He did as he was told. She quickly pulled off his belt, and as she shifted his trousers down he wondered, followed by an instant stab of guilt, how many times Lilac had done something like this. She was free to do as she pleased. He hadn’t asked her before, and it did not occur to him when they’d first made love. It certainly didn’t matter now; it was a mere carnal question, fleeting, one of selfish greed that yearned to belong to her. One that merely wanted to ensure all the hands and mouths who’d ever worshiped her had feared and cherished her, just as much as he.
He chuckled darkly to himself. Of course, they hadn’t.
“Garin?” Her voice was husky.
The sound of his name broke his reverie and caused him to look down in answer, just before she took his length in her palm.
“What are you thinking of?” Lilac glanced up at him as she stroked him, just as she had on their first night together. He exhaled, recalling how difficult it had been not to tilt her head back and coax himself past her lips then. He wouldn’t do that now, but he also wouldn’t stop her. Tonight, Garin would do exactly as she wanted.
“You,” he finally said. It was all he could say after everything he’d accidentally just confessed to her.It is always you.
She laughed, a whimsical sound, just before she slid to the floor. He twitched in her hand as her warm tongue met the tip of his cock, coaxing her thumb against his sensitive underside. She locked eyes with him and ran her mouth down his shaft.
Garin let out a strangled sound and stumbled back as she took more than half of him into her mouth. He felt her throat constrict around him; it had been a few years since he’d been with a woman this way, but that wasn’t anything close to whatever spell the queen had him under. She didn’t even look up when he grasped the mantle to keep them from falling into the hearth. With his cock in her mouth, she didn’t seem to notice, only following him on her knees as he shifted them to safety against the wall to the right of the fireplace.
Not knowing what to do with himself, Garin reached down to collect the strands of her hair. It was everywhere, escaping her braids in loose waves; eventually, he gathered all of it in his left hand.
“Tighter,” she removed herself to say, then bobbed down on him again.
Garin flexed his fingers, and she reacted almost immediately to the sensation at her scalp, moaning. The sound vibrated around his shaft as she started to suck him deeply, with her mouth and her fist enclosed around the rest of him.
“Fuck.” Once he found her encouraging him to control the movement of her head, he knew he wouldn’t last long. He felt himself losing control, and it was a battle he’d willingly lose.
She rocked back to look up at him. Her face was reddened, and she laughed as she wiped her lips and chin, so gloriously messy. Her eyes flashed with such a hungry mirth, Garin wanted nothing more than to drop to his own knees and beg to be the one who worshiped her at the altar.
Gods. Modron made himjustfor her.
“Not yet,” she said, and moved to stand.
He kissed her on her way up, his lips meeting hers fervently, aching to be in constant contact with her. He needed her, but this—this was so wrong. She’d soon be crowned. Married. He had done all in his power to urge her along that path of destiny.
Lilac nipped softly at his bottom lip and giggled into his mouth. Thiswoman was single-handedly beating her own destiny back with a stick. Or perhaps a dagger.
She was the beginning and end of his demise.
“I need to feel you.” She tugged him by his shirt off the wall. She continued their kiss and pivoted him, guided him until the backs of his knees hit the settee. Then, she shoved him. There was none of that unusual strength there from the other early morning, Garin noted, distantly pleased. But he played along and sat back for her.
She was already slipping her dress off, looking entirely ethereal and soft, framed by the firelight. He watched, mesmerized, and thought about how her curves and divots felt beneath his palms, the way her romantic waves of hair brushed her shoulder blades. How soft her skin felt beneath his fingers calloused by time and the blade.
Garin leaned back, smiling appreciatively as she glimpsed him with his cock in his hands. Lilac pivoted to the flames, as if undressing for him still daunted her.
Finally, he thought. A healthy dose of fear.
He scooted aside to make room as she approached him, eager to feel her quaking under him again. But Lilac just leaned over him, lifting one leg, then the other. Straddling him.
She positioned herself in his lap, her dripping cunt bare and rubbing against him. Garin reached up, tenderly cupping and planting kisses upon her breasts as she leaned into him. He braced himself.
Out of nowhere, the amplified scent of her blood hit him again.
Garin grabbed her by the shoulders and sat up. He felt his pupils dilate before he even processed what she had done. Lilac sat back, red dripping onto her bare stomach, down past her navel, pooling between their thighs.
“Shit,” he heard her mumble, though he could only focus on the blood running down her torso, a surge of ecstasy and vile hunger rattling his soul.
She dropped the scalpel he’d thought had been lost to the floor and brought her bleeding wrist toward his mouth, unknowing of what she’d just done. Some of it dripped onto his white tunic, spreading in blotches of burgundy on his shoulder. “Whoops.”
“Lilac,” Garin sputtered, catching her arm in his shaking fingers. He couldn't even get a full sentence out without her temptation invading hisnostrils, the hunger ramming him like an ox. He held his breath, only to learn it didn’t matter.
He could taste her so violently on his tongue he thought he would be sick. It shouldn’t have hit him this way. The sensation wasback—that overwhelming hunger, the one that had caused him to rip through more throats in a single night than he had during the Raid.
