Page 96 of Promise of Darkness
Fuck. “Harder. More. Please. Please, Thiago.”
He has his fingers inside me, and he fucks them there mercilessly, one hand pinning my wrists to the bed, and the other wreaking sweet torture.
I thrash and buck, my breath coming in sharp, harsh pants.
I see a thousand stars, biting my lip so hard I want to scream. And then he’s doing exactly as he promised. His thumb presses down ruthlessly, and I don’t even have the breath to beg for more. I shoot over the edge, shattering into a million tiny pieces.
He holds me through the aftermath, his face burrowed against my throat and his own harsh pants landing wetly on my skin.
Slowly, he lifts his head, capturing my gaze, and then he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth and sucks my moisture from them. “I hate every fucking moment of this curse, except for this one. The moment of surrender.”
Sweet merciless fuck.
My head falls back on the bed. I don’t know how I’ve managed to retain any of my wits at all. “How many times have we done that?”
His eyes darken, and I can sense his pain in the roughness of his voice. “Far too many times to count.”
“If it’s any consolation”—I let a trembling hand skate up the plane of his chest, brushing my thumbs against the roughened stubble of his jaw—“practice makes perfect.”
He nips at my fingers, then lowers himself onto all fours over me, his massive arms caging me in. “Are you asking me to continue?”
I think about it.
In my mother’s court, sex is often used as a weapon or a political maneuver. I learned that lesson when I was eighteen and Etan of the Goldenhills taught me I couldn’t trust a honeyed tongue or a passionate kiss. While the other women of the court enjoyed such pursuits, or laid their own, I was somewhat choosier.
Sex isn’t just a means to an end for me. Nor is it a means to answer the questions that brew inside me. I need those questions answered first, before I allow him to take further intimacies.
“I—”
He presses a finger to my mouth. “You don’t need to say it. I can see it in your eyes.”
Thiago leans down, replacing his finger with his lips as he presses the softest of kisses to my mouth. My resolve is just beginning to weaken when he finally breaks the kiss.
A dark smile curls over his mouth as he pushes away from the bed. “Let me know if you want to test your memory again. Until then…. You’d best get dressed, Vi. Before I forget my promise to give you time to remember me.”
A pent-up breath explodes from me as he strides toward the chair where his shirt lies. But it can’t slake the furious burn of unfulfilled desire.
“You bastard.”
Thiago laughs as he snatches up his shirt. “Your move, Vi. It’s always been your move.”
24
It takes me several days to recover from the onslaught of the curse breaking. I spend those days either sleeping or roaming the battlements of Ceres, looking down at the town.
I know now why Thiago kept me locked away up here.
There are too many people in the town who know who I am. All it would take would be one slip, and then the curse’s steely trap might have snapped shut and driven me mad.
It reminds me of my mother’s court. Doors slamming in my face. All those nobles and emissaries glancing at me from a distance before they were whisked away. It was never obvious how closely guarded I was, but my mother ascertained that I was kept away from anyone who might reveal the truth.
All those lonely hours in the stables or in the library were merely another sort of prison.
“Vi,” Thiago calls, breaking me out of my reverie. He’s striding along the battlements toward me. “The others are in my war chamber. Do you think you’re ready to join us?”
After days of mindless recovery, I’m ready to rejoin even my mother’s court.
Or not quite.
