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I shifted closer, bracing my hand on the pillar above her head so she was framed in by my body.

“I think you would,” I said softly, rubbing the bulge in my trousers against her soft ass. “I think you want to fuck me right now, in front of everyone. I think you want to throw every tradition to the wind, every arcane vestige of this kingdom, and damn it all to hell.”

I leaned in, brushing my lips against the curve of her neck, breathing her in. A low, dark chuckle rumbled up in my chest. “Oh, yes. I can smell how much you want it. But we must observe the traditions, at least until darkness falls.”

Veyka ground her hips backward against mine—revenge, and a challenge.

How many ways could we touch each other, without giving in or being noticed? I tugged on the end of her braid, hard enough that her head tilted to the side, exposing her neck. I dragged my canines along the smooth column, careful not to break the skin.

Veyka’s answer was to catch my hand in hers. She skated my fingertips over the curve of her breasts. She let me feel the heat of her stomach, soft and exposed and waiting for me to worship. Then she lifted those fingertips to her lips and kissed them. With the pads pressed to her lips, she darted out her tongue, where no one else could see. Then her teeth. Just a little nip. A promise, and a reminder, that two could play this game.

My eyes went skyward. The sun still had a painfully long way to go.

By nightfall, I wasn’t certain that either of us would still be standing.

50

VEYKA

I hadn’t breathed normally in hours. Every breath was a desperate pant for air, to get what I needed into my lungs before Arran’s next assault. His clever, cruel fingers took me apart piece by piece. The aural loosened my reserve.

Every time I thought of that blasted round table, I arched into Arran’s touch. When the darkness threatened, I let myself sink into his instead. Dark, yes, but pleasurable. So pleasurable, I was a breath away from coming just from his hot hands on my skin.

I was on my third goblet of aural. Or was it my fourth?

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t think, which was the entire point. The only thing anchoring me to reality, keeping me from becoming a drunken puddle on the goldstone tiles, was Arran’s never-ending touch on my body.

Then the sun dipped below the horizon.

The priestess tried to say something, but it was lost to the wet sounds of kissing and moans of pleasure. Arran and I weren’t the only ones who’d been teasing and touching all day. My entire court was a second from combusting, and if that self-important prophesizing priestess was unable to stop it, I just enjoyed it.

And as the furor of lust took over the goldstone palace, I gave myself over to it willingly.

I reached for Arran’s hand, ready to drag him back to my bedroom.

But he grabbed me first, slamming my hands onto the wall of the pillar. I ricocheted back against him, his hard body caging me in against the wall. Warm goldstone tickled the tips of my breasts while Arran’s hard, hot body ground against my back. I was nothing more than a blazing inferno, a candle lit at both ends and ready to dissolve.

Arran didn’t give me time to catch up. His hand was on my pussy, shoving my skirts aside roughly as he slid a finger inside of me, then another. And then… oh, Ancestors… a third. I was powerless to stop the deep moan ripping from my throat.

“You like that, do you,” he said into my ear, tearing at the lobe with his sharp teeth. “Let your entire court hear how I make you moan.”

He fucked me with his fingers, too fucking slow but so wonderfully deep. I bit hard on my lip, trying to hold it in, not wanting to give in to him. Defiant to the last. But I was so full of him, so impossibly full. Then he curved his fingers inside of me, scraping his fingertips over that soft spot inside of me only I’d ever been able to find.

I threw back my head, howling my pleasure to the wind. Arran caught it, his fingers curling tightly around my throat. “Oh yes, my Queen, let me serve you.”

My orgasm was so close. Ancestors, it was all happening so fast. So fast, I couldn’t stop myself as my hips began to ride him, demanding release. My roars of passion soared through the air, but I didn’t care if there was one person watching us or a thousand. Not as that pressure released, as a flood of liquid spilled out of me, covering my thighs and splashing into a puddle on the floor.

Shock rolled through me—I’d realized such a thing was possible, but I’d never done it before. I grabbed Arran’s forearm to keep myself upright, legs shaking treacherously beneath me. I tried to maneuver myself around to see his face, but I was met instead with a searing kiss.

His tongue swirled around mine, demanding and fast. Then his tongue was gone, replaced by his fingers as he forced them into my mouth, forcing me to suck my own juices from his fingers, turned wrinkled with the force of my orgasm.

I gave up entirely then. I was going to let Arran take me wherever he wanted to go, whatever he wanted to do.

So my squeak was surprise but not resistance when he pushed me back up against the pillar. For once, he didn’t go for my breasts, intent this time on torturing my pussy instead. The force of his body held me against the wall, while one hand probed at my dripping opening. I felt the other behind me, then the length of his cock pressed against my gown.

A rip, and there was nothing but his hot, velvety skin against mine.

But instead of sliding into my pussy, he pulled back that hand dripping with my juices and rubbed it over the tight puckered opening of my ass. He massaged my juices around and around, even as his other hand began to mirror the motion on my clit.