Chapter 31 #3
Elsewhere in the ballroom, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin grew louder and faster.
Luther’s fingers pushed in and out in a matching beat while his thumb kept up a maddening dance around my swollen, sensitive core.
Though I was desperate to make this last, pressure built faster than I could stop it.
I felt along his cheek until I found the ridge of his scar. I set my palm against it, letting it ground me in my disorienting passion. He pressed his lips to the crescent-shaped mark on my collarbone in tender response.
The sweetness of the gesture and what it stood for—our acceptance of each other, exactly as we were—were my undoing.
My muscles went tight, then blissfully loose, and a whimper escaped as ecstasy shattered through me.
He stroked me through each quivering wave, and I turned to liquid in his arms. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he held me as close as our chairs would allow.
I was happy.
Even if just for one heartbeat, I was happy.
And so was he. His contentment filled my chest with twinkling warmth that might have set my skin alight, were it not for the cuffs on my wrists.
In the post-bliss glow, the answers to the questions that plagued me seemed so different. Of course I should tell him the truth and let him complete the bond. Of course we could find a way to change Ophiucae’s heart. With Luther as my mate, there was nothing we couldn’t do.
He pulled back slightly, the sparks of magic in his blue-grey eyes casting just enough of a glow for me to see his face.
He smirked at my tiny whine as his fingers slid out of me.
A tendril of shadow took me gently by the chin, forcing me to hold his stare.
He raised his glistening fingers to his mouth and, one by one, he licked them clean.
My thoughts emptied.
“Shit, baby, that was so good,” the man across the room said between the sounds of clothes being tugged back into place. “We should sneak around more often.”
Luther’s eyes gleamed with amusement, as if to say: So should we.
The door flew open with a bang.
“Queenie, you in here?”
The woman shrieked as the ballroom lights sparked to life. Luther’s magic surged across my skin with the cloak of an illusion.
“Oh, uh—hello,” the man stammered. “We were just, um . . . you see, she and I were—”
“I think we already know,” Zalaric’s voice droned.
“You two seen Her Majesty around?” Taran chimed in.
The man laughed nervously. “Nope, no one in here but us.” Two pairs of footsteps shuffled for the door. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll just, uh . . . .” His voice trailed off as the footsteps ran away.
“I thought you said they were in here, Zal.”
“I said Luther was in here. I haven’t felt Diem’s aura since last night.”
The haze of lust cleared, and reality came crashing down. My hand withdrew from Luther, and I shrank into my chair.
“She’s acting strange,” Taran said. “I don’t like it. When Queenie’s not good, none of us are good.”
“Luther knows her best, and he said she—”
“Looking for me?” Luther said loudly, rising from his chair. His magic parted to reveal him—and only him.
Zalaric let out a surprised laugh. “Were you in here while those two were . . . .?”
Luther strode toward them. “Go ahead, Taran. Make your jokes. I know you’ve got them.”
Taran grunted. “I have nothing to say to you.”
I frowned. The Taran I knew would have the time of his life teasing Luther for eavesdropping on another couple’s romp.
“I thought you were going to find Diem with your compass,” Taran said, his tone cutting.
“The compass can’t find her. She must still be wearing the cuffs from the meeting.”
“You’re real calm about that. Last time she went missing, you bit the heads off half the palace.”
“She wasn’t missing, she was taken. I do not fear her needing time to herself, if that is her desire, but I will not let anyone take her from me unwilling ever again.”
Those words were meant for me—a reassurance of his devotion, and a vow to keep me safe. But there were some villains even my mighty Prince couldn’t defeat.
“She’s probably hiding from her new little brother,” Luther teased.
“Little?” Taran shot back. “I’m not little.”
“Why do you think I’m still here?” Zalaric purred.
I cracked a smile. I missed spending time with Taran. He always told me what I needed, if not wanted, to hear. It was the reason I adored him—and the reason I’d been keeping my distance.
Three sets of footsteps moved to leave, and the lights in the ballroom went dark. “You think Diem would cut off my balls if I called her Sissy?” Taran asked.
I would, I thought.
“She would,” Zalaric said.
“She absolutely would,” Luther agreed. “I left something at the table. I’ll meet you two in the hall.”
The doors snapped shut, returning the room to shadows. Footsteps approached, and Luther’s calloused hand found mine. A small metal object pressed into my palm. “This will open the cuffs whenever you’re ready. I’ll keep the others busy until then.”
I swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”
“Turns out you were right,” he rumbled into the darkness, walking away. “Bad girls get rewarded, too.”