“They can’t. But you’re sneaky. Cunning. If anyone could betray me, it would be you.”
I didn’t know if I should feel satisfied or worried about that fact. Especially when it looked like Lorian was shaken by that little admission, and his expression had turned calculating.
“I agree. We’ll vow right now,” I blurted before he could change his mind.
Anyone with magic could complete a fae blood vow—as long as they’d learned the right steps and the correct incantation.
I swallowed. “You definitely know how to do this, right?”
Lorian just sighed. “Hold out your hand.”
In the end, it wasn’t as terrifying as I’d imagined. Lorian cut both of our palms, a thin slice that still stung and burned. He clasped our hands together, murmured a few words in a language I didn’t know, then told me to repeat those words.
“I’m not vowing to anything I don’t understand.”
He gave me a slow smile. “A good choice.”
I shivered. Would he have made me vow to something terrible?
“I could have made you my slave for the rest of your life,” he whispered in my ear. “And you would have liked it.”
I swallowed, my mouth bone-dry. “Switch to the common tongue.”
He did, and I analyzed every word as he laid out our bargain. He would take the prisoners to the city gates, along with Rythos, Cavis, Galon, and Marth. They would wait for me there, and when I handed over the amulet, our deal would be complete.
Lorian said several more strange words, and I cried out as pain erupted from my hand, spreading up my arm and into my chest. He slid his hand to the back of my neck, holding me in place. When I looked down again, both of our cuts had sealed, leaving nothing but a thin line behind.
I went to step back, but he easily held me in place. His gaze examined my face, and then he was lowering his head, his mouth finding mine.
I sighed against his lips, and he let out a growl, backing me toward the wall.
“I have no desire to watch you scream as you die,” he growled. “So you better be correct about where that amulet is.”
I didn’t want to think about that. Not now. All I wanted was for Lorian to make me forget. Just for a little while. I gazed up at him, and he cursed, his mouth capturing mine. Gods, he tasted good. Wild and a little feral and… I whimpered against his mouth, and he growled.
“You were designed to make me insane.”
He flipped our positions, and this time, he was pushing me through the sitting room, toward his bed. I stumbled, and then I was in his arms, my back hitting his soft bed.
“Dreamed of seeing you here,” he admitted, pressing a tender kiss to my lips. “Better than I could have imagined. Tell me you don’t want this, wildcat, but tell me now.”
I gazed up at him. He looked half crazed with lust. But beneath the lust was something else. Something we were both trying to pretend didn’t exist.
“I want this.”
“Then this needs to go.”
His hands found the clasp to my necklace, and he placed it on the bedside table.
Our eyes met—mine no longer hidden—and his mouth crashed down on mine. I slid my hand down his chest, unfastening his pants. Within a moment, I was stroking him, and he bucked into my hand. My stomach fluttered at the feel of him. “You’re…big.”
He just smiled against my lips. “You can take me.”
I squeezed him lightly, and he let out a rough groan, hauling me to my knees on the bed. He turned me, slowly unfastening each button, in between kisses to the back of my neck that made me want to beg him for more. He pulled down my dress, trapping my arms at my sides, and that hot, wicked mouth kissed up the side of my neck until he gently nipped at my earlobe. I gasped.
“I like you like this,” he purred. “Helpless against me.”
“I’m never helpless,” I reminded him, and he laughed.
“Oh wildcat, I plan to make you so insane with pleasure, you won’t even know where to find your magic.”
My skin prickled at the dark promise in his voice. He seemed to lose that control he valued so highly, and my dress was suddenly gone—victim to his clever hands. He let out a rough groan as he took in the scraps of lace I was wearing beneath it.
There was something incredibly arousing about hearing that groan. About knowing it was for me.
He flipped me, and his lips trailed down, across my breasts—distracting me while he did away with my underwear. And then I was bared for him, and he held my gaze as he ran one finger over the peak of my nipple.
“Do you like this?” He smiled at me. “Or this?” He roughly tweaked my other nipple, and I let out a choked moan.
“Ah,” he said. “A little pain with your pleasure?”
I shook my head, and he smiled. My breath caught in my throat, and I raised my hand, cupping his cheek. His smiles were so infrequent—and usually tinged with sarcasm. Or they were the feral kind of smiles that warned me something vicious and cutting would soon come out of that mouth. But this smile…
He smiled at me like I made him happy.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Mm-hmm. Let’s see if I can really make that busy little mind blank.”
He lowered his head, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling it until I was holding his head to me, writhing beneath him.
“So sensitive,” he murmured, moving to my other breast and giving it the same attention. My core clenched, desperate, needy in a way I’d never felt before.
“I want to touch you,” I demanded, pulling his shirt up.
He ripped off his shirt, and my mouth watered at the smooth expanse of skin. I let my hands wander, learning his body the way I’d fantasized about that day when I’d watched him bathe.
“These too.” I tugged at his waistband. He laughed against my breast.
“Demanding creature.” But he stripped them off, and my body heated further at the feel of his skin against mine.
I attempted to twine my legs around him, desperate to finally feel him inside me. He cursed as I rubbed myself against the thick length of him, too needy to feel even a hint of shame at the act.
“I don’t think so. I need to get you ready.”
“I’ve been ready.”
He ignored that, kissing his way down my belly. And if I’d thought the sight of his head between my thighs was erotic before, this was…
This was…
His naked back, his skin so warm against mine, the way he perused the heat of me as if I was his and he was deciding just how he’d best use me.
I gasped. He slowly lifted his head.
“I haven’t touched you yet, Prisca.”
“I need you.”
“I know.”
I would have scowled at his smug tone, except I could see the way he touched me with such careful restraint. The way he closed his eyes as his fingers found my slick core and he pushed my desire higher. And higher.
“Lorian.”
“Gods, when you beg. It’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. Do it some more for me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
My cheeks blazed, but I met his gaze. He waited for me.
“There’s no shame between us,” he murmured. “Never. Now, tell me what you want.”