Page 126 of A Dance of Water

The blindfold only made her more enticing.

Bastian’s eyes flashed dark red, and he stacked some thick parchment together, the rustle of pages filling the room. "Would you like to tell him, or should I?" Bastian said.

At the sound of the vampire’s voice, Luella melted on Tharen’s lap, some of the tension leaving her. "Bastian," she breathed. "How did I get h-here?"

Tharen curled his fingers around her waist, pressing his lips to her ear. "Don’t tell me you’re that stupid, lamb. You know." He pressed a hand over her thigh, where the wet material of her thin robe clung to every bit of her milky, soft skin. Goosebumps erupted on her flesh as he trailed a finger up the side of her thigh. "I wonder, what were you doing before you just… showed up?"

"I… I was?—"

Graves roughly pulled off his cloak and balled it up, throwing it at him. Tharen reached out and caught it before it could hit Luellain the face. She didn’t even flinch—he would have to work on that awareness. Tharen draped the cloak over her shoulders, sadly covering her vulnerable state.

Finally, Graves broke his silence… "Enough with the games, Tharen. Say what you’ve done."

"There it is," Tharen cajoled. "I knew you’d figure it out." He looked to Vale and said, "Come on, I’m sure you know, you just don’t want to admit I got the upper hand."

Vale’s whole body shook, smoke slowly leaking from his nostrils.

"Figurewhatout?" Luella curled her hand into a fist and weakly punched at his chest.

The doors to the advisory room banged open. Azgorath stood at the threshold, bare-chested, dripping water, and so angry that Tharen couldn’t hold back his deep laughter.

The demon’s amber eyes found Luella, wet and curled on Tharen’s lap, and he stormed forward, water dripping everywhere.

"Don’t get water on my floors." Bastian sighed, resting his chin on a hand.

"Shut up," the demon seethed. His horns curled over his head menacingly, nostrils flaring as he stood on the other side of Tharen, staring down the King at his other side.

Luella’s hands weakly fumbled in the air before her, searching for Azgorath. He took her hands gently and knelt, seeming not to care that he was so close to Tharen.

The demon mumbled gentle words to her, his dark brown curls hanging wetly around his face.

Tharen stared down his nose at him. Kneeling for a weak female… His lip curled.

"So, that’s who you were with," Tharen said. His hand snaked under Graves’s cloak, and he brushed a finger over her thigh. She twitched, clenching her thighs harder around him at the spark between them. "Are you feeling a little dissatisfied, lamb?"

A blush pinked her pale cheeks, but she said nothing.

Azgorath looked up at him. "I knew you had something to do with this, you bastard."

Tharen chuckled darkly.

The sound seemed to make Vale’s hold on his dragon snap, forburning embers filled the room, smoke wafting from the King’s nostrils as he all but roared, "Luella, tell me what you gave in your bargain to him."

She shifted awkwardly on Tharen’s lap, biting down hard on her bottom lip. The moment seemed to stretch on, and Tharen wanted nothing more than to throw her back down on Bastian’s advisory table and coat it with their pleasure. Fuck, the vampiric asshole would probably love to see her arousal glimmering on the oaken surface.

As if the vampire had heard his thoughts, Bastian gave the slightest of smiles.

The air was terse, and one of her hands fisted in Tharen’s shirt, the other white-knuckled as she held onto the demon.

Finally, she could remain silent no longer. She buried her head in Tharen’s neck, tiny breaths puffing against his skin as she whispered against him, "I… I offered up my first pleasure."

And chaos erupted.

43

TRICKERY AND DECEIT

VALE

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