Page 7 of Blood Sweeter than Honey (Fated to the Cowboy #1)

WINNOW

BELLORUM REALM

“ A little to the left.” The male whose face is currently buried between my thighs gives a muffled grunt in acknowledgement as he shifts to my right. My eyes slide shut, and I draw in a deep breath to muster patience. “The other left.”

Relief suffuses me as Lord Evermere slides to my left and reaches my clit, but my hope is quickly dashed as he simply passes over it in favor of suckling my left labia.

He gives another inquisitive hum to which I reply by fisting his hair and manually moving his mouth directly onto my clit.

He seems to realize in the same moment that he’s finally found the treasure we sought and doubles his efforts.

His soft, slender fingers stroke in and out of me as his tongue continues to work.

My eyes stare blankly at the ceiling.

There’s a yawning cavern in my chest, and despite Evermere’s efforts, he only makes me all the more aware of it. And while I am little more than an adolescent by godly standards, I’m still too old—38 years—to muster the desire to offer him feigned cries and moans of sexual gratification.

This job as Duchess Paramount has slowly been draining the life out of me, and I’ve taken to seeking my happiness in bedfellows.

It isn’t working.

I have to glamour my horns and tail to make myself more palatable, and most of the time, I’m certain they only want to share my company in the hopes of gaining royal favor and coin.

Little do they know, there is no coin.

Even years later, rebuilding after the war has proven to be an endless expense. One that I will happily pay for to provide my people with what they need. Even if it means cutting corners and selling family heirlooms to overseas royalty.

So now, to share my bed with yet another male, who not only does not know how to pleasure me, but his only motive is to gain whatever status or wealth he thinks I can give him…

Again, Lorne’s words return to me.

““Your royal blood means nothing if that’s all you have to give. So what else do you have to offer me, girl? A pretty cunt?”

Something inside me snaps like the trunk of a tree finally giving way after being hacked away by a persistent axe.

“Stop.”

Evermere releases my clit with a squeaking pop. Other than his lips, his face is bone dry when it should be drenched with my arousal. If I were actually aroused.

When he lifts his head from between my legs, with his mussed hair and pinched eyebrows, he looks so very much like a lost puppy. It is then that he falls from an ‘I-guess-you’ll-do-for-now-lover’ to a palm-sized beast.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

Oh my fuck. When was the last time someone asked me if I’m ok?

Regardless of the fact that he’s only asking because I’ve interrupted him, the simple question makes me long for tenderness I haven’t experienced since before my parents were killed.

Draping an arm over my eyes, sudden emotion swells. My chin trembles beneath my lips as I barely manage to whisper the words.

“I need to get out of here.”

The bed dips beside me as Evermere attempts to wrap me in his arms. Despite the fact that we’ve slept together for months, the gesture feels perfunctory and awkward. Like he’s simply doing what he thinks he should, but actually feels no emotion or genuine concern.

And it makes me want to jump out of my fucking skin.

“As in a vacation?”

I huff a helpless, sardonic laugh, parroting his words.

“A vacation.”

I haven’t been on a vacation since I was a child.

My eyes open, peeking out from beneath my forearm to stare up at the ceiling like it’s a winning lottery ticket. “The idea has merit.”

Lord Evermere’s thumb strokes against my arm, and it may as well have been a touch laced with boiling acid because the sensation to me, at that moment, is so vile, I can’t help but leap from the bed.

Before his eyes can linger too long on the scars peppering my back, I will my silk robe over my nude form.

The one with the feathered collar and cuffs that I’ve had since before I became a duchess.

It’s one of the last remaining personal comforts that I’ve allowed myself.

If Evermere were to look inside my jewellery cabinet, he’d see that only one singular item of considerable wealth remains.

The gaudy jewel-encrusted duchy coronet I was burdened with when my cousin, Queen Theia, enthroned me as a duchess. I’m fairly certain it’s illegal to sell it, but Akash knows I won’t feel an iota of guilt leaving it behind…

Scratch that.

I can feel the guilt settling in already, but I’m far too determined to let it stop me.

“Where are you going?”

I halt, mid-stride to my boudoir to glance back at Evermere. Admittedly, the fae male’s cock is as pretty as his face, but alas, it does nothing for me. His expression is contorted in a pout, and his malehood is indignantly erect. I’m certain if it had a face, it’d be pouting at me, too.

Evermere catches me staring at it, and waggles his eyebrows at me as he gives it a languorous stroke. The sight is so ridiculous that my lips curl over my teeth to stifle my giggle.

Akash almighty, please take me somewhere far, far away.

Tossing my verdelume-flower-filled strawberry-blonde hair over one shoulder, I resume my determined march to the boudoir.

“On vacation. Thank you for the suggestion. I take it you can see yourself out? The day’s half gone, so I really must make haste.”

The door slams shut from the force of excitement bubbling up within me. I’m grinning maniacally at what remains of my finely tailored clothing. Scarce as it is, if Lord Evermere were to actually see inside, he’d likely clutch his cravat.

There’s a mountain of parchment on my vanity table and it’s dimming my exuberance. It’s entirely unheard of for a Duke or Duchess Paramount, such as myself, just to disappear. Reginald will likely have a heart attack when he realizes I’m gone.

Or he’ll be relieved because he’ll be able to rule in my stead.

The fact that Reginald would be a far better Duke than I will ever be, gives the last bit of resolve I need to push forward in my impulsive plan.

If anything, I’m doing my province, and all its people, a favor.

Evermere’s voice is but a distant, muffled wail of disappointment as I begin to scribble down a note to my vizier.

Dearest Reginald,

Please forgive my abrupt departure. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I trust that, in the meantime, you’ll know what to do.

You always do, and now your time to shine has arrived, my darling.

I now, under the powers vested in me as Duchess Paramount, entrust you, Reginald Morrigan, to rule indefinitely in my stead over the province of Cerulia.

Love,

Winnow Ardelean

P.S. Please don’t hate me.