“Just tell the others of the plan,” I instructed Marth. “This is the only way for all of us to get what we want.”
He nodded, and I turned at the knock on the door. Somehow I knew Prisca was standing there even before Marth opened the door.
She smiled at him, and that strange, feral jealousy crept into my gut. Marth raised his eyebrow at me and smiled back at Prisca, although he was stepping out into the hall within a second.
“Where is he going in such a hurry?”
“Nowhere that concerns you,” I said, that irritation still prickling along my spine.
Prisca raised one eyebrow. “Ah. It’s time for some brooding. I’ll leave you alone.”
I’d caught her hand and trapped her against the door before I was aware I’d moved. Irritation turned to fury. This was never supposed to happen. This woman was never supposed to make me question everything.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” I asked.
Prisca beamed up at me. “Vicer agreed to help. The rebels are back in.”
“Now is not the time to say another man’s name.”
She let out a breathless laugh. “I can come back later…”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
My mouth slammed down on hers, capturing her moan, as I pushed her dress high, sliding my hand to her hot core.
“Already slick for me. You enjoy making me lose control, don’t you?”
Her next laugh turned into a moan as I slid one finger inside her and then another. She clamped around my fingers, her hips arching, and I scraped my teeth down her neck. She tasted like sweet poison. Like everything I shouldn’t want…and would kill to keep anyway. But she moaned once more—just as desperate for me as I was for her. That thought soothed the worst of my fury. At least in this, we were the same.
I wanted to tease her some more. Enjoyed making her beg. But I needed to feel her. I was desperate with the need to—
“Now, Lorian,” she gasped, and I pulled my fingers free, almost fumbling as I loosened my pants just enough. My hands found her ass, and I lifted her, pressing her into the wall. She opened for me, and I sank all the way to the hilt. There were no words for the pleasure I felt while right here. Inside her. Prisca let out one of those rough groans, and I caught it with my mouth, stealing it from her.
Holding her in place, I thrust, my vision narrowing, until all I could see was her. I let out a growl of my own when she writhed for me, her hands finding my shoulders, my back, her nails digging in as she attempted to spur me on.
“My pace,” I reminded her, and I felt her tighten around me. My laugh was more of a breathless grunt. Prisca loathed being told what to do more than anyone I’d ever met—except maybe me. And yet here, when I was inside her, she wanted my dominance. My orders made her come alive.
I slammed into her, and she gasped, angling her hips for me, taking me deeper. Picking up the pace, I slid my hand down to her clit, tensing at the way her inner muscles clamped down on me. At the way they began to flutter around me.
I pounded into her, flicking her little nub as her breath caught in her throat. The moan she let out…combined with the hot press of her around my cock, as if she never wanted to let me go…
I came so hard, I had to steady myself with a hand against the wall, grinding my teeth at the pleasure. Prisca shook against me, tiny aftershocks that I wanted to feel every fucking day.
I felt her slowly coming back to herself and lifted my head. Her eyes were at half-mast, glinting amber despite the charm. She opened her mouth, but I took her lips—not yet ready to return to reality.
I’d told her she was mine, but she hadn’t truly accepted it. Soon, she would learn exactly what that meant.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The morning of the Gods Day ball, I woke up the moment Daselis opened my door.
Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and bolted for the bathing room.
Daselis followed me in as I heaved. “Are you okay?”
She was kind enough to put a damp washcloth on my neck. I shuddered and closed my eyes.
“Is it… Are you…pregnant?”
“What? No.” I was filled with a dread so all-encompassing, I felt like someone was sitting on my chest while someone else played with my intestines.
Three hundred and nine lives. And that wasn’t counting the rebels. Once Vicer had agreed with my plan, they’d all fallen in line. If I failed…
We were all dead.
I leaned over and retched again. Daselis held the back of her hand to my forehead—the first time I’d ever seen concern on her face. “You’re not feverish.”