Frost Bound (Entangled with Trickery #1)

Chapter Forty-Four Dahlia

It was selfish.

To kiss him. To want more. Especially with what she planned.

Dahlia pushed the thought away and threw herself into the kiss, her lips parting his own. He made a small noise in the back of his throat that sounded like want and surprise and need all in one. She gasped as his hand moved to her bottom and hauled her against him as he took possession of the kiss.

It was as if all his restraint had crumbled, leaving raw need behind.

He kissed her with fervor, pressing closer until his bare indigo chest rubbed against her shift-covered one. She held on to his hair, her tongue tangling with his. It was everything she needed and everything she shouldn’t want.

The king rolled her onto her back, kneeling between her legs. Cool air kissed her bare thighs.

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks at how exposed she was, wishing now more than ever she’d worn something underneath her shift.

She trembled as he broke the kiss, his massive blue body caging her in. He skated his warm lips down her collarbone, tugging the shift out of the way so he could lave her collarbone with that wicked black tongue. Her embarrassment fled as a powerful wave of desire crashed over her. There was no shame here. Imposter bride or not, she was still married to him.

And he wanted her.

Lia closed her eyes and sank her fingers into his blue-black hair, tilting her neck so he had better access. Slowly, she ran her shaking right hand down his chest and taut abdomen to the waistband of his trousers. She tugged on the laces and they loosened immediately, threatening to spill his sorav into her hand.

Neve lifted his head, and she opened her eyes as he stared down at her, brow furrowed.

“What?” she rasped.

He reached for her right hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm. “You’re shaking, jaivelle .”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, leaning up for another kiss. She could do this.

The king brushed his lips along hers tenderly. “You’re afraid.”

“No.” She wanted him, but she also knew what she must do.

He pulled back, really studying her. She blushed at how high her shift had ridden up, exposing all of her body save her breasts. He leaned back on his heels, and she jerked when he skimmed his warm palms down her thick thighs to her rounded lower belly, his thumbs resting dangerously close to her core. The silence stretched on as he soaked her in.

Lia’s breath fled her as he lifted her left leg and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. Tears blurred her eyes as he proceeded to pepper the patterns on her legs with kisses. Each touch felt like acceptance, as if he were healing her kiss by kiss.

She didn’t deserve it.

“Stop,” she cried softly.

“Never.” He pressed kisses to the scars on her inner thighs. His gaze lifted to hers. “I’m sorry for these.”

She shook her head, a sob lodging in her throat. “Not your fault.”

The king hunched over and kissed the swell of her lower belly, flicking out his tongue to create a pattern around her bellybutton that had her panting. Neve worked his way up, kissing each freckle and mole along the way. When he reached the edge of her shift, he carefully caught the hem and pulled it down until she was covered once again.

“You don’t want…”

Neve pulled her upright and into his lap as he leaned back onto his heels. Her legs straddled his hips. The proof of his desire pressed insistently against her, and her shocked gaze flew to his tender eyes as she blushed.

“I do, but not like this.” He pressed his forehead to her own. “You and I have only just begun to know each other. You’ve seen the worst in me, and I’ve yet to show you the best. Dark days are ahead of us, and tough decisions will need to be made by both you and I. An heir is expected.”

She glanced away, feeling sick. He’d never get an heir from her. Only betrayal.

The king crooked an indigo finger beneath her chin and directed her attention back to his face. “This is not the life you were promised by your family. I’ve known for quite some time that I would have a human bride, and it has taken me this long to soften. I don’t expect you to want me as I want you. And I don’t want you to surrender to me out of duty.”

“I’m not.”

He arched a brow. “I’ve watched you. You give of yourself to everyone around you, and take nothing for yourself. You didn’t rail against me when I told you I was the king and you’d been promised to me, nor when I embarrassed you with my council, or when I asked you to play the obedient bride for my kingdom. I can see what it has cost you. This…” He kissed each of her cheeks. “…is yours to command.”

Tears spilled from her eyes as she stared up at the monster who’d become something much more dear. She was the monster, not Neve.

You’re not worthy of him.

“No need to cry, niliave . I’m here.”

Wife . She didn’t deserve that title.

That was the problem. He was being too sweet. Why couldn’t he be completely evil? Be the cold king that came out to play from time to time? It would make her decision that much easier. She hugged him close, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He held her, running his hands through her hair and down her back in soothing strokes.

Dahlia closed her eyes and spun the ring the queen had given her. She flicked open the top, and pulled back to crush her lips to Neve’s, tears pouring down her cheeks. He responded with a full-body shudder. Lia stabbed the thin needle into the back of his neck and bit his bottom lip, hard, holding on. She needed it in for ten seconds.

The king jerked, dislodging her.

That was not ten seconds. Lia would be lucky if it was five.

He frowned and reached for the back of his neck. “ Jaivelle , what…?”

Neve swayed and then toppled backward. Lia scrambled off him and ran her hands over his face. He blinked at her, disoriented.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept, tasting salty tears. “I don’t have a choice. Lo bietelle .”

His eyes cleared for a moment and then hardened. Dahlia flinched and jerked back, staring into the dark pits that were his eyes. All traces of Neve were gone—only the Frost King remained. She’d done that.

No time for sentiment. You need to flee.

His lips moved but she heard no sound. Dahlia leaned closer as his eyes began to close, her ear near his lips.

“ Run ,” he whispered.

She scrambled off the bed and sprinted for her things. He’d only said one word, but it held a wealth of meaning.

Run, because if he survived he’d hunt her down.

Run, because he was vengeance itself.

Run, because there would be no mercy or escape.

Run, because she’d created a monster and broken his heart.

Continue the series with:

Scorched Wings