“Oh yes, my lady. The servants in the palace who were hired from near here, from in town—they’ve got all kinds of stories about pirates raiding Thanniran ships lately. A month ago, two Thanniran galleons sank a pirate ship. They plucked all the pirates out of the sea, and the mayor of Oleyra hanged them all. Right before they killed the ship’s captain, he swore to the gods that the Pirate King would be coming for vengeance.”
“Sounds implausible. You shouldn’t listen to such stories.” I take a bite of a cookie with jam in the center. As she leaves the room, I add, “Meldare, bring me a book with pirates in it, too.”
“Yes, my lady. Oh, and your cowrie shell is on the dresser there.”
My heart should not flutter when I look at a fucking seashell.
And yet it does.
20
He’s perfect as he is.
I was fading in and out of consciousness, but I heard my Princess say it. She can’t deny it or take it back. But I won’t mention it either. I don’t fancy being stabbed in the chest.
After the servants wash the sand and blood off me, they bring me to her. She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, holding a teacup and reading a book.
She looks up. Meets my eyes.
There’s a pull between us, like the sucking force of waves being drawn back into the ocean.
Then she hardens her expression, feigning cool indifference. “Ducayne, you will read to me. I don’t like trying to handle a book and a teacup at the same time.”
“I’m yours to command,” I tell her in my deepest, most seductive tone. I’m rewarded by a slight change in her breathing.
She hands over the book. “Did you know that some books have murder, weapons, death, horror,andromance? I thought I would hate reading sex in a book, but it’s—not all bad. Oh, before you begin—”
She sets aside her cup and slides off the bed. From a drawer she takes my least favorite items—the two jeweled nipple clamps.
After my healing and washing, the servants dressed me in a pair of loose pants and a web of thin silver chains over my shoulders and pectorals. As fate would have it, my nipples are exposed, unprotected. Shit.
I lay the book open on a chair and ready myself for the pain.
“You were naughty today,” Ruelle says. “You pursued your own amusement without a thought for mine. You stripped in full view of everyone, without my permission. You dumped me in the ocean without asking first. And you—you stared at Vienne’s breasts.”
“Everyone was staring at Vienne’s breasts. They’re too large to ignore.” My nipples harden and goosebumps break out over my skin as she brings one of the clamps nearer. “And if we’re tallying the events of the day, shouldn’t I get some points for making you laugh and saving your life?”
She looks up at me. “I make the rules. And also, there are no rules except my will.” Her slim fingers pluck at the thin silver chains looping over and around my pecs and shoulders. “What is this contraption?”
I shrug.
“I rather like the effect,” she says faintly. Then she clips the first clamp in place, and I let out a quiet moan at the pinch of pain. She dances her fingers over the chains, up to my neck, and takes my throat in her hand. My cock stiffens.
“I think I’ll collar you for dinner,” she muses.
“I prefer your hands.”
She lets go of my neck and thumbs my other nipple. It’s all I can do to stay still. To hold back. I want to crush her beneath me, savor her mouth, pump my hips against hers. I want to take her sweet and slow, then rough and fast.
“We’ll go to the shrine of Arawn tomorrow.” She pats my breast before affixing the second clamp. “We’ll burn three tins of incense, one for each of the dead. Did you know that death rituals are conducted in threes?”
“Are they?” I breathe, barely listening.
“Yes.” Her hand travels down my stomach, over the bulging muscle. “A sacrifice of three souls to Arawn yields great power, fortune, and protection.”
A strange thing for her to say, but I don’t dare answer, or move. She has never touched me like this, and if I allow myself to smile, to blink, to breathe, she might stop.
Her fingers pause at my waistband. She’s looking at the pronounced shape under my pants.