Page 50 of The King's Omega
It was more intimate, in some ways, than my moments with Vilkurn, Axe, and Lorn. Rigol wasn’t looking at my body; he was hearing my soul.
He turned in the chair and stared into my eyes, his own wide with wonder. “Vali, may I kiss you?” I took a deep breath, realizing the sour tang of oil in his scent was nearly gone.
He smelled of musk and pine and male. “May I?” he repeated. “Just once.”
I nodded, still purring, and closed my eyes as his lips moved over mine so gently it felt like a whisper, a thought. Then he moved more firmly, and my lips opened, allowing his tongue entrance.
Allowing him inside me. A strange sensation tightened my core, a warmth gathering there. His kiss grew deeper, his tongue probing, and I had a sudden vision of us entwined, more than just his tongue entering me.
A rush of heat spread between my legs, and the room bloomed with the scent of fruit and honey.
Rigol pulled back, startled. “Vali?” I kept my eyes tightly shut, not sure what to say.
My body had already said too much. I felt him stand, heard him move away, across the room. His breathing was harsh, but so was mine. I felt a flash of fear, but he did nothing else, didn’t speak.
Could I truly forgive him? Could I ask the Goddess to open me to him, if that meant I could help save Rimholt?
I had a sinking feeling I would take him, even if Rimholt fell. How had I gone from hating this man to almost admiring him, all in less than a month?
When had I begun to see him as Rigol, and not just my king?
Finally, I opened my eyes. He stood behind his desk, his expression soft, amused. He signed, “Lesson finished.”
I signed back the best I could. “Good lesson. Nice kiss.”
He roared with laughter. “Who taught you that sign, little one?”
“What did I say?”
“Well, kiss was right. But that,” he copied my sign, “means a kiss, um, on certain areas. I’m curious where you learned that.”
I shrugged; I wasn’t going to betray Sorcha.
He muttered under his breath. “Here is a simple kiss.” He made a different sign.
“Oh.” Awkward. I tried again. “Nice kiss.”
“It was indeed.” Then he signed something that looked like “again?”but at that moment the door flew open. The guard from outside bowed low. “Sire, General Asher has returned with a prisoner. He requests your presence in the dungeon.”
The king sketched a quick bow, and before I could process the fact that he had just bowed to me, he strode out the door.
Mischief meowed. I picked her up and tucked her into my pocket, intending to return her to the king’s chambers, and then return to the laundry for a stern, self-administered lecture about inappropriate kisses with royalty. But my feet took me in a different direction entirely and I followed the king’s faint pine musk as it twisted through corridors and down staircases.
I realized where I was when a young guard stopped me. His face was pimply and his hair oily. Goddess, he was only a child. I supposed most of the able-bodied men were already at the front lines. “Miss, this isn’t a place for you.”
I straightened. “The torture dungeon?”
The guard looked confused. “Is there any other kind, miss?”
“How little you know.” I took a breath, watching the boy’s eyes move from my face to my breasts. I took another breath, and he was hooked. “I need to enter,” I said, channeling my Visiting Princess persona. “I’m expected to help with the questioning.”
“With the lady?” His eyes shot back up to my face, and I gave him a look I’d seen employed in the Sow a thousand times. I’d just never tried it myself.
I ran one hand over my bodice, inhaling until I thought my stays might burst. “There are many ways to torture a man… or a woman. I’m an expert at convincing both sexes to reveal their dark, dirty secrets.” The throaty purr in my voice probably sounded ridiculous, but this guard was young and gullible.
“Of course.” His eyes never ventured above my neckline. “Very convincing.”
And he let me into the torture dungeon.
