Chapter Thirty
I would have happily walked from the throne room to somewhere more private, but Wilde was too impatient.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled us backwards.
As he did, the shape of the room warped, first expanding, then shrinking into itself.
The stark black melted around us, revealing hints of blues and reds that swirled together like water down a drain.
Pressure encased me like I was submerged in the deepest waters.
Breath escaped my lungs in a stolen gasp.
A rushing sound filled my ears, deafening me to everything else.
My knees buckled and the only thing holding me up was Wilde’s arm around my waist.
“Easy,” he murmured. “It’ll pass soon.”
“How do you do that all the time?” I panted.
He snorted. “It’s easier with practice.”
“You must have gotten a lot of practice recently, popping in and out to pester me all those times.”
A faint smile touched his lips as he admitted, “I didn’t teleport within the Desolated Lands. I worried the Kingdom Defense Spell could kick me out while I was between destinations.”
No wonder he’d tripped over himself so often when we’d first met—he wasn’t used to walking everywhere.
Once the dizziness and pressure on my skin faded, I looked around the room to see where he’d brought me.
Someone had converted a few of the old offices into one huge bedroom suite.
Three separate windows lined the wall, all covered with black-out curtains to keep the forest out.
The bed was probably the one I’d seen during our mirror conversations, with dark silk sheets and a wrought iron headboard.
On the other side of the room was a sitting area and a small kitchenette, and beyond that a door leading to a bathroom.
It’d be easy to live here and forget it was part of an evil lair.
“So, is this your apartment or mine?” I asked as I plopped down on the couch.
Wilde watched me for a moment, eyelashes lowered. “We’ll share it for now.”
I glanced at the bed, thinking of the nights we could spend challenging and teasing each other.
Softer moments after, where we could simply bask in each other’s warmth and drift to sleep together.
A future I could have if this was where the story ended.
If I stayed with Wilde. But to do that, I’d have to fully embrace being the Lord of Grimnight’s son and let go of Treasure Banes.
Wilde sensed the shift in mood. “Do you regret revealing the truth to them?”
I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the couch back.
“They had to find out eventually.” Whether he knew it or not, he’d helped me out.
Even this close to the end, the old man’s geas would have had me spilling my own secrets rather than his.
This was the only way for them to learn who I really was.
“At least I’m not stuck in the dungeons.
Now that this whole stupid mission is over, I’ll … ”
Soft footsteps approached. A hand grabbed the couch’s arm, fingers barely brushing me. The center of the cushion dipped as Wilde pressed his knee between my legs. “You’ll what?” he whispered as he loomed over me.
Although I was sitting down, I felt suddenly adrift. I grabbed his waist with both hands to steady myself and stared into his dark eyes. How would he react once he knew my intentions? Would he stop me? Or let me go? “I’ll leave.”
I refused to stay here, with the Lord of Grimnight and his evil plans, but I didn’t know where else to go.
My heart ached to return to Bane, the only place that felt like home.
But it wouldn’t be the same once the defense spell fell and an evil mage invaded.
Even if I wanted to help the Desolated Lands fight the Lord of Grimnight, no one would trust me.
Once my fathers found out I wasn’t even their son …
I wouldn’t be a prince; I would only be a traitor.
Wilde lowered his head, inching closer. “What if I order you to stay?” he whispered, breath hot against my lips.
“You know I don’t like orders,” I replied, keeping my voice steady even as my heart pounded in my chest.
“What if I ask?”
I felt the words more than heard them. The light touch started at my lips, then spread slowly in a flush against my cheeks, blood rushing in my veins, until my heart burned with want.
I wanted to stay with him.
I wanted to forget what it cost.
“If I stay, what will you give me in return?”
“Everything.”
Right now, I had nothing. No home, no friends, no family. Not even the name I’d used for more than half of my life. The void inside me seemed too big and deep to fill but accepting Wilde’s ‘everything’ would be a good start.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him so tight he couldn’t slip away even with magic. Our lips met, parting at the same time to invite each other in. His promise coated his tongue, flavoring the kiss until it was almost unbearably sweet.
His tongue untangled from mine, and I tried to follow, refusing to end the kiss.
His teeth scraped against me, a gentle warning to release him or face the consequences.
I pulled back an inch, just enough to let him speak.
Saliva glistened on his red, swollen lips as they shaped words I was too far gone to understand.
After a few seconds where we were for some reason not kissing, a breathless laugh escaped him. “Treasure,” he murmured, tracing a line from my jaw, down my neck, until his hand rested over my racing heart. “Undress me.”
Gladly. I unbuttoned his waistcoat first, splaying my fingers wide as I glided the cloth over his shoulders.
His shirt followed next, up and over his head, baring his naked chest and shoulders to me.
The pale skin was as smooth as silk and twice as luxurious.
It didn’t suit a future evil mage. I wanted to run my nails over it, draw blood, leave scars.
I pressed my lips to his throat, kissing and nibbling a path down. At his shoulder, I dug my teeth in deeper, sucking on the tender skin.
He gasped and wound his fingers through my hair, threatening to pull me away from my prize. “Who said you could bite me?”
I didn’t unsheathe my teeth until I was satisfied with the dark mark I’d left.
“You never said I couldn’t,” I replied, smirking at him, daring him to punish me.
How will he retaliate? I dragged my tongue across his bruised skin, over the dips of his collarbones and to the other shoulder, tempted by the thought of symmetry.
Before my teeth could sink in, he yanked my head back.
Dull, controlled pain throbbed along my scalp. I inhaled sharply, startled and uncertain. The ache mirrored the sensation of my straining erection. He tugged a second time, more gently, and my cock twitched in response.
A slow, satisfied smile spread over his lips and his nighttime eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re going to do everything I say.”
“Or what?”
“That isn’t a threat.” He released my hair and caressed his hand down, his touch now as soft as it had been harsh as he cupped the back of my neck. “More like … a predication.”
“Fuck you,” I replied, savoring each defiant word.
He arched a pale brow. “How can you fuck me with our clothes still on?”
I grasped his hips and flipped him over so that his back hit the couch.
The move surprised him, and his eyes widened.
He recovered quickly, trying to cover his arousal with an impassive mask.
Grinning, I dragged my nails down his sides, marring his pale skin with bright red lines.
No matter how composed he pretended to be, his muscles twitched and flexed under my touch, harder to control.
I slipped one hand down the back of his pants, flush against his skin, brushing the top swell of his ass. Then I slipped the top button from its hole, loosening the waistband.
His expression remained neutral, unaffected, even as his cock strained against his clothes, pulsing with eagerness. I leaned down and exhaled slightly, allowing my hot breath to dampen his underclothes. His erection jumped in response, silently begging me to take it into my mouth.
Ignoring it, I focused on the remaining buttons. The heat of his arousal seeped through the cloth, but Wilde never said a word, allowing me to set the pace.
When I finally revealed him, I didn’t care about going slow anymore. I grasped his shaft and opened my mouth, ready to take him.
“Stop.”
I paused, mouth still open, tongue hanging out as I gazed at him expectantly.
“You’re still dressed.”
You’re fucking kidding me. Closing my mouth, I swallowed roughly and leaned back, stripping off first my jacket, then my waistcoat, and finally my shirt, tossing each piece carelessly across the room.
Once we were in the same state of undress, I reached for him again, but he arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at my pants.
I had to stand to strip completely, removing boots, pants, every damn stitch of clothing until it piled at my feet. I kicked everything off to the side and reached for him again, but he held up a hand.
“Now mine,” he said, pointing down at his own boots.
I knelt in front of him, positioning one of his feet on my knee so I could untie the laces.
Once they were loosened, I tugged the boot off and chucked it toward the growing pile of our clothes.
The second one landed next to the first. In short order, I stripped everything from him until we were both completely naked.
Before I could do anything else, he stood and offered me his hand. “The bed is softer,” he said, his voice a low, inviting whisper.
The rougher fibers of the couch had already left idents on his skin.
Still, I grumbled as I took his hand and climbed to my feet.
“You’re doing this on purpose. Are you trying to ruin the mood?
” I examined his face for signs of eagerness or hesitation.
Nothing. The man would make a killing at poker. “You want this, right?”