Page 21 of Silver & Smoke
He freed his cock from his leathers and lifted her, bracing her against the wall, Wren wrapping her legs around him for stability. Torj held his breath as he lined himself up with her entrance—
Wren jerked her hips and the tip of him slid inside.
‘Fuck,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘That’s cheating.’
‘You’re taking too long—’
The curtains were suddenly ripped back.
‘Not even a week engaged, and you make a cuckold of me,’ a familiar voice sounded.
CHAPTER 11
Torj
‘A Warsword’s ability to adapt is often the difference between life and death’
– The Warsword’s Way
‘I’M NOT SUREmy heart can take it,’ Darian Devereux said dryly.
Heart hammering, Torj shielded Wren with his body, allowing her a moment to cover her exposed breasts and fix herself. He hurriedly tucked his erection back into his leathers and positioned his shirt to cover the clear outline.
Both his and Wren’s cheeks flamed as they finally faced their unintended audience.
Darian was leaning against the side of the alcove, his arms folded over his chest, shaking his head as though disappointed. ‘You lovestruck fools need to control yourselves,’ he said, in that same wry tone. ‘At least until you’re behind locked doors.’
‘What?’ Torj managed. Whatever he had been expecting his nemesis to say, that hadn’t been it.
Wren gripped his arm gently. ‘This is what I’ve been trying to tell you—’
Darian snorted. ‘Can’t say it looked like there was much conversation happening in here...’
Torj opened and closed his mouth, struggling to understand what was unfolding before him. Wren turned his face to hers, her cheeks still flushed, her lips swollen.
‘Darian isn’t the man you think he is,’ she said firmly.
Torj’s heart sank. He didn’t know what the nobleman had told her, but Darian was lying. The bastard had used honeyed words and charmed her, convinced her—
Wren raised a brow. ‘You think I’m so easily hoodwinked?’
‘No,’ Torj argued, increasingly aware of Darian’s stare. ‘I justknowhim. I know—’
‘Well, you’re about to get first-hand insight, Bear Slayer,’ Darian said sharply. ‘Don’t make a sound.’ He wrenched the curtains closed, his boots tapping across the marble floor as someone rapped on the far door.
The hinges creaked as it opened, and another pair of footsteps joined his.
‘Father,’ Darian said by way of greeting.
Holding his breath, Torj peered through the thin gap between the curtains, instantly spotting both Devereux men by the hearth. The fire cast shadows that made Lord Lucian look monstrous, while illuminating Darian’s perfect posture, but also the telltale twist of his signet ring – a tic he’d had since they were boys.
‘I’d prefer to meet in your private quarters.’ Lord Lucian surveyed the racks of bridal gowns and array of cosmetics with a look of distaste.
‘I think it wise to change locations here and there. You never know which chambermaid is listening in... Besides, I thought you’d like to witness our plans in motion before we retired to the library.’
‘If you think I have any interest in frilly dresses and gold wasted on ungrateful princesses, think again,’ Lord Lucian sneered.
‘Fair enough.’ The clinking of glasses sounded. ‘Care for a drink?’
