Chapter 11 #2
I pivoted, ready to flee into the shadows, but Jasila stepped directly in front of me, blocking my path.
“We must greet the king,” she said. “Bow, then you may leave to enjoy the night.”
She might as well have slapped me across the face.
We approached him slowly, each step heavier than the last. He hadn’t noticed us, too consumed by the worship at his feet—by the woman whose fingers now crept along his inner thigh.
Asshole.
Jasila cleared her throat. “My king.”
Dalkhan’s head snapped up, the muscles in his neck flexing taut.
His smirk vanished for the briefest, most satisfying moment before he regained control.
He sucked in a long breath, as if drawing my scent from the space between us.
His eyes travelled from my face downward, lingering at my throat where the golden chains nestled against my skin, dipping lower to where the silk barely contained my breasts, tracing the curve of my waist before dragging back up to my face with excruciating slowness.
My body answered his command whether I wanted it to or not.
We bowed our heads as one.
A rough sound escaped him—not quite a growl, but deeper. From beneath my lowered lashes, I watched Jasila straighten and mirrored her movement, raising my head.
His gaze narrowed as it flicked to Theo and Tavrik standing by my sides. A dark shadow of irritation crossed his features before he dismissed us with a wave.
Still, his attention remained fixed on me with an intensity that threatened to burn through flesh and bone.
Not even as the women resumed their worship, hands and mouths marking paths across his skin with desperate need. Not even as Iznia dragged her tongue up the line of his throat.
A slow, cruel smile curved his lips. His massive hand shot out to grasp the pale-haired woman’s chin, fingers digging into flesh as he arched her head back further—and still, still he stared at me, his thumb brushing her bottom lip in a caress meant for my eyes alone.
Pressing into the soft flesh until it yielded.
Her whimper echoed in the charged space between us, but it might as well have been torn from my own throat.
I spun away, the silk swirling around my legs as I stalked toward a table near the roaring fire pits. My heart hammered violently in my throat—between my legs, at the base of my spine—everywhere except where it belonged.
We dropped onto the benches, reaching for food with eager hands. I tore into seared meat, the juices running down my chin as I chewed, desperate to fill my mouth with something—anything—that might distract me from what had passed between us.
Mira slid onto the bench beside Theo, curving to him as if pulled by some invisible force.
Theo’s face split into a grin as he bent towards her, whispering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.
Even Tavrik had loosened up, his shoulders no longer rigid as he tracked a woman moving past our table.
Her hips swayed, fingers gliding across his back as she murmured appreciation for his features loud enough for us all to hear.
I allowed myself to sink into the moment, but every few minutes, awareness prickled across my skin.
Dalkhan’s gaze burned into me from across the space.
I refused to turn—refused to acknowledge him. I focused on the drums that pounded with increasing urgency, the rhythm rising in the air.
The music had shifted, transformed into something wild and untamed. Drummer’s hands blurred as they struck taut skins. String instruments wailed, the notes hooking beneath my ribs and tugging, an invitation to dance.
The beat travelled up my calves, winding around my thighs and pooling low in my belly. I threw my head back, eyes fluttering closed as the melody whispered dark promises, daring me to surrender.
I shot to my feet in one fluid motion and stepped into the sea of writhing bodies.
My body moved of its own accord, hips rolling in circles that grew wider, more provocative with each beat.
My arms rose above my head, fingers tangling in my own hair and lifting the heavy mass from my sweat-dampened neck.
I arched my spine backward, exposing my throat and the hollows of my collarbones to the night air.
The tension that had been building inside me found release in the movement—in the surrender to something older than thought.
Bodies pressed together all around me, slick skin sliding against skin. Hands roamed freely without restraint or shame—palming breasts, gripping hips, digging into flesh hard enough to leave marks. Mouths sought and found each other in hungry collisions, teeth clashing and tongues dancing.
Lost in the pulsing rhythm, I didn’t register the presence behind me until solid heat pressed against my back, strong hands encircling my waist.
My muscles locked for a suspended heartbeat before recognition dawned on me. Theo. He was as consumed as I was, lost in the spell woven by the music.
He moved against me, our bodies finding the perfect rhythm together. His grip tightened, fingers pressing deeper into my waist, pulling me closer against every hard inch of him. His thighs bracketed mine, guiding my movements as we rocked together.
Any other time, I would’ve broken his fingers.
But I didn’t.
I leaned back into his chest, head falling against his shoulder. Heat surged beneath my skin as his palm slid up my stomach in an agonisingly slow glide, fingers brushing the underside of my breast before coming to rest at the base of my throat.
His breath was hot against my neck—his lips just a whisper away.
Boom!
A sound like thunder cracked the night.
We froze mid-movement, the spell shattered. I tore away from Theo’s grasp, spinning to find the source, though I already knew what—who—I would find.
No longer lounging, no longer surrounded by women.
Dalkhan stood seething.
His eyes burned with fury as he took a powerful step forward. The flames in the fire pits nearly doubled in height, throwing monstrous shadows across his face. Another step, and the ground heaved beneath our feet.
Everyone around us dropped their heads into a bow, shoulders hunched to make themselves smaller. Less noticeable. No one dared to move. No one spoke—many seemed afraid to even draw breath.
I lowered my head, unable to meet the inferno of his gaze. My hands trembled violently at my sides, not from fear—though any sane person would be terrified—but from something darker. Something that pulsed in time with the throb between my thighs.
Theo stood rigid beside me, his chest rapidly rising and falling.
Dalkhan’s gaze locked onto him with lethal focus, his nostrils flaring. Jaw working as if he were physically preventing himself from tearing out Theo’s throat with his teeth.
Theo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but he held his ground.
Dalkhan’s attention snapped back to me. He brushed fingers along my jaw in a lingering caress. The heat of his touch burned.
I opened my mouth, but my throat closed around whatever words might have formed. The tension was suffocating, stretched so tight between us that it might snap. The reckless, foolish part of me wanted him to close the distance. To crash into me.
But I knew better. Before I could surrender to the dangerous impulse, I wrenched away from him and fled, pushing past bodies that scrambled to clear a path.
I didn’t look back, but his fury—his possessiveness, pulsed in the air.
And Heavens help me, I didn’t fucking care.
I barely had time to catch my breath before slamming the door shut behind me. The thunderous pulse of music still echoed in my ears, my skin still humming from the vibrations. As I turned, reality crashed into me with devastating strength.
A force like fire itself seized me, throwing me against the wall. The stone scraped mercilessly against my shoulder blades, the impact forcing air from my lungs in a violent rush. Every muscle tensing in preparation for fight or flight.
Dalkhan’s hand closed around my neck, just shy of cutting off my air. I felt each individual finger as they spanned the column of my throat, a collar of flesh and bone that could either snap me or save me.
His dark eyes burned with something molten, something violent.
“You run from me,” he growled, his fingers flexing. He tilted my head back, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. “And you let him touch you.”
The last words emerged as a savage snarl, rumbling through his chest and into mine. I gripped his wrist with both hands, digging nails into his skin. I tried desperately to pry it off, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
I should’ve been terrified to my core. But I wasn’t. I liked it.
Fuck, I loved it.
The raw possessiveness sent liquid heat between my thighs. An inferno raged in his eyes, and the slight, cruel lift to the corner of his mouth wasn’t a smile but pure, distilled anger etched into the sharp lines of his face.
Sweat beaded at my temple, sliding down excruciatingly slow, leaving a cool trail against my flushed skin. I shifted, pressing my thighs together with embarrassing desperation to ease the throbbing ache.
I wanted those full lips on me—claiming every inch of me. I licked my own at the thought—at the searing memory of how they’d felt against mine.
His eyes snapped down, catching the small, treacherous movement of my tongue. A feral growl rumbled deep in his chest, and then his mouth crashed onto mine.
His tongue dragged over my bottom lip before he fully claimed my mouth.
His thumb pressed against my pulse point—against the rapid, frantic beat of my heart—while his other hand wrapped around my waist, yanking me against the solid wall of his body.
Our hips collided, the thick, rigid length of his cock pressing against my lower belly, so hard it must’ve been painful for him.
The heat of it branded me even through the layers that separated us.