He carries me to my bed, and takes care to lower me gently before joining me, taking the side he was on so many hours ago, before we were interrupted by an army at our doors.
I shift to face him, eager for more, but Drusk is in bed, tucked in under the covers. His face is so close to me, I could kiss him. And I do just that, taking his lips, hard. He kisses me back, but doesn't give in to my attempt to deepen the kiss.
"Aren't you an eager little thing, princess," he whispers against my lips.
I am, and I'm not even going to pretend otherwise. I'm done playing for the day.
"But if you want me, you're going to have to pay the price."
I lift a brow. "Oh?"
"Sleep."
He can't be serious.
He chuckles low. "I want us well rested for tomorrow. Sleep a little, and I'll be happy to oblige in any way you could want me to when we wake."
I want to pout. "That sounds counterproductive."
"And nonetheless, it's my bargain. Take it or leave it."
He's bluffing. I'd wager almost anything that if I were to slip out of this dress, straddle him, and ride him, he'd let me. He'd do far more than let me. I don't argue, because annoying as it is, he's right. We both need rest before dusk. Before the world changes for the third time this week.
I close my eyes, doubting that sleep will ever come to me, excited and aroused as I am. But it isn't long before his scent, the rhythm of his heart beating right against me, and the arm he wraps around my middle make me feel safe, sound, and calm.
And so I sleep.
He wakes me with a trail of kisses along my neck. Sometime during the night, I turned around to face away from him. He's right behind me, the heat of his chest warming my back.
I could get used to this. Waking up every day just like that.
"It's almost twilight, princess."
"Queen," I grumble.
"Mmmh."
I suspect he's never going to call me queen. Not that I'd demand it of just about anyone else. I never wanted the crown—I'm only wearing it because I'm the one person who can. But the way he says princess has always bugged me—anything else would be better than that.
"How did you sleep?" I ask, moving to turn to him, but he laughs and grips my hips, pinning me in place.
"Small talk?" Drusk asks. "I can think of better ways to wake up. Can't you?"
Before I can think of any reply, he slides his hand between my legs, to my entrance, still as dripping wet as it was a few hours ago. Now, I can definitely think about a few things more interesting than enquiring about his sleep schedule.
The finger of his right handcurves inside me, and he slides his left arm under my torso to reach my breast, cupping it harshly. Gone is the patience and care he exhibited yesterday. His hands are rough, purposeful. In just a few strokes, a few moments, I'm desperate for more, and so, so close to the abyss.
"Please." I don't think I've ever said that word to anyone at all—certainly not to Drusk. But I say it now anyway. I need more.
"Please what, Your Highness? Do you want me to stop?" His voice is filled with malice.
I gasp. He wouldn't dare!
He laughs at me as I glare behind my shoulder, before bringing his skilled lips to my mouth. His kiss is everything I wanted earlier, when he bullied me into sleeping: deep, demanding, lustful.
I'm lost in a tumult of sensation stronger than everything I have ever experienced.
Though he's only touched me this way once, it's as if Drusk knows my body already; he presses and flicks me exactly where I need until I explode.
