He was putting on a show.
“It’s as opulent and beautiful as I believed it to be,” Claude answered after a moment. “But I didn’t expect it to be so . . .”
“So?”
I bit down on my lip at the sound of his voice, at the one word. It washed over my skin like heated silk, and my toes curled in their slippers.
“Cruel,” Claude said.
And that one word cooled some of the heat in my blood.
“I have a question for you, Your Grace.”
The Prince inclined his chin.
“Are you as cruel as the rumors claim you are?” he asked, causing my heart to turn over heavily.
Prince Thorne didn’t answer for several too-long moments, only watching as Claude’s fingers continued to move. “Only when necessary.”
Claude seemed to understand whatever that meant. “Would you like something other than whiskey to drink? You haven’t touched what you have in some time.”
“It’s not what I’m thirsty for.”
“I suppose not.” Claude had gone quiet, and that flipping motion repeated. “Pet?” he said against my flushed temple, his thumb sweeping over the throbbing juncture of nerves. “Why don’t you go to the Prince.”
My gaze collided with the Prince’s. The air stilled in my lungs as my body locked up, but my heart hammered.
“He does look lonely,” Claude whispered. “Does he not?”
Prince Thorne didn’t look lonely.
His entire body appeared taut, features sharper in the violently dancing flames. He looked . . .
Prince Thorne looked hungry.
“Go,” urged Claude, slipping his arm from my waist and his hand from between my legs.
I hesitated despite the stunning pulse of desire that echoed in response to the Baron’s . . . what? Order? Permission? I didn’t know which it was. I knew Claude liked to be watched and liked to watch, but this was a prince. Not one of his paramours and another aristo.
But I slipped from his lap and stood, placing my glass on the table. Prince Thorne said nothing, but he tracked me as I walked on legs that felt weaker than they should. I looked at the door, knowing I could leave. Claude wouldn’t stop me. I didn’t think Prince Thorne would. I could easily walk out and put a stop to whatever madness this was beginning to feel like.
I didn’t.
If this were anyone else, I would’ve, but it was him.
I went to the Prince’s side, heart pounding and hands tingling. He looked up at me, still silent, and suddenly I thought that it might have been a good idea to leave. Clearly, if the Prince wanted company, he would’ve said so. A different kind of burn hit my skin. I started to take a step back—
Prince Thorne extended his arm as he leaned back. I froze.
Swirling eyes met mine. “Sit.”
Feeling as if I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, I slipped between him and the table. That was as far as I made it. His arm came around my hips and he tugged me down into his lap.
I felt him immediately.
He was thick and hard against my bottom. My gasp likely echoed through the too-silent hall. Across from me, Claude smiled.
Prince Thorne’s chest was flush against my back. One hand just below my chest, fingers splayed across my ribs, he was sitting straighter than the Baron had been as his fingers left the glass of whiskey. “What do you think of the Princess of Visalia’s intentions to rebel?” he asked of Claude.
“I’m not sure I know enough about her intentions to have an opinion.” The Baron lifted his glass.
“You know she wants to rule,” Prince Thorne said as I watched that hand slip across the smooth surface of the wood, my heart still pounding. “Is that enough?”
“I suppose, but if what drives her is simply a desire to overthrow King Euros?” Claude snorted, taking a drink. “Then I don’t hold her intentions in very high esteem.”
The Prince’s hand left the table and went to my thigh. I gave a little jump as his warm skin came in contact with mine. He didn’t stop there. There was no teasing or . . . or taunting. His hand slid under the gown and between my legs, fingers delving beneath the scrap of lace and against the damp flesh there. My body reacted, back arching and hips lifting to his touch. His chest vibrated against my back, the low rumble scorching my skin. I didn’t know what caused that sound— if it was my reaction or his to the slickness.
“The hunger for power seems to be something that plagues both lowborn and Hyhborn equally,” Claude was saying. “You can’t really fault one for doing what has become second nature.”