Page 213 of Severed Heir

He bit back a groan, eyes darkening. “Tell me how you feel.”

Heat curled through me. “You want me to…” I hesitated, the words catching. “To touch myself?”

He didn’t flinch. “More than anything in this world. I want you to feel what I do. I want you to slide your fingers down and tell me how wet you are.”

I swallowed, breath catching. “I’ve never… I’ve never done that. Not like this.”

Something shifted in his expression—less hunger, more tenderness. “Then we don’t rush. You don’t need to be embarrassed, Sev. But one day,” he murmured, drawing me closer by the thigh, “I would love nothing more than to watch you come apart like that.”

His voice dipped lower. “But for now… spread your thighs and sit on my face.”

My legs fell open as he pushed a finger inside my opening and then licked and sucked until I was biting back moans. His hands left my body and began to undress his slacks.

“I take it back,” I said. “I’ll bond with you.” At this point, I was a horny mess practically grinding against his face.

He pulled me down, centering his erect cock near my opening. He slowly stroked the tip back and forth, coating both of us in my arousal. “I won’t open a bond with you, not until I know you mean it,” he said.

I whimpered as his tip slipped in and out at a tortuously slow pace. “Even if I beg?”

His arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me flush against him as he drove himself deep inside me, a low curse tumbling from his lips. “Even if you beg,” he whispered.

And I did beg, though not just for the pleasure. I think, deep down, I was desperate to know what he was thinking.

Chapter Forty-One

Hadrian had received an official letter from the king five days later, inviting his heir to partake in the Serpent Trial for his crown.

I sat beside Estella at the dining table, my mind swirling with questions. “How many heirs have been chosen?” I asked, not entirely sure what to expect.

“Twelve,” Hadrian replied, sipping from his cherry morning tea. “I shall send the best trainer for you.”

“Do you know the names of the heirs?” I asked. My heart skipped a beat, but I tried to keep my voice steady.

Hadrian stirred a spoonful of sugar into his tea, calm as ever. “Your father did not choose his heir. His heir chose to join.”

Once, hearing Bridger’s name in the same sentence as my trial would have sent dread ricocheting through my chest. But over time, I had come to understand him—a boy forced to kneel for a man he despised, oblivious to the weight of a kingdom already crumbling.

“Who else?” I asked, bracing myself.

“Damien Lynch,” Hadrian said, his gaze lifting to meet mine over the rim of his cup. “And Monty Garcia has decided to take his chances.”

I groaned under my breath. “Not Monty. He’s the biggest asshole on this Continent.”

Hadrian grunted. “Where did you learn such grotesque language? He’s our ally, Severyn.”

“I’m not calling him an ally. He’s an asshole, and I won’t apologize for saying so.”

His brow arched. “What do you call me when I’m not in the room?”

I shrugged. “You’re just… Hadrian.”

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on the table and sank my face into my hands. “What happens now? Between Wrathi and Demetria, now that Archer and I are courting?”

Hadrian didn’t blink. “I offered him sunlight. The deal is sealed. And unlike his father, I won’t take it back.”

I sat up straighter. “Wait—what? You gave him sunlight?”

He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s politics. I asked for stars and silver in return. He’s courting my heir. That alone demands a trade.”

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