Chapter 52 #3
He wanted to give her a clever retort. Wanted to keep the banter going, to get her to understand that she’d made her point, that they were in public, for fuck’s sake—
She ran her tongue up the underside of his cock in a long, languid stroke, and his world blurred around the edges.
When she sucked the sensitive tip into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and swirling him with her tongue, he had to grip the arms of his chair so hard he feared they’d snap.
His breaths came in heavy pants, heart pounding in his ears in beat with the music, as Mariah swallowed his cock beneath the table.
It was so wrong. This was a public celebration, set in a temple to the gods, and they were guests of honor. If anyone glanced in their direction, curious about the foreign queen in attendance, they would see her empty chair.
And they’d probably see him, locked in a battle with his own body, and wonder what in the gods’ name was happening in their alcove.
Even with that thought, even knowing how wrong this was…fuck, it was also so gods-damned hot.
Pleasure curled at the base of his spine, weeks of being caught on the edge of desire and denied—both by himself and by her—coursing through his body and threatening to pull him apart at the seams.
His eyes fluttered, losing himself in his queen’s hot, wet mouth, the way she took him down her throat so fucking well, the way her hands cupped his balls and her tongue circled around his shaft—
“Ah, the Onitans!”
Andrian’s heart dropped into his stomach, his eyes flying open. The oldest council man—Viktor, if he remembered correctly—approached their table, a glass of amber liquor clutched in his hand. He was slightly unsteady on his feet, swaying with the music from the play as he walked.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Mariah had also stilled, the sudden loss of her around him like a cold shock to the system. He shifted, trying to sink lower in his seat, suddenly so fucking thankful that the aisle running in front of their table was set on a lower ledge.
Viktor halted, glazed eyes meeting Andrian’s. He took another sip from his drink. “I apologize for interrupting,” he said, words running together. “Where is the queen? She is here tonight, is she not?”
A breath ghosted across his cock, like a soft chuckle. Andrian tried not to wince. “Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. He softly cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said again. “She’s here. Just using the powder room.”
The fucking powder room? Did he even know what a powder room was?
It seemed to be enough of an answer for the old man, though. Viktor nodded emphatically. “Ah, of course. But I do hope she is enjoying the show?”
As if in answer, Mariah gripped his cock, pumping him slowly.
Andrian gritted his teeth, gripping the chair to control his trembling. “Yes, she is. Very much.”
If the man noticed that his answer was more of a choke, he didn’t comment.
Viktor tipped his drink back, finishing it in a single gulp. “That is good,” he slurred. “Well, please enjoy your night. I hope to find her after the feast.”
Andrian gave him a tight nod and an equally pained smile. “That would be—” Teeth nipped at the head of his cock, his words catching in his throat. “That would be great,” he rushed out, begging to whatever god would listen that this man would leave.
As if on cue, as if his prayer had been answered, the same server from earlier rushed into the aisle.
“Sir!” the youth squeaked. “You must return to your seats. The show is not yet over!” She shot an apologetic glance up at Andrian before gripping the elder council man’s elbow and guiding him back to his table.
Andrian released a heavy sigh of relief, head falling back against the chair. Mariah stopped, and Andrian glanced down at her between his legs with a raised eyebrow and a wicked smirk.
“Don’t you dare fucking put me through all that and not finish the job, princess.”
For a moment, he thought she would dare.
But he knew his queen was darker and dirtier than that.
That gods-damned mouth wrapped around him again, taking him down her throat as if it were crafted just for him, and he lost himself in her.
Piercing pleasure sank into the base of his spine just as the music reached its next crescendo. Voices and instruments converged, a brilliant, triumphant melody. She worked him faster, so hot and wet and sweet. His hand slipped from the arm of the chair and sank into the thickness of her hair.
His eyes met hers, asking a silent question. She gave him the most subtle of nods, and his control shredded through him.
The music reached its peak as pleasure wracked through him, his release slamming into him with mind-splitting ferocity. Stars glittered at the edges of his vision, shadows dancing down his arms, caressing her cheeks, her throat, her body.
Reality filtered back in as the chorus played its final note, the performers striking their final poses.
His chest heaved, lungs dragging in air, limbs trembling.
He slipped from her mouth, and with whatever mental power he had left, he swiped the folded napkin from the table and handed it to her.
The warmth of her body vanished from between his thighs.
He quickly pushed himself back into his trousers, buttoning himself up just as the music faded into silence and the room broke into thunderous applause.
When the lights in the cavern blazed back to life, Mariah was once again seated next him, as polished and perfect as ever, even as she dapped the napkin to the edge of her mouth.
Something raw and primal swept through Andrian. She set the napkin down and he was on her, his mouth capturing hers in a devastating, hungry kiss.
Her cheeks and neck were flushed that beautiful shade of pink when he released her. The room still shook with applause, but this moment existed just for them.
“You are infuriating and filthy and so gods-damned fucking perfect,” he growled, gripping the back of her head.
She smiled, but it was no longer wicked or edged with mischief. It was genuine and soft and almost shy. “Not too much?”
Andrian barked a laugh, releasing her as he settled back in his chair, hands coming together to join the ongoing applause.
“Never too much, nio. Never for me.”
She clapped her hands as well, but her gaze remained fixed on him. “And what will your lesson be?”
Gods, was she nervous?
Since he was far from a good man, that thought made him unreasonably excited. She may be able to ruin him in public, but she knew he was fully capable of returning the favor.
Knew he fully intended to return the favor.
Gods, he couldn’t fucking wait.
He simply gave her a smile as the performers took their final bows. The servers filed out from the halls, laying plates of steaming and fragrant food on their table.
“I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”
The intrigued look she gave him—one hinted with just the slightest bit of fear—might’ve cured a bit more of his darkness.