38
Malik and Valine returned to the chaise lounge they’d vacated to dance, plucking up two flutes of champagne, each drinking deeply. The bubbles tickled Valine’s lip as she drank and she watched the king. He too, was drinking and watching her. Music swirled behind them, a more upbeat song playing, Valine thought she recognized the tempo as something reminiscent of The Orchard, but she wasn’t certain.
Valine was leaning on the lounge chair, a bare foot in the grass, the other behind the king. Desire swirled in Malik’s eyes, the gold being taken over by the blue as he drank in the expanse of creamy skin she displayed. He licked his lips, his hand reaching out. She let him draw circles on her bare leg, his eyes never leaving her. They coasted up to her knee and she held her breath as he slipped higher and descended again. Him teasing her.
“I have a gift for you,” he whispered shyly.
Valine smiled softly. “I have a gift for you as well.”
“You do?” he asked gently.
Valine slipped a finger up a sleeve and produced an item wrapped in paper. It was the width of a finger and tied with twine. Malik unfurled the paper, and read the writing inside. She knew what it said, she’d penned it herself.
1)??????Do not work for royals.
2)??????Do not fuck those who pay you.
Malik’s gaze snapped up to hers, heat roiling in his eyes. The same heat that was coiling low in her belly, aching between her thighs.
“You’re breaking your rules,” he breathed.
“I am, and that is not your only gift.”
He glanced down at the vial that the writing hid, twisting it in the light.
“Is this—?” Malik began.
“It’s a contraceptive tonic. I wasn’t sure if you were already taking one,” Valine interrupted. “That is…if it is needed.”
There were several different contraceptive tonics, catered to each sex. One was monthly—which was very expensive—another was weekly—moderately affordable—and a third was daily—low priced and easily accessible, though with larger room for error. These were the weekly sort.
Malik grinned. “I take one regularly, but this is perhaps the best gift I’ve been given.”
“Truly?” she asked shyly, a smile blooming.
“Absolutely.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and produced a ring. Valine’s eyes flew to his face and Malik laughed ruefully. “It’s not what you think. Not quite.”
Jericho’s voice announced another performance behind them, but Valine ignored it, too enraptured with the ring Malik held out to her. Valine examined it closer and she discovered the ring was a golden serpent, meant to coil around a finger with an emerald in its mouth and blind opal eyes. The tiny fangs were wrought as claps, holding the marquis gem in its miniscule jaws. It was stunning and it was so much like Malik.
“This ring makes known you are under my protection. It makes known that an attack on you, is an attack on me. With it, you are announcing that you belong to me.”
“Malik…this is a consort ring.”
“It is,” he confirmed.
“Are…are you asking me to be your consort?”
“How you wear the ring will define to others what we are.” Malik took her left hand, taking her index finger. “With this one, you are trusted. You are known as a confidante.” He moved to her middle. “With this one, you are mine. You are known as my lover.” Then he moved to her ring finger. “And with this one, you are my equal. You will be known as my wife and queen…if that is what you want one day.”
Valine held her breath at the enormity of what Malik was offering her. He was offering her marriage if that was what she desired, but he was also offering her whatever she was comfortable taking. Valine felt emotion swell within her, her heart bursting at the seams. She looked into Malik’s gaze and beheld what poured from him. She could read this king like a book, written in a language just for her.
Thoughts of his future brides plagued her. What would they think of the king keeping her as a lover? Could she handle watching the man she loved court other women? He couldn’t be hers, not truly, could he? He was offering everything if she was willing to take it, and though her heart was, her revenge was not. He needed to marry a royal to burn Runell to the ground. After that kingdom was destroyed though, could she have him then?
“You are free to choose which finger you shall wear it on, if at all,” Malik told her, his voice bearing so much weight. The tenderness in his tone buried itself in her heart. “But I would love nothing more than for you to wear it with pride.”
She swallowed. “The middle,” she whispered.
Malik grinned and slid it onto the finger she indicated. It slipped perfectly into place, and Valine wondered if the ring itself was charmed or crafted by the saints.
“So, this is official?” she asked.
“As official as you want it.”
“I must say,” she said sultry. “I’ve never believed in waiting until marriage. Don’t you think it’s a little premature to deem us lovers before we’ve fucked?”
“We could always change that,” Malik teased. “Do you want to find somewhere private?”
“Please,” Valine responded, rising to her feet.
Suddenly, Valine heard the sounds of moaning and skin slapping. She turned to the stage in confusion, only to find her eyes greeted with the sight of a live display of coitus. A bronze skinned man was thrusting into a red-haired woman, her legs on his shoulders, her back arched, her hair cascading over the edge of the bench that was brought onto the stage.
“Oh! Oh my,” Valine gasped, rounding on the king. On her lover. “That is quite the surprise.”
Malik chuckled low in his throat, his hand finding her lower back. “You deal with blood and death all the time, but acts of sex turn you into a skittish colt?” he whispered.
“No!” she hissed. “But a little warning would have been nice.”
“Oh, there was plenty of warning. You were just too busy to notice.”
“My apologies, I was practically getting engaged. I’m sure you can see why I may have been otherwise preoccupied.”
“I consider that a lovely compliment.”
Quietly, Valine and Malik slipped away while people watched the sexual act being played out on the stage in various positions, many of the watchers copying the acts or engaging in new ones on their chaise lounges. As they departed, Valine caught sight of Pandora with her face between Jacira’s thighs.
Valine cast her gaze away when Malik took her hand, leading her past servants who delivered her knowing looks, and up a flight of stairs. On the marble floors their heels clicked and Malik guided them back to the Vesper Wing, confidently striding to their rooms and opening his door heedless of the guards still posted there. Within moments of stepping into his suite, Malik had the door locked and his hands were all over her.
With a gasp, Valine was picked up, her legs wrapping around Malik’s waist as he crushed her lips with his. The kiss was rough, his tongue slipping between her lips to meet hers. Sliding against and tasting of plums and cinnamon. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hands fisting in his hair as his hands cupped her ass, kneading her supple flesh. His teeth caught her lip, pulling lightly, and she moaned into his mouth. His lips returned to hers, kissing fiercely, passionately, his hips grinding into her with vigor that promised pleasure.
Valine pulled from Malik’s mouth, kissing up his neck, pulling his head back by his hair, and meeting his blue-gold eyes. “What have you done to me?” she whispered.
“Not nearly enough yet,” he responded, carrying her over to the bed.
Malik dropped her onto the plush mattress, her skirts a mess around her legs, and the exposure of her hipbones showed that, just like the red dress, she was not wearing any undergarments. She went up on her elbows, giving him a sultry look with dark fuck me eyes, and parted her legs, thin blackberry fabric the only thing hiding her wet core from his eyes.
“Fuck,” Malik whispered reverentially as he took her in.
“I did offer you a taste,” she told him, shaking out her long dark hair.
“I need more than that,” he growled, prowling over her.
He captured her lips once again, his hand coming up to her throat to squeeze ever so slightly. Valine moaned, and she felt Malik’s smile on her lips. “I see that’s something you like.” He kissed her jaw. “Noted.”
He began kissing further down, her collarbones being doted on as his hand sprawled over her neck. His nose skimmed down the center of her chest, following the line of her sternum before he pulled back the shimmering fabric covering her left breast. Her exposed nipple was hard and peaked, and Malik smiled before he took that little pink bud in his mouth and nipped it. She mewled in response, arching her back to allow him more access while her core throbbed in response. She was so wet, and she needed him. He pulled the fabric away from the other breast, baring this one too, and he performed the same action while rubbing the other with his thumb, his hand cupping it.
Valine couldn’t help it; her hips moved of their own volition, and her hands searched for him, finding the buttons on his black shirt and tearing them open. His chest was sculpted, his abs ridged and golden, fine black hair spotted his chest and below his navel, following a trail below the waistband of his pants. And beneath those pants, his arousal was clear, the hardening length pushing painfully against the constraints of the trousers. Valine palmed him through the material and Malik groaned, catching her nipple with his mouth again while his hand drifted lower, slipping between those wonderful slits in the skirt and finding her wet core.
“Fuck, Valine,” he moaned as his fingertips brushed the apex of her thighs, swirling against her clit. Her breaths came rough as she circled with her hips, eager to feel his fingers inside her. As if he sensed her impatience, he slipped a finger inside her, finding her dripping wet. She bucked against his hand as his thumb pressed down on her clit, circling with exquisite pressure while his finger was buried inside her. He plunged in and out of it and continued circling while she kept palming him, her other hand in his hair.
“Don’t stop, Malik,” she breathed, arching.
“I need to taste this pussy before you come again,” he growled against her breast. “But trust me, I will get you there.”
She dropped her head against the pillows in anticipation. “Okay.”
Malik kissed his way down her body, pushing aside the shimmering fabric of her dress and baring her soaking-wet sex. He kissed the inside of her thigh and then the other, his nose brushing right where she wanted it. He teased her again, kissing a third time, looking up at her. And then suddenly, his mouth was on her.
His tongue laved the very center of her, stopping at that little bundle of nerves and circling it with his tongue. Malik flicked it with the tip of his tongue before pressing his mouth wholly against her pussy, his stubble scratching her thighs as his tongue buried itself inside her. Valine moaned at the excellent technique. He returned once again to that sensitive nub and sucked it into his mouth, biting gently, and Valine swore she saw stars. Never had anyone bit her clit, but she wanted him to do it again.
“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop,” she gasped.
“As you wish,” he murmured against her.
Malik flicked and suckled at her clit, bringing her close to the edge, his mouth knowing exactly what her body wanted. Her hands were buried in his hair, her hips thrusting against him, and he had to cross an arm over her hips to pin her down. She could feel her orgasm building, and when he bit her clit again, she shattered. Valine cried out, Malik continuing his endless, perfect movements, his tongue carrying her through the waves of her climax. Valine had never felt such a powerful rush before, never had a partner continued pleasuring her through her orgasm before Malik.
Valine was languid, weak in the knees, her legs trembling as she looked down at him with lust-soaked eyes. His mouth was wet with her arousal, his lips shimmering as he licked the taste of her. He held her eyes as he kissed her inner thigh.
“You are my favorite flavor,” he told her, crawling up her, his hand coming between them and cupping her oversensitive sex. “And I plan to have it again.”
“It’s yours,” she breathed.
Just as she began reaching for Malik, a sudden banging erupted from their door, and before they could react, the door burst open, revealing four guards, Alastair and Cersei. Valine scrambled to cover herself, Malik moving protectively in front of her.
“Do you fucking mind?” he demanded, eyes shooting daggers.
Alastair’s hair was sex-tousled, but his eyes were grave. “I’m really sorry to interrupt, Mal, but there’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency dictates disturbing us when we are obviously preoccupied?”
Alastair’s next words fell like a blade.
“There have been three murders.”