Page 11 of City of the Lost
Oh, fuck. The ring, the fucking ring. A hysterical giggle crawled up my throat and exploded from my lips.
His lips twitched and then we both burst into laughter. It lasted mere seconds and then a hot flush of awareness swept across my skin—my wet, naked skin, which he was up close and personal with. His shirt was soaked, the skin beneath visible through the now transparent fabric. A new kind of heat unfurled in my belly.
“Wila?” His tone was pregnant with expectation.
It was the first time he’d said my name. Not Miss Bastion, but Wila, and that combined with the intimacy of the situation set my blood on fire.
I pressed a hand to his chest, intending to push him away, but my fingers curled against his taut flesh uselessly, absorbing his heat. “You should go.”
“Look at me.” His voice was an echo reverberating inside my head.
That voice, that compelling siren call of a voice. This was bad. Wrong. But my chin tilted as if of its own volition, and then I was trapped in his dragon gaze, spiraling out of control. My fingers clutched at his wet shirt, desperate to gain some kind of purchase, desperate to remove the obstruction of fabric, because he was inside me—in my mind, under my skin—tugging, drawing. I was melting, needing to be closer, while drowning in the essence of him—fire and brimstone and sweet almonds.
“Oh, fuck. Wila.” His words were a rasping throb somewhere deep inside me. “What the fuck?”
His fingers bit into my waist, and my feet left the ground. My back hit the tiles, and the roar of water blocked out everything else as his mouth descended on mine in a lip-crushing, tongue-tangling kiss. Almonds, he tasted of almonds and honey. Oh, God. Closer. I needed to be closer. As if hearing my silent plea, he lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. There was only the harsh brush of his trouser fabric against me, the taut press of his chest against my breasts, his mouth, that clever, hungry mouth, and that tugging in my chest, sweet and delicious and ...
Hungry.
The haze that had fallen over me lifted slightly. Oh, God. This was no ordinary kiss. This was something else. Something sinister.
A feeding.
He wasfeedingoff me and it felt amazing. Let him, let him have it. Were those my groans? He devoured them, rolling his groin against mine, his hard length pressing against me separated only by a thin layer of fabric. Sharp, electric pleasure radiated out from the point of contact, tightening in sweet torment until my lungs ached to take a breath. He dragged my lips between his teeth, sucking away the sting and then claiming my mouth once more. My pulse throbbed in my throat and wrists, and my heart slammed against my ribs. More. Please.
A tiny voice whimpered in the back of my mind. No, this was wrong. Dangerous. The pleasure didn’t matter. It had to stop. He thrust against me. Oh, God. Oh ... No! The voice screamed, taking control. Summoning every ounce of willpower, I shoved at Valance’s chest, bucking against him to get free.
He gripped me tighter, harder, his fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. Pain lanced up my back, and the spell was completely broken. Hurt. It hurt. I flailed, knocking against the shelf holding all the bottles and bath stuff. The clatter echoed against the tiles, and the edges of my vision bled to crimson.
Something surged up inside me, molten and dangerous and fucking furious. The splinter and crack of wood was like a gunshot, and then Valance was torn off me. Azren’s roar was a primal thing as he shoved the prince out of the bathroom.
Oh, fuck. Valance had tried to eat me, and not in a nice way. Oh, God. He’d actually... Azren, shit. I had to stop him from beating the shit out of his liege’s son. Legs like jelly, I climbed from the tub, grabbed a towel, and staggered into the hallway.
Azren had Valance pinned to the wall, fist drawn back to lay a punch.
Oh, shit. “Stop!”
Azren paused mid-punch, bicep trembling.
“Azren, you can’t. Elora will probably kill you if you hurt him.” I gripped his shoulder gently. “Please.”
Valance’s gaze was dazed, totally out of it. He looked intoxicated. His attention drifted from Azren to me. He blinked slowly several times and then his slack expression morphed into something intense and shell-shocked.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking hell.” He vanished into thin air.
* * *
The ruby ringsat in the center of the kitchen table. I nursed the mug of hot chocolate and stared at the innocuous-looking item of jewelry. Who’d have thought it could cause so much trouble? The world was still fuzzy around the edges.
“It doesn’t fit anymore.” I picked it up and turned it over. “It adapted to fit me when Valance gave it to me, but now it’s too small. Have I put on weight?”
“I think she’s in shock?” Trevor said.
“My pinky was blue. I had to take it off, and we laughed, and then he ... he kissed me, and I wanted him to.”
“That’s his power,” Azren said. “When the prince feeds, the victims die in ecstasy. You were lucky.”
Lucky? “You saved me.” I looked up at him. “You were totally gonna kick his ass.”
