me go.
He embraced me like I was precious to him.
He kissed me like it was the last kiss he’d ever have.
He protected me in his arms like I was his world.
A soft moan escaped my lips.
This man was delicious. Fucking perfect.
I tightened my arms and held him closer.
His deep and soft groan curled my toes.
The Overlord possessed me at that moment.
I was his. He was mine.
We were at peace. In our own realm of rightness.
Lord Belshazzar tapered his caresses off in slow increments. He kissed the tip of my nose and pressed his forehead against mine again, his thick hair continuing to shade us in a dark cloud. Our lungs pumped just as hard as our one heartbeat and our breaths puffed against each other’s damp lips. His blink was languid and sexually satisfied as he stared into my eyes.
He whispered, “Forgiven?”
I nodded, rubbing my forehead against his.
The Overlord kept his arms around me, just holding my gaze until he eventually rested us more comfortably against the back of his chair. Our faces separated as I ducked my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I wiggled even closer against him, burrowing against his warmth. I couldn’t see his expression, but suddenly, he barked, “I swear to the sun and the stars and my blood, if you jackasses don’t find someplace else to park your intrusive interloping, I will ruin you.” Not even a second later, he grumbled, “About fucking time.”
I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to deal with the other Overlords and hummed in approval when Lord Belshazzar fixed the blanket around me that had slipped down off my shoulder with sharp jerks of his hands—very irritated at having the other lords around to witness anything personal between us.
“I’d like for the record to show that I did not—in any way, shape, or form—watch that display,” Lord Cato sputtered from far off to the side. It sounded like he was hiding underneath his blanket on his bed, his voice muffled. “Sex doesn’t bother me in the slightest…but that fucking did. Try not to do that around me again. Please.”
My lips trembled. “Forgot about him.”
“Obviously,” my father hissed.