Kyven’s efforts increased. The dagger sizzled in my hand, but I rammed my eyes shut and blocked it out. As awful as it was, as horrific a person as it made me—and it did, it really did—no part of me wanted this to stop. That thing he was doing with his tongue was intoxicating. And the more I thought about it, didn’t he owe me some kind of compensation for putting me to all this trouble of killing him?
Yes, I decided. Absolutely yes.
“Touch me, lioness.” His breath was a lick of fire against my skin. “Wife.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. My free hand leapt to obey, skimming down hard planes of muscle before settling at the small of his back.
Kyven’s hand roamed under my nightgown, dipping into the curve of my waist. His palm was unexpectedly rough, but that hardly mattered when it felt like someone had plunged me into a vat of my own yearning, then dumped me out on the bed again, flushed and slippery and panting.
An unchecked moan worked free of my throat. Kyven responded with a sound that made my thighs clench, and then he was pulling my legs apart, settling between them, rocking his hips into mine.
“I’m going to relish every moment of this,” he said thickly. “There’s something captivating about you. Like if I’m not careful, you’ll bite.”
Oh, he had no clue. “Maybe I will.” I ground my hips upward, mirroring his movements.
“Mmm. Promise?”
When I didn’t respond, he pulled away, taking that gift of a tongue with him. For long moments, he stared down. Only it wasn’tstaring, really. More like peering into my soul. His pupils were huge and black and bottomless, his irises little more than frosty haloes.
I stared back, my heart thudding a frantic rhythm. Had Merron ever looked at me like this? I didn’t think so. He’d never kissed my neck that way, either, or sent me spinning through space with nothing to grab hold of. He’d never melted me to a red-hot glow. No, Merron was steady. Safe. He was...
Oh, goddess.Merron.
His name sliced through the haze. I’d had him on top of me mere hours ago, just like this. I’d had himinsideme, for Zephyrine’s sake. Right in this very spot.
What the hell was I doing?
Kyven bent, clearly aiming for a kiss this time. I managed to wrench my dagger free and angle it toward his throat. The blade stopped just short, the sharp edge kissing his skin, the flattened spine braced against my forearm.
Nothing moved. Harsh breaths invaded the quiet—mine? His?
Kyven’s gaze flicked downward, then back up. “Is that a knife in your hand,” he said slowly, “or are you just happy to see me?”
“Get off.”
He jerked up into a sit, palms raised. I chased his retreat with my blade, never breaking contact with his skin.
“I’m...confused,” he said.
“Really? What part of having a knife to your throat isn’t clear?”
“That part’s rather crystal. It’s only...I thought you said you wanted this. That you wantedme.”
Dead, I told myself. That was how I wanted him. I eyed the soft, vulnerable flesh of his throat, where his pulse shimmeredagainst the bright line of my dagger. Just a flick of my wrist, and his life would escape onto the floor.
Kyven studied me. “Lioness?”
I raised my eyes, searching his for some kind of tell. Surely a man who harbored horrors upon horrors couldn’t contain them completely—some hint wouldhaveto leak through, like light from beneath a barred door.
But no matter how deeply I looked, I couldn’t find an edge in him. Only confusion and the banked blue burn of desire.
A growl piled in my throat. Goddess, if only he’d hurt me, or let me peek beneath the facade, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But he hadn’t.
I lowered my blade, disgusted with both of us.
Kyven scooted away. He stretched out along the bed’s far edge, his head propped on a hand, looking far more relaxed than a man who’d just rubbed elbows with death had any right to.
“Apologies,” he said. “I thought... Well, when you said you wanted this, I took that to mean we’d both decided to enjoy ourselves.”
