Page 53 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter fifty

Aethan

She’s magnificent. A vision in light blue glitter, Nahla resembles an ice goddess. Like she was made to be here, in the throne room of the Frost Kingdom. She enters with a bold glare, gaze darting about as if looking for a fight.

She won’t find one here. I know I fucked up, and I’m at her mercy. Mission grovel is a go.

Nahla has never struck me as a fan of royal antics. So it’s just me tonight, and judging by her earlier mood, this could either be fantastic or miserable for me.

Goddess, I hope I got this right.

I clear my throat, overcome with the urge to pull at my collar. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

She looks right at me, and all the air whooshes out of my lungs. Her glare softens to surprise. A smile spreads over her face.

“Hi,” she breathes.

My heart swells, pushing into my throat with an insatiable ache. “Sunfish.”

I offer her my hand. She blushes and places hers in mine, her fingers soft and smooth. Gently, I guide them to my mouth and kiss them, lingering for a moment.

“What are you up to?”

I watch her over the rim of her knuckles and raise my eyebrow. “Groveling,” I say. “Like a good boy.”

Her jaw drops.

Tugging on her fingers, I pull her close, slide my hand around her waist, and lift her hand into position. Her warm scent floods my senses as her hair brushes the underside of my chin.

“Dance with me,” I whisper into her curls.

The violinist strikes a sweet melody. Nahla gasps as I whisk her into a waltz, spinning us across the open floor.

Her dress hisses over the wooden planks and leaves a trail of glitter in her wake.

She clings to me, her short legs working quickly to keep up.

But she knows the steps. When I send her twirling into a pirouette beneath my lifted hand, she smiles radiantly, keeping her gaze glued on my face.

My heart squeezes tighter still, and I wonder if tonight will be the night it finally explodes. How ironic, that the female I’ve kept prisoner would be the one to captivate me so entirely.

As I watch her turn, I play out the future in my mind, where she and I spend many eventides on this dance floor, in this room.

Nahla, seated next to me in a matching fur-lined throne.

Nahla, answering the requests of my people with exceptional grace and kindness.

The leader they’ve been craving for years.

The leader I’ll never be able to give them. Except if…

Queen Nahlani of Frost. A chill runs the length of my spine. Yes. That’s what I want. Behind her, my throne hides in shadow, and I’m inclined to pick her up right now and see how good she looks on it.

Nahla twirls into my embrace, and we resume the beat effortlessly. “You’re good at this,” she says, dipping her head as her cheeks turn pink.

I shrug, even as my stomach roils with nerves. “Were you expecting me not to be?”

“What a cocky thing to say.” Her lips curl in a coy smile.

“But you like me this way,” I counter. My hand splays across her back, pulling her closer still. Her breasts touch my chest, skin warm with a fresh blush.

She peers at me. “Yes,” she whispers. Her hand slides up my arm to rest on my neck, warm fingertips pressing lightly into my dormant gills. “Yes, I do.”

I swallow against the pressure of her touch. “That’s good news. I wasn’t sure for a moment.”

“Aethan,” she says, and her gaze softens. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. Not like that.”

The Beast’s memory floats in, uninvited, and I’m forced to watch the replay of my abuse. The tearing of her soft skin between my claws.

I slow us to a sway, and the violinist transitions into a somber ballad. New music swells around us, matching the melancholy in my heart. Fuck, I’ll never be worthy of her. Never.

“Nahla.” As I cup her face in my hand, my thumb brushes the crest of her cheek. “Nahla, I’m—”

She leans into my touch. “I understand why you did it, but please, next time don’t shut me out, okay? Let me help you.”

But she can’t understand, not until she knows the full truth. I search her eyes, checking for a hint of terror and finding none—she doesn’t know I’m a murderer. And she never will.

Relief lifts my stomach for a moment. I still have time to fix everything.

Tonight is for her—we’ll dance and kiss and fuck, and I’ll grovel at her feet until she sickens of me—and then tomorrow I’ll go to Lucas.

I’ll endure the pain, and I’ll get the fucking job done, for Nahla.

For my kingdom. It’s the only way I can ensure their future is safe.

“There won’t be a next time, Nahla.” My jaw flexes. “I’m going to fix it. I promise I’ll try to deserve you.”

“You won’t have to try too hard.” She gazes at me with warm, trusting eyes. Her kissable lips part to reveal the soft glint of her teeth.

Dipping my head, I capture her mouth. The room fades away as I lose myself in her taste, her touch, and her tongue. Her fingers slide up my face, clasping around my neck and deepening the kiss with a desperate whimper.

Our tongues clash together. Every gasp, every shiver—I claim them all. Fuck, she’s perfect. I clutch her to my chest as my hands explore her waist, her hips, that ass . We mold together, two pieces of a whole.

Her dress is fantastically tight tonight, a delicious slit running the length of her thigh. Tempting me. I hook my hand beneath her knee. She gasps, breaking our kiss.

I waste no time. With a firm grip, I sling her over my shoulder and saunter into the shadows.

“Leave us,” I growl from the side of my mouth. The music stops, and the violinist ducks his head and hurries for the exit. Not that I’d mind an audience, but Nahla would, and I am nothing if not bound to please her.

She drops into my throne with a squeal and looks at me with wide, excited eyes. Fucking adorable. My cock hardens, pressing uncomfortably against my pants, but it’ll have to wait.

I have a higher purpose in mind.

“Spread your legs, Sunfish.”

She obeys wordlessly. Her gaze locks on mine as she pulls the dress higher, tortuously slow, and the slit in the fabric parts over her thighs.

My pulse thunders in anticipation. I buckle before her and drop into a kneel.

She deserves all the worship I can give her—Nahlani, the queen of my fucking heart.

I trail my nose along her thigh, inhaling the scent of her arousal as I nuzzle closer to her center.

“Oh gods,” she whispers. Her fingers twine into my hair. “Aethan.”

A flash of foreign emotion brushes my mind: desperate, aching lust.

She’s ready for me. With a grin, I shove her knees wider, revealing her sex.

Fuck.

Her bare folds bloom before me, pink and glistening with need.

No panties in sight.

“Someone’s naughty,” I rumble. Tenderly, I press a line of kisses along her inner thigh as she trembles.

“This dress,” she gasps. “It’s too tight for panties.” Her nails scratch the wood as she digs them into the armrests. “I didn’t think you’d see. Not like this.”

I hover at the apex of her thigh, a scale’s breadth away from where she needs me. “Should I stop, then? If you don’t want me to see?”

Her pussy is the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen. A banquet spread before me, beckoning with the promise of a feast. It’d be a shame not to get to taste her.

She squirms, fingernails scraping through my scalp, tugging on my hair. “No,” she squeals. “Gods, no. Please, Aethan. Please!”

“No?” I blow air across her folds, and she arches forward, pressing herself to my waiting mouth with a moan.

I reward her religiously, slipping my tongue across her molten core. I taste each delicate seam of her. Her clit emerges for me, swollen and ready, and I suck it tenderly. Again and again, I kiss her until she’s melting into me and writhing against my mouth. Gasping sweet nothings.

“Yes, Sunfish,” I croon. “That’s my girl. Come for me.”

With a flicker of my tongue, I worship her sensitive nub, working her hard. Her thighs clench around me. She bucks and rides my mouth, moving me right where she needs me. Desperate.

“Come,” I command. My voice rumbles against her heat, and she cries out.

“Aethan!”

Fuck. She’s so perfect. I’ll never tire of her lips screaming my name.

“Aethan, I’m going to—”

I feel her tension building, blooming beneath my touch. With a hum of magic, I send a burst of cold to the tip of my tongue and plunge it into her heat.

“Ah!” she cries out as her body spasms.

The taste of her pleasure floods my mouth, and I lap it up, dragging my tongue to catch every drop. Her orgasm works through her until she melts against me, soft and satisfied. I press a kiss to her swollen cunt and slip out of her skirts.

Nahla spreads in my fur-lined seat, eyes glazed, face flushed, and hair mussed. Her dress is askew. The picture of a queen. I grin.

“You look so good on my throne, Nahla.”

She smiles sheepishly. “You think so?”

“So fucking good.” I lean forward, kissing the soft globe of her cheek.

“Mmm.” She smooths her hands over the armrests and surveys the empty room. “There’s only one problem,” she says.

I knit my eyebrows, disliking the sound of that. If there’s a problem, I will fix it for her. Immediately. “How so?”

Nahla reaches for me, pulling both of my hands into her lap. Her smile slowly fades. Oh goddess. This can’t be good. Panic rises through my body, lifting every scale. Something is wrong.

Why did she let me fuck her, if something is wrong?

She squeezes my fingers, takes a deep breath, and says, “A prisoner can only play queen. And unless you rescind your rules—all of them—I’m afraid that’s all I can be.”

I force my eyes shut and inhale, drawing oxygen through to my toes. My stomach twists, that familiar knot of anger threatening to form. I could so easily explode. And two moon-cycles ago, I would have. Her fingers brush my thumb, the only thing rooting me in place.

I search for the anger, waiting for it to hit. Waiting for the magic to burst forth and kill her. She’s too close. I’ve put her in danger, letting her get this close to me.

But the rage doesn’t come. I sit before her, an emptied shell of myself. Heat to quench the anger, bran to stave the hunger, darkness to calm the fight—I need none of it as long as she’s here. Nahla, my personal antidote.

She’s right.

When I open my eyes, she’s studying my face. Hopeful.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” She grips my hands, grinning recklessly. Her emotions explode through our thin mental connection, fireworks of joy. “Really? You mean it?”

A fissure forms in my chest, cleaving my soul in two—one part, knowing this means she could leave me; the other, wishing for her sake she’ll take that chance.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I do.”