Page 57 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

T here was something wrong with them. The both of them. The Dragondew Mead had worsened the effects of their connection, whatever magic that had not waned in their time apart, partial bond or no—but Garin’s mouth against her wrist impossibly dragged her mind from those concerns. Fire faded to ice.

It was twice as intoxicating as he held her over him.

Garin took one last pull from her wrist then removed himself, quieting her frustrated snarl with a short tug of her hair, causing her to moan. “Is this what you left your safe abode for tonight, Your Majesty?”

She could hardly concentrate on an answer with the head of his cock at her entrance. Lying would only prolong his torment. “I wanted to make you regret entrancing me.”

A guttural laugh escaped his throat. “By fucking Casmir?”

“By any means necessary,” she choked out, desperate to feel him.

He chuckled again, the sound sweeping across her spine. “There are far worse things you could do to me. Consider this a lesson in revenge.”

Garin slid his hands onto her hips and slammed her down onto his cock.

Gasping, Lilac’s head fell back, feeling herself abruptly adjust to him. His next thrust was so painstakingly slow, there was no doubt in her mind he meant to punish her. His grip on her was unrelenting as he controlled every movement. She reached down and dug her nails into his wrists.

“I want to ride you.”

A wicked glimmer crossed his face. “I have given you what you want. Now, I’m going to take what I need.”

He shifted her, angling her chin up before sinking his teeth into her throat with no warning.

Lilac scraped her nails along the back of his neck, instinctively cradling him closer.

Encouraged, he bit down harder, sucking deeper, the heavy pull against her skin causing her to rock onto him.

All thought, all memory and concern melted away as she convulsed, soaking the settee beneath them.

Garin groaned, taking a shuddering inhale before lifting his fangs from her. “That’s it, now. Look at you.”

Lilac burned, hungrily raking her fingers into his shoulders. “I would hardly call this revenge.”

His lips brushed hers as he thrusted into her from beneath, wetting her mouth in her own warm blood, not quite kissing her.

“You haven’t the faintest idea the torture you unleash upon me.

” He reached up, his thumb gliding across her cheek.

“I never thought it was possible for you to look more beautiful—yet here you are, covered in the blood that I’ve drawn.

You make it increasingly difficult to do the noble thing. ”

“The noble thing,” she said, voice thick, “would be to ally yourself with me.”

“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” Garin’s eyes drifted up from her lips, excitement dancing behind them despite his sad smile. An apologetic smile. “The noble thing to do tonight would be allowing you to leave this room without my nature getting the best of me.”

Realization slowly sank in. She nodded, desperately trying to smother her alarm. She’d thought he’d begun to see reason moments ago, when he’d first drank from her thigh; she’d also fought to keep her thoughts coherent through the process of trying to convince him to leave.

She’d tried seducing him, making sure he was fed. She’d thought it was her blood he’d craved. Maybe it still was, but how much of it did he need? How much to wash the effects of the Dragondew Mead away?

How was she supposed to sober him when they were both drunk on each other ?

He bent his head, sniffing at the unscathed side of her throat, as if searching for another vein. Lilac clutched his face with both hands and firmly pushed him away before he could bite her again. Fortunately, he obliged.

“Look at me,” she said softly. His skin was hot, and her hands came away slicked in beads of sweat.

She’d come to make him pay and still intended to, but she would do so another time, when they were out of the fire. He had suffered enough for now.

It was hard to concentrate again on her plan—her plan in the making—when he was still hard against her, his erection now resting against her stomach.

She didn’t understand; if Myrddin was as powerful a warlock as they’d said he was, couldn’t he at least have given her a tonic or anything that might make this mission of hers easier?

He hadn’t had any specific advice to spare?

“Look at me,” she said, cradling his face. “Please.”

Garin craned his head back. His dark eyes, bleary in fear and hunger, were rimmed in red, like the edge of sunset without the promise of tomorrow. He kept his mouth shut around his fangs as his gaze slowly floated from the hearth, to her.

Stroking his jaw and dragging her fingers through the blood, Lilac planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, wishing it desperately to be true.

As she spoke, she swept her leg, then her arm off to the right, where he’d dropped the dagger.

The scalpel might’ve been there, too; either would do.

“We’re going to walk out of here, and Bastion and Myrddin are going to help you.

We will figure it out, whatever this is. Together.”

Her heart dropped. There was no shape of a blade, no brush of cold metal against her skin—any weapon to have on hand, just in case. Casmir’s warning and offering of the stake played in her mind as she shifted, moving her foot around to feel further.

Garin abruptly stood.

They were walking; he was carrying her away from the hearth. Away from both weapons. Securing her legs around him, Garin began to shake his head, his frown pitiful as he pressed his lips into her hair .

No . This wasn’t supposed to happen. She jolted when her back hit a wall.

“You told them where you were going, didn’t you?

” he asked, his brows knotting in desperation.

She inhaled sharply as he placed himself against her again, one arm supporting her under her thighs, his other hand against the wood beside her head as he pressed her into the closet door.

Aromas of summer night and woodsmoke invaded her senses, causing her to slip between fear and ecstasy.

She opened her mouth to answer, but the sound came out garbled as he sheathed himself into her. He thrusted hard , rattling the door frame behind her. Again. Then again. And again .

Garin bent his lips to finally kiss her, and there was nothing urgent or rushed about it. His mouth was lazy, intentional. Possessing. When his tongue swept and teased hers, Lilac came almost immediately, tasting the salt and iron that drenched him.

He broke away. “Please tell me you told them.”

“Told who what?”

“Your guard,” he panted. “Your protectors.”

Coming down from the waves of pleasure cresting over her body, she tried not to think about the increasing probability of her dying in this room at the hands of a vampire who was very clearly spiraling out of control—because why would he ask her that?

Why would she mention to anyone at home she intended to travel to The Fenfoss Inn and possibly disclose its location?

But as the beginning of a cold smile ghosted his mouth, she realized his inquiry was rhetorical. “Does anyone besides my imbecile brother and his friends, anyone who should know your whereabouts, know where their precious queen is tonight?”

“What would that matter when you were the one who sent me away?” She challenged his mocking gaze. “I could be anywhere tonight. With anyone. What would it matter if anyone knew? What would you do if there were dozens of my guards waiting outside this very brothel? That wouldn’t stop you, would it?”

His thrusting slowed. He eyed the warmth trickling down her throat, noticing the bite wounds he hadn’t healed. He moved to put his mouth on her, but she pulled back as far as she could in his arms .

“What is it you want to do?” she asked, carefully trailing her fingers across his bloodstained lips. “Take me far away from here?”

Garin’s forehead creased, his throat bobbing. Gently, he unsheathed himself from her, continuing to cradle her.

Lilac only continued. “Hide me in your Mine? Would you fuck me in that cage of yours?” Her body began pulsing again at the teasing of her own words, hoping to keep him agreeable. “Protect me? Would you make me yours there?”

“ Stop. ” He grimaced. “You’re right. What would your family and their guard know of protection when their leader is in my arms, instead of where she belongs—safe at her castle? Even more reason for you to marry a more powerful king.”

His last comment was the end of that. Lilac pushed off the closet door, righting herself against him. She accidentally must’ve opened the other side, as something—clothes, or perhaps bags of rye or cotton, based on the muffled thumps upon the floor—tumbled out. She didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Sensing her discomfort and instant change in mood, Garin stepped away from the wall. He didn’t stop her as she untangled herself from him and snaked her legs out from his grasp.

“Lilac.” His voice was tight.

“ No ,” she said, her irritation growing as his words registered. She set herself on the floor. “Do you believe a ring on my finger, hundreds if not thousands of soldiers at my gate, would stop you from finding me?”

“I would not need to if it was I who wants you to marry.”

“Yet you seem to think those defenses are enough to deter an entire kingdom.”

Garin only laughed. “There is no comparison between Francois and myself. A king who wants your kingdom will spare his own men and resources to have it. It is only me, and I only want you.” He dipped his head to her.

“And I am no gracious king or benevolent emperor, Lilac. There is no limit to what I would sacrifice.”