Page 55 of The Shattered Kingdom
Mason doesn’t know anything about what I like. I have half a mind to get up, rejecting his invitation and hurting his feelings, but I don’t. The head of his cock is pressing directly against my clit, and it feels good.
“Kie’s back,” Mason warns. He props himself up on his elbows and adjusts my dress, covering me. Kie bursts through the bedroom door a second later.
My back is to the door, and I avoid looking at Kie for fear of giving myself and Mason away.
I’m frozen in place.Kie’s back. Kie was gone because somebody tried to stop my heart. I’ve been so distracted by Mason that it almost completely slipped my mind. It’s only been an hour. How can I have forgotten somebody tried to murder me only an hour ago?
I blame the mate bond. It’s messing with my head, warping my sense of importance.
“Jackie and I have narrowed the list to fourteen people,” Kie says. “They’re being monitored. I want to know what they’re up to.”
Mason sits up further, and I flinch as his cock drags againstmy slit. He doesn’t spare me a glance as he places a hand against my lower back, keeping me in place.
“Are you kidding me?” he asks. He shakes his head. “You let them go, and you’re working with Jackie? What the fuck, Kie? You said you’d take care of this.”
Mason’s asking the right questions.
Kie sighs, stepping farther into the room. “I can’t order the execution of nobility over a hunch. I need proof, and I wasn’t going to get it today. Jackie knows everything. You know that as well as I do, and you also know she wasn’t involved in the attack.”
I hate hearing Jackie’s name.
Mason shifts, and I shoot him a warning look. Every movement rubs him against me. It’s too much, and I don’t want Kie to know what we were up to. It’s humiliating. I hate Mason, yet here I am grinding against his bare cock.
I’m ashamed of my attraction toward the shifter, and I don’t want anybody, not even Kie, to know about it.
“Who’s on the list?” Mason asks.
He presses against my lower back, urging me to grind against him as I was earlier. I shut my eyes, hoping the lack of visual stimulation will help me focus on Kie. My arms are shaking with the effort of holding myself back.
Kie rattles off several names I don’t bother listening to, his voice growing louder as he nears. I’m acutely aware of his presence as he walks up behind me.
“Your heart is strong,” he says.
He pulls off his gloves, and I twitch against Mason as Kie brings his bare fingers toward me. I feel like a dog begging for pets as I lean into him, desperate for his touch.
Kie skims my shoulder, and I draw in a shaky breath as he pushes my dress sleeve down my arm. He ripped the fabric earlier, making it easy to remove. Mason rolls his hips beneath me, and Ipretend to need more stability as I slide my hands up his torso. I doubt I’m fooling anybody.
“Two of them are known shifter supporters,” Kie says. He brushes my other sleeve off my shoulder, and his throat bobs as he pulls the front of my dress down. “Jackie thinks—”
Mason grunts. “Stop talking about her.”
It’s like he’s read my mind, and I’m grateful he said it instead of me. I’d rather die than let my jealousy show. It gives Kie and Mason too much power.
Kie’s violet eyes flash toward Mason. I take the chance to admire Kie. I’ve seen Mason’s body several times, but I’ve never really seen Kie. Even when we were in the forest, he was discreet with his nudity.
Mason pushes against my lower back again. The movement rocks me forward, and I hiss as my clit rubs directly against Mason’s length. The stimulation is almost constant now. It’s too much.
“We should remain open to the possibility that the shifters were behind this,” Kie says.
Mason grunts, the vein in his neck bulging as he reaches behind himself and grabs the bed's headboard. He’s fully thrusting against me now, meeting each of my slight movements with desperate ones of his own.
“The shifters had no part in this,” he says. His knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s gripping the headboard.
Kie brushes my hair out of my face, his bare fingers barely grazing my skin. I want more, but I won’t ask.
“Harder,” Mason orders.
I plant my hands against his chest, growing desperate. This is too much. My hips begin to rock on their own accord.
