Page 98 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

“I do have a choice.” She brought her face inches from his, stroking his cheek with her bleeding hand and leaving a small smear of herself on him.

Lilac dragged her thumb over his pursed lips, just as Kestrel once had.

“And that choice is Maximilian. He will be my husband. From now on, you will not take of me what I willingly give to him.”

Garin’s jaw tensed, eyes filled with disdain. He remained still as Lilac brushed her mouth against his—slid her tongue along his bottom lip, tasting her own blood. She trailed her free hand up his bloodstained thigh, reveling in how tight the front of his trousers had grown.

He only spoke when her fingertips graced the outline of his erection, irritation and threatening desire sweeping his expression.

“You wouldn’t want the emperor knowing you’ve come all over my cock, that I’ve had my hands tangled in your mouth and hair.

Especially while you’ve been bleeding.” He shook his head, his face brightening a bit.

“The thought might drive him to madness. To throw himself onto a blade, or off a cliff.”

“Oh?” Lilac straightened, her lower back spasming. “Is that what craving me makes you want to do?”

His glare up at her was a command in itself. His irresistible cologne filled the room, beckoning her. Lilac gasped when her muscles tugged her back toward him; there was no fighting it.

She braced her hands on his shoulders, but before she could climb into his lap, Garin’s head snapped to the door—and his grip on her will vanished.

Hastily, Lilac pushed off of him and lunged for another cloth, mopped the mess she’d made on his face, then wrapped it twice around the crook of Garin’s elbow, tying it into a tight knot.

The milk in the mug had turned an alarming shade of pink; she picked it up and shoved it at Garin, then pressed a piece of bread into his palm.

Lilac held her bleeding hand against the fabric of her dress and yanked the curtains open just as the mechanical sound of the door unlocking came.

Madame Kemble appeared in the doorway. Her scrutinous gaze fell upon Lilac sitting on the chair—and Garin sipping his milk and munching on a piece of bread.

“Did you bloodlet him for me, Your Majesty?” Kemble said, sounding startled.

“I instructed her,” Garin replied through a mouthful.

Lilac expected him to further his lie, to mention that his parents were herbalists and medics. But he continued chewing, saying nothing more.

Her gaze flitted between the both of them, landing last on Lilac. “I wanted to come by to check on you. Make sure you were still breathing.”

“She at least hasn’t poisoned me further.” Garin offered a feeble smile. “I’m in good hands.”

Kemble squinted. Lilac wondered if the nurse also sensed what she could, if she could smell the heady mixture of smoke and wood hyacinths hanging thickly in the air.

Whatever Kemble sensed, she decided against mentioning. “I’ll be back,” she muttered, face bright pink.

She closed and locked the door.

Breathing hard, they sat in silence. Lilac kept the pressure on her hand until the bleeding stopped. Smothering her desire proved more difficult now that they weren’t egging each other on. She leaned back into her chair, willing the aching tenderness in her abdomen to subside.

Garin took his time with the rest of his meal, eating with his eyes softly shut, moving on to the biscuits when he finished his bread.

Lilac picked at her nails, watching the way he savored each bite—his tongue sweeping his lips, the bob of his throat.

The inhuman swiftness of his large hands that emerged whenever he wasn’t masking his true nature.

Garin swallowed the last of it, swigging the rest of his blood-infused milk and finally glancing up at her appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It was oddly comforting to watch him eat. “I thought my blood might make it easier for you to stomach. ”

“I never thought of it. We’ll see in a few hours, but I already feel better.

” He bit his lip. “I suspect crafting such a concoction would be even too nauseating a task for Lorietta. If I asked, Meriam might finally ask me to leave.” He placed the mug upon the sauce, the hunger in his eyes replaced with a wanton curiosity. “You handled it well.”

“The blood?” She shrugged. “I spent the other night covered in it. Drinking it, fucking you while covered in it. By this point, I think I’m immune.”

Garin laughed—threw his head back and chuckled, his fangs exceptionally shiny in the dim light. He then sighed and looked down at her hands, where her nails dug into her palms.

“You’re in pain,” he observed.

“If you can call it that.” It was monthly, some days worse than others.

Tonight she could barely stand the sensation of the fabric rubbing against her nipples.

She could feel every strand of hair grazing her face, the heat from the hearth intensifying everything and making her restless. “And you’re still hungry.”

“I appreciate you noticing. It is of my own volition, I assure you.”

She stood from her seat. “For me.”

“For you. Always for you.”

Without hesitation, Lilac seated herself on his right thigh.

He stiffened, his hands fisting into the blankets.

Noticing his reaction—well aware she was being unreasonable considering the boundary she’d just set—Lilac reddened and made to stand. But Garin’s arms shot out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her leg over his side until she was straddling him.

“At The Fool's Folly, in that room, my instincts to protect you were infiltrated by a yearning and confusion I’d never felt before. It was a hunger that did not wish to end, nor destroy. It wanted to own. Devour. I’d never been more afraid. It nearly overpowered me.”

Feeling his length rock-hard against her inner thigh stole her breath. “Nearly?”

He chose to ignore this. “From the moment you sought refuge at the tavern, you have consumed my every waking thought. Whether in disdain, anger, admiration—or something else entirely. It didn’t take you enthralling yourself to me to do that.

” His gaze dropped to the blood pooling at her cheeks.

“It’s as if I’d never known desire before I met you, but I am glad for it.

You rouse a fire in me I thought I’d lost long, long ago.

So, regardless of our time together, the chaos that follows, or whose kingdom you belong to, I can only hope you feel the same.

That you find a lifelong, steadfast ally and—” The muscle under his eye twitched. “And friend , in me.”

Lilac regarded him in pity, suppressing a cruel laugh.

She rocked forward, savoring the stifled groan that escaped his lips when she rolled her body against him.

He shuddered beneath her when she lightly raked her nails along the back of his neck.

He was a vampire, barkeep, knight—but still very much a man.

His head began to fall back in ecstasy, and she wanted nothing more than to run her tongue along the divots in his collarbone, up the delicious side of this throat.

She pointedly glanced down at his flexed arms on either side of her. “Is this what friends do, Garin?”

“ Modron help me. ” Growling, he shifted his hands—which had been gripping the meat of her ass—back onto her waist, lessening the pressure of his touch. “I don’t want to undo what little trust you must have left in me.”

Lilac felt her fury slipping from her fingers. She couldn’t forget Garin’s scathing demands at the inn, or his anger at realizing their thrall bond. She couldn’t forget his preemptive betrayal. His cunning and lies. “I think you’re wrong. I think you care very little for the trust I have in you.”

“Then why are you in my lap? What is it you want—and will you please stop riding me over my trousers before answering?”

“For you to help me,” she blurted, as if he’d pulled the truth from her. She was almost ashamed. His touch, his tone, his breath on her throat turned her irritation too easily into impulse. “We can help each other.”

Understanding slowly crossed his face. Then, warning. “You said you belonged to the emperor. Rightfully so.”

“I said, you will not take of me that which I give to him. My body and heart will be his upon our vows,” she said, repulsed by her own trembling words. “But as your thrall, my blood remains yours to take. However you wish.”

Disbelief marred his careful expression. “You’ve thought on it? You’ve changed your mind this quickly?”

“There’s little to think about. ”

Whatever he was thinking, Garin held his tongue—with great effort, it seemed, by the way his jaw remained flexed.

It was clear he wouldn’t move. Or at least make the first one.

Lilac took his face in her hands, stroking his cheek reassuringly as she bent to him.

Their mouths met, softly at first. Then, she engulfed him.

Her hands went into his hair, her tongue tracing his bottom lip before pushing past it, scraping one of his fangs.

She smirked into the pain as their mouths filled with warmth and the taste of iron.

“Your blood comes secondary to you,” he groaned into her mouth. “I want all of you.”

The weight of his words was nearly enough to make her take her slip her dress off right then and there.

Her insides felt like they were on fire, her thighs spasming, the pain melting into mounting pleasure, desperate for release.

But she held firm, even as his tongue explored her—even as his lips moved to her jawline.

Garin’s breathing grew heavy as he found her throat, his fingers raking her dress up the sides of her thighs.

“My blood is yours. Nothing more,” Lilac panted. “We all want things we cannot have, remember?”

He released a soft laugh against her skin at the memory of his taunting at The Jaunty Hog, and kissed his way to the hollow of her collarbone. Garin sucked her flesh into his mouth. She gasped, holding him tighter to her—but Garin broke off.