Page 104 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I tried to stay on topic. “Is it normal for the Heirloom to warm up?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. There aren’t exactly instruction manuals for ancient artifacts of power. I had to piece things together from dozens of obscure sources.”

I snorted. “A manual would have been much easier. ‘Congratulations on your purchase of the Heirloom of Dominion. Please note that activation requires blood sacrifice and/or earth-shattering sex with your unwilling bride.’“

His lips twitched. “Unwilling?”

“Initially unwilling,” I amended, feeling heat rise in my cheeks again.

His voice dropped an octave, taking on that rough edge that sent shivers down my spine. “Because I seem to rememberyoucoming to findme.And you were remarkably... insistent.”

I cleared my throat. “So what happens now?” I asked, seeking safer conversational ground. “King Auremar won’t stop.”

“No, he won’t,” Kazimir agreed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “But we’ll be ready. Let him come.”

I frowned. “He can’t just want me for a political trophy. I’ve been kidnapped and married, so it doesn’t make me prime queen material. What could he possibly want with me that’s worth starting a war?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Kazimir’s jaw tightened, a flicker of fury crossing his features. “He knows something about your bloodline that’s important enough to risk everything.”

“But there are others with heroic blood. Why me specifically?”

“I don’t know yet.” He pushed my hair over my shoulder to expose my neck. “Whatever their plan, I’m not letting them succeed.”

There was nothing gentle in his promise, only that dark, possessive glimmer that both alarmed and excited me. “I’ve set a monitoring spell on the Heirloom. If its power continues to build, we’ll know.” His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, to the open collar of his shirt that I was wearing. “In the meantime...”

He tugged on my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. The simple touch sent sparks of pleasure racing down my spine, and I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped me.

He murmured, “Still sensitive?”

“You could say that,” I breathed.

“Good.” He leaned closer, pressing a featherlight kiss to my neck that had me sagging against him. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Kazimir parted the collar to expose more of my throat and lightly grazed my skin with his teeth. His hand remained firmly tangled in my hair, keeping my head tilted back and my throat exposed to his exploration.

I melted into him, my hands finding their way beneath his tunic to the warm skin and scars beneath, feeling the heat of him as he continued his assault on my neck. He hummed against my skin, his free hand sliding up my thigh. When his hand slid under what passed for my hem, he froze at finding bare skin. A low, appreciative sound escaped him. “No undergarments?”

I shrugged, breath hitching when he teased my inner thighs. “I came straight here to check on Nyx. I… didn’t think about it.”

“Then I’ll get the names of every servant you passed on the way,” he growled possessively.

My heart drummed a little faster. “Why? So you can play golf with their eyeballs?”

“That would be merciful compared to what I have in mind.”

“Don’t you dare.” I grabbed his wrist, half to stop him from conjuring some violent retribution and half to encourage his wandering fingers to keep going. “The servants like me, and I don’t want you to mess that up.”

He chuckled darkly, leaning in to kiss me, swallowing the gasp I made when his hand pressed exactly where I was most sensitive.

I hardly registered what I was doing as I grabbed the edge of his tunic, yanking it over his head. The sight of his runes and scars in the warm haze of the stables made me want to explore them again. I traced one with a fingertip, noticing how his breathing caught.

He groaned. “This is going to escalate quickly.”

I replaced my finger with my lips, pressing a kiss to the center of the spiral. His hand tightened in my hair. I smiled against his skin, and continued my exploration, tracing the patterns with lips and tongue, learning which ones made him tense and which made him moan. When my lips reached the waistband of his trousers, he tugged my hair again and hauled me up.

His expression was raw in a way I’d never seen before. “Enough,” he gasped. He bundled my bare legs in his discarded tunic, then scooped me off the hay bale and made for the stable door. “I don’t want to burn anything down.”

From her corner, Nyx projected a strong sense of agreement, tinged with alarm.

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