25. Zarek
Zarek
NOTHING IS NORMAL
The serving woman leads us up a flight of stairs, down a hallway, and up a second flight of stairs. My heart sinks as I count the steps. Four stories. So much for going out through the window.
The woman opens a door, then waves us inside. And I stop like I just smacked headfirst into a stone wall.
Right. One room. One bed.
Lilias walks through the door with her back straight and her head held high. The serving woman says something, and Lilias replies, but my brain doesn’t catch a single word. I’m too focused on the single bed. It’s easily half the size of the bed in my room in Vsenrog.
We’re going to be very cozy in that bed, me and the woman I said I’d divorce.
The servant gives me a strange look as she turns to leave, and I realize I’m still standing on the threshold staring at the bed like it’s holding a knife to my throat.
I smile at the woman and step into the room. She closes the door behind us, leaving me alone in a perfectly nice room, bathed in the light of several oil lamps, with the woman I haven’t spoken to since I got drunk and made an ass of myself.
Gods, I’m an idiot. What the fuck was I expecting? Of course they’d give us a room with one bed. We’re still a married couple, damn it, despite everything. Even if Lilias hasn’t said a single word to me since we left the hunting camp.
Lilias sighs and walks to the window. The stars shine behind her, filling the night with their glorious, silent dance.
I glance again at the bed, and all the parts of my body that are tired and sore from sitting in a saddle and sleeping on rocks cry out at once.
Damn, it would be nice to sleep in a bed again.
Oh well. I pull the dagger from my side and attack the cork of the wine bottle. Lilias turns to me with a frown.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I raise an eyebrow. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
She scowls at me.
“I’m going to dump wine on my cloak,” I say, tilting the neck of the bottle toward her, “and then I’m going to stagger around the castle, act drunk, and gossip with the guards until I find out what in the nine hells is going on in this damned kingdom.”
“Gods, you’re impossible!” she snaps. “I’ll tell you what’s going on in this kingdom. The king is mad about the broken betrothal, and he’s angling for a better deal. A bigger cut of the Dragon Mine. There!”
She slaps her hands together like she’s declaring victory. I grin at her as I slide my blade between the soft cork and the bottle’s glass throat.
“With all due respect, Princess,” I say, “there’s a lot more going on than that.”
The cork comes out of the bottle of wine with a pop.
“You’re wrong,” Lilias says.
She stomps across the floor toward me, rage radiating from her body like some exotic perfume.
“Did that serving lady seem friendly to you?” I ask.
Lilias scowls at me like she doesn’t understand the words coming from my mouth.
“How about the guards?” I continue. “Did they seem respectful? Happy to greet members of a royal family?”
“They seemed fine,” she snaps. “They’re guards. They’re not known for being chatty.”
“What about this room?” I ask, waving the open wine bottle at the very small bed. “Does this look like princess-worthy accommodations?”
“It’s fine!” she replies. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright and hard. Fuck, she’s beautiful. “Half their castle is closed off. I’m sure this was the best room they had.”
“Closed off,” I reply. “Or closed to us?”
“Just closed,” she snaps. “It’s not unusual for a castle to have rooms that are closed. Marion’s entire northern wing is used for storage.”
“I don’t think it’s closed for storage.”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
I raise the bottle. She catches my wrist before I can bring it to my lips. I stare at her dark eyes. My wife looks like she wants to strangle me. It’s not a look that should turn me on, but hells, my cock twitches against my laces as she glares at me.
“We have been traveling for days,” Lilias huffs as her fingers close around my wrist. “You’re exhausted, and you need to sleep. The guards are normal guards. This is a normal room. Part of the castle is closed, and guess what? That’s normal too!”
“None of this is normal,” I reply.
“Just get in the bed,” she growls.
Blood surges into my cock. Lilias growling at me with murder in her eyes is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, and suddenly, none of the rest of it matters. Princes and kingdoms, betrothals and backroom bargains, wars and invasions, it all falls away.
I’m in a room with the most beautiful woman in the world, and godsdamn it, I’m tired of pretending I can resist her. If she’s going to fight me, then fuck it. I’ll fight right back.
I let the wine bottle fall. It hits the ground with a dull thud; the room fills with the thick scent of red wine. Lilias gasps and releases my wrist.
I grab her, then spin, pushing my chest against her back as I wrap my arm around her waist. My cock throbs against the swell of her perfect ass.
“Princess,” I whisper into the soft curve of her ear.
She whimpers, and her hips rock back, pressing into my stiff cock.
“You’re used to people obeying you, aren’t you?” I ask.
Her breath catches as my hand slides down the front of her dress; I grit my teeth against the blind rush of arousal.
The room smells like wine and my wife’s perfume, and gods, I’m tired of waking up every morning hard as iron, tangled in my sleeping roll, rising through layers of erotic dreams about the woman now in my arms. The woman I haven’t touched since we came together in the hayloft of a run-down little inn for the best sex of my entire life.
I’m tired of ignoring her, of ignoring this, the fire that burns through my veins every time I’m close to her.
The aching need to touch her. I turn toward her, closing my eyes as I press my lips to the soft curve of her neck.
Her pulse shivers against my mouth, even as her hips rock, grinding against my cock, sending wave after wave of need through my body.
She shivers as I run my fingers through the folds of her skirt, not even sure what I’m looking for until I find the pocket and sink my fingers into it.
“You think the snake should obey you too?” I whisper as I part the fabric. “You want me to do everything you tell me to do?”
She gasps, and I find the hole she cut in the pocket of her dress. Just like I told her to. My fingertips brush against the heat of her naked thigh as I pull a trembling breath over her neck. Gods, she smells good. I let my fingers creep higher as she pushes her hips into mine.
And then I feel the rough leather strap of the sheath I gave her. I almost moan as I brush the dagger’s pommel. It’s warm with the heat rising from her body.
“You still have my dagger,” I say, my lips against her neck.
She gasps something in reply, and her hips rock against my cock. I clench my jaw to keep from groaning against the wave of pleasure. My fingers trace the strap of the dagger’s sheath along the curve of her thigh, creeping closer and closer to the place where her legs meet.
“Gods,” she chokes. “Gods, don’t—”
I freeze.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps.
She reaches up, sinking her fingers into my hair as her back arches against me. I look down at the swell of the world’s most exquisite breasts, and then I press my fingers against the heat of her dripping sex.