37. Astraea #3
“It's fine. I'll see you soon.” I tell her, and although reluctant, she finally nods and allows Viltarin to escort her out of the room. I can feel Kyros’ eyes on every move I make as I follow them to the door.
Watching it close between us and the others.
Brynne asks me to take the holster for my blades off and remove my boots.
As I pull the straps off, my eyes gravitate over my shoulder to Kyros.
His gaze is like a brand as it heats to scorching.
He watches as I fumble with the buckle and then turn, dropping the blades unceremoniously on the bed to his side.
His dark eyes are liquid onyx, a swirling vortex of shadows and smoke as they slide up from where the blades lay discarded to meet mine.
It feels taboo to be flirting with this version of him while another woman is in the same room, whether or not she's actively paying attention to this interaction between us. Biting my lip, I step away and give him my back. I know what I’m doing to him even before I hear him choke on a cough as I slowly bend at the hip to remove my boots.
I hear shuffling on the bed, and I don’t have to look back to know that I’ve caused the future king to lose a little of his precious control.
Brynne’s cheeks are a mottled red as she finally is able to measure me for a dress. Guess she was paying attention.
She works quickly, taking the measurements she needs, and when she's done, she dismisses herself just as fast.
Brynne has barely shut the door, and Kyros’ hands are already on me. His arms wrap me up from behind, and he buries his nose into the crook of my neck. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back, allowing his hands to roam over my body as he hungrily nips at my neck.
“I thought she might never leave.” His tongue trails the delicate skin behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Thought we might not get any time alone after you said you’d be my queen.” The declaration sends those fluttering wings into flight at the center of my chest.
“She was barely here for five minutes.” I breathe a laugh, and he spins me in his arms. Suddenly faced with his intense stare, I suck in a sharp breath. Suddenly very much in need of the distraction from the anguish he’s offering to give me.
“It was long enough with the way you were intentionally teasing me.” His tongue trails the seam of his lips, and my mouth waters as I watch the movement.
“I did no such thing.” I whisper as I feel his hand slowly glide up the sides of my body.
His fingertips are as light as a feather as they tickle along my ribs and then slide under the binding on my chest and between the valley of my breasts.
They only stop when the pad of two fingers presses to my lips.
He rolls his fingertips down, parting them, and continues the path to my chin slowly.
“This mouth is sinful in the ways you use it.” My lips pop open in mock disbelief, and he doesn’t hesitate.
His fingers slide over my tongue. Wrapping my lips around them, I keep my eyes trained on his.
“See, Shula. Sinful, sinful tongue in this mouth.” He whispers, his voice coated in need.
Using said tongue, I swirl it around his fingers, and I watch as his dark eyes flare, deepening to an even more pitch black.
He groans, removing his hand and replacing it with his mouth.
The kiss is demanding.
Frenzied.
He lifts me by my thighs and presses in between my legs, my back against the wall next to the door.
He rocks his hips as he pins me there, giving me just enough friction that I writhe under the pressure and moan his name in response.
I roll my hips searching for more, and he chuckles darkly against my skin.
Digging my hands into his hair, I pull his head back so I can meet his darkness with my own.
“What is this plan you have for the banquet?” He blinks, momentarily confused by my line of questioning, but I hold his gaze, not allowing him to look away. “I know you have a plan outside of what you’ve said.”
“Wicked and intuitive.” He kisses me.
“Kyros,” I breathe into his lips.
“Mmmm, I enjoy hearing my name on your lips.” He kisses me again. “Tasting my name on your lips.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, and it’s delicious.” I pull back and swat at his chest. The sound of his responding laugh vibrates against me.
It’s so pure it takes me a minute to really take in the fact that I heard it.
I smile, and he traces it with his fingers.
“I love this.” My heart skips a beat as I stare at him.
It’s a distraction, but the sound of that word coming from his mouth makes the wings in my chest soar.
“Kyros. What is your plan?” It's his turn to smile this time. He sets me on my feet and drags me across the room until I am pulled between his legs as he sits on the bed. His hands linger on my hips while he looks up at me.
“I’m drawing Phaedra back to Diemos so we can portal into Eathian and get Mavros and Zinya the fuck out of there.”