Page 10 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

“But it is not, Perantiqua. It is not.”

There would be no intellectual agreement with us tonight. I guided him with my fingers under his chin to the other breast and ignored his cold chuckle.

As he drew my nipple into his mouth, I felt reverence take hold of him. He sat straighter on the couch and splayed his hands over my upper back to press me closer. King See was gripped by the wonder of all I was. He who was lucky enough to touch me, and who would touch me always and fight for the right to do so.

King See rumbled and circled and rolled and kneaded.

Such urgency in me. Such reverence in him.

My breast bounced when he released it.

Midnight must flush me thoroughly. There was no speaking through the want of him.

See gripped my jaw and forced my hazy sights to his face. “What next, young queen?”

My mind swam in our romantic fantasy. He would lift my dress and fill me suddenly and all the way. I would ride him as though he were my final breath. His hands would rock my hips faster than my mind could fathom.

The king who had withheld his touch to hurt me.

The king with whom I shared a destiny.

And what then?

What happened after he filled me, and I let him?

Something would. Something unpredictable.

The possibilities were a cold slap because King See had asked me to direct our pleasure. And if I said yes? Then that would be my admission that heart and body did not need to coexist.

The responsibility of that admission never existed when our powers acted as the middleman. But in the flesh…

Such admission existed in the flesh.

And two could play at that game. For as See wished to drive me to loveless touch, so too could I do the opposite to him.

I rose higher still to brush my lips against his ear and my breasts against his throat. “If only you knew of my wicked fantasies. Such fidgeting just for thinking them. I do not know that I will ever speak them aloud.”

His hands found my hips. “Speak them, maiden. You need not feel shame.”

Never so easily, my king.

I leaned back to trace my finger over his thin lips. I had kissed them once. I wanted to again, more than I wanted most things. Our first kiss had felt preordained as I lay shimmering on the edge of insanity and he paced the edge of madness.

This moment was not preordained or life-affirming or soul-centering, and a kiss was more meaningful than his mouth on my breasts.

I slipped my breasts back inside my corset. “I think not. I could not speak such things to a king who does not care for all parts of me.”

His lips curved. “I see your game.”

I was sure that he did. “Good evening, sir. What a shame there will be no lesson today.”

“I am disappointed indeed.”

His reply gave me pause, so purring and inauthentic as it was. Only the pause was needed to connect that King See would have been blinded to princesses at dusk when I had sent the letters out.

He would have known princesses would be here at this time.

So See had never intended to give me a lesson in war, just toappearto be making good on his obligations. Which meant he did not wish to make good on his lessons at all.

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