Page 40 of Fall of Ruin and Wrath

“Lis?” Naomi whispered, her lips at the curve of my cheek.

I fixed my stare to the stone floor in front of the couch. A flutter started in my chest, joining the one much, much lower as her touch elicited a fine, tight shiver. “Yes?”

“I asked if you wanted me to get you something to drink.” Her fingers danced over my lower stomach, inching their way below my navel.

“I’m— ” My words ended in a gasp. My gaze flew to Naomi’s and narrowed.

“What?” she said innocently. “Did my fingers grow too close to a very sensitive part of you?”

“Possibly.”

Her grin was pure devilish wickedness. “I do hope you partake in the Feasts this year.”

I raised a brow. “I think the only reason you’re looking forward to the Feasts is so you can wrap a Hyhborn around your finger.”

“What else would look better around my finger?” The tips of her fingers made their way down my lower stomach once more, stopping a mere inch, if that, above the junction of my thighs. “Besides you?”

I laughed.

Her eyes glittered. “Did I tell you that Hyhborn are . . .magnificentlyendowed?”

She was speaking only the truth. “Can we stop saying ‘magnificent’?”

“Never.” Her lips curved in a faint smile as her fingers swept back and forth, almost—almostbrushing against the too-sensitive bud of flesh. “We’re being watched, by the way.”

“There’s not a single part of me surprised to hear that,” I muttered, but I looked to see the man who’d been with the Isbills watching, as was a woman across the way. They weren’t the only ones eyeing us. Luckily Grady wasn’t. Especially since Naomi’s hand was on the prowl again. “And you still have a very strange understanding of behaving yourself,” I said.

Naomi ignored that. “It’s hard when I know there’s an audience. I’ve always found it a little unnerving.” Her fingers began to move again in slow, teasing circles. “And a little arousing.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” I stated.

“Please, as if I don’t know that you too like to be watched.”

My hips shifted restlessly. “That’s beside the point.”

“Tell me something.” Naomi’s lips curled against my cheek. “Exactly how wet are you right now?”

My face heating, my eyes narrowed on her.

“If I wasn’t behaving myself out of respect for our poor Grady’s emotional and mental well-being, I bet I’d discover that you are.” Her nose touched mine as she whispered, “Don’t even try to lie, because the way your hips keep squirming will tell a very different story.”

“It’s telling the story your fingers are writing.”

She made a throaty sound in the space between my lips. “Oh, I bet my teasing got you nice and warm,” she said. Her gaze turned shrewd. “But I’m also willing to bet the fact that your thinking of magnificently endowed Hyhborn has got yousoaked.”

Muscles tightened as my toes curled, but she was wrong. And she was right. While Naomi was technically behaving herself, I did . . . I didache,but it wasn’t just me. I could feel the quickening in her breath. I felt her restless movements against my thigh. It was partly her touch, and she was also right. I was thinking of magnificently endowed Hyhborn, except I was thinking of him.

My Hyhborn lord.

CHAPTER 9

Knowing that Naomi wouldn’t enjoy her evening when she felt she had to run interference, I told her I was going to call it a night. In all honesty, I should be tired, considering what little sleep I’d gotten the night before, but a nervous sort of energy coursed through me even after I changed into a slippery soft nightgown, leaving me restless and amped-up.

I was going to blame Naomi and her idea of behaving herself for that.

As I lay down on the bed, my mind was absolutely no help, deciding to alternate between the memory of the soft, teasing touches of Naomi’s and the . . . the feel of my lord’s hard, slick skin.

Skin flushed, I rolled onto my side, pressing my thighs together. A sharp pulse echoed throughout me. I bit down on my lip as I trailed my hand over my chest. The breath I took was shaky. His voice was so clear to me, as if he were beside me, whispering in my ear. My fingers spread, grazing a hardened nipple through the cotton nightgown. Except they weren’t my fingers. They were Naomi’s. They werehis.