Page 87 of Veiled Flames
I raise my chin, fighting to hide my fear. “Is that your price?”
“My price for what?”
“If I let you drill me, will you keep my secret?”
Shock flashes over his face, and he takes a few steps back, shaking his head. Then he laughs. “I have no need to bribe awoman to take my cock. Any wench at camp willingly spreads for me. They oft fight over my rod. I have no use for you.”
“That’s good to know,” I respond, trying to hide how my body is trembling. “Because without your pledge to keep my secret, I won’t let you touch me, and no man of honor would drill an unwilling woman.”
Something that looks like amusement flashes over his face. “What makes you think I have honor?”
He squeezes his flap again, and when his hand drops, his rod has stiffened. It’s pressing against the leather and seems much larger than the sausage he exposed to me when I entered the room.
Raising my gaze, I clear my throat, trying to get back on track. “It would be no shock to discover you lack honor,” I say. “Given your lineage.”
He strides forward. “Are you insulting my family—again? Do youwantme to kill you?”
Heart racing, I look away, cursing my words. I need to get Tynan on my side. Whether or not I let him drill me, it won’t serve to make him angry.
“I’m sorry for the insult.” I turn back to face him. “Those men are your family, no matter how?—”
“Howcruel?” he sharply finishes my sentence. “How barbaric? Brutal? Repulsive? What did you mean to say? Use your words,Princess.” He glares at me, but I sense a grin fighting to spread across his face. He’s toying with me. Pretending to be angrier than he is.
But I have no words to offer, not without delivering further insult.
He takes a few steps back and leans one arm against his wardrobe. “You’re not serious, are you?”
My mind spins, trying to suss out what he means. Between my verbal missteps and the throbbing between my legs, I’ve lost track of our conversation. “Serious about what?”
“You can’t possibly believe you can maintain your ruse as a boy. You can’t mean to continue at camp.” He frowns. “Even if you were a boy, you’re too small.” He shrugs. “And girls can’t ride dragons.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.” I cross my arms over my bound chest.
His face twitches, and his eyes brighten. “Saxon knows the truth. He knows who you are.” A grin spreads across his face, this time reaching his eyes. “It wasn’t yourbumthe master drilled in his tent.”
My cheeks light on fire, and so does every part of me. I’m not going to admit to a thing, but the heat radiating from my body may have already done that for me.
Regaining my wits, I remind myself that Tynan desires me. I may not know much about men, but I do know those signs now. Tynan’s rod is stiff. He wants to push it inside me, and I plan to use that to strike a bargain for his silence.
“How long?” I step past him, going farther into the room.
“How long for what?” he asks.
“How long until your rod is ready to—?” I gesture toward the wall, where the evidence of what caused him to shout drips down. I clearly caught him just as his rod shot its seed. I assume a man can somehow make that happen on his own, perhaps using his hand.
Tynan draws in a shuddering breath, his shock blatantly clear on his face, and his rod shifts under his breeches.
“What makes you think I would fuck mygrandmother?” He sneers, feigning indifference, feigning disgust, although he’s already threatened to do that very thing. “No chance would I fuck my grandfather’s intended wife, especially not now she’s beenruined.”
Ruined? Oh, he means how my maidenhood has been taken. The entire concept makes me angry, but I need to hide my ire.
I slide my hand over the front flap of my breeches, drawing his attention there. “Tynan. You well know I’mnotyour grandmother. I escaped that horrific fate.”
His eyes brighten for an instant, but then he quickly wipes that expression away.
“It’s obvious you want me.” I glare at his stiffness. “And you alreadytoldme your intentions, when I first arrived.” Reaching out, I stroke the carved post at the corner of his bed, running my circled fingers up and down it.
My action has its intended effect, and I watch in awe as his stomach muscles contract and his cock presses out, shifting under his flap as if seeking a way to escape. Tynan’s belly muscles are even more clearly defined than Saxon’s, and my fingers itch to touch the ridges, to test their texture and feel them react under my fingertips.
