Page 97 of Paramour of Sin

It seemed the two of them had been indulging in appetizers while they waited, and I started to wonder what my life would be like with them permanently by my side.

Work all day.

Play all night.

Calm conversation. Sexual undertones. Family meals.

Zane liked taking care of me. It just came naturally to him. And I rather enjoyed watching him care for Guinevere, too. She might not realize how many ways he’d ensured her safety and comfort over the years, always trying to pick the right conquest in an effort to guide Guinevere and teach her how to feed. He supervised many of her sessions, several without her knowledge, just in an attempt to help.

They’d killed him.

Because he’d wanted to join and couldn’t.

He’d return to me angry each time. And each time, I let him take his frustration out on me. Because it was my fault he couldn’t touch her, even though we both knew it’d been for the best.

She’d needed an opportunity to grow.

And had we claimed her in the beginning, she would have submitted because we told her to, not because she wanted to.

Especially to me.

Oh, she’d always wanted to experience what I had to give her, but there was a difference between craving a taste to satisfy her errant hunger and craving a taste to satisfy her yearning forme,the man, not her lord.

She could hate me for making the decision for her. I’d allow her. And I’d coax her into forgiving me over time.

I stood by my edict.

Just as I accepted her frustration at me for it.

I reached forward to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then took the seat beside her. “Thank you for the feast, Zane,” I murmured, aware he made every dish by hand. “And thank you for hosting,” I added to Guinevere, leaning forward to kiss her temple. “I’d apologize for taking over your territory, little one, but I wouldn’t mean it. I rather like being here with you.” I lifted my eyes to Zane. “Both of you.”

His lips twitched, understanding highlighting his blue eyes. “Bon appétit,” he murmured.

I winked at him, all too aware of the promise in those words.

We’d enjoy dinner—which I supposed was more like breakfast and lunch to them—and then Zane and I would have Guinevere for dessert.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Gwen

My body hummed with satisfaction, my soul well-satiated after a late night of playing with Zane and Lord Zebulon.

We’d spent most of dinner discussing his meetings with Ragus, Lord Valentino, and Prince Ashmedai—a discussion that had floored me because Lord Zebulon had been so open with every detail, talking to us like we were his equals—and then we’d retired to my room fordessert.

Dessert involved me at the center of their mouths and touch, and I’d exploded more times than I could count.

And this wasafterLord Zebulon informed me that I was officially exonerated in Prince Ashmedai’s eyes.

It was, quite literally, the best night of my life.

I yawned and stretched, reveling in the heat pouring off Zane and Lord Zebulon. They were both still asleep, their heads on opposite pillows as they held me between them.

It was perfect.

A dream.

And yet, something had disturbed me from my blissful sleep.