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“No, there’s nothing else.” I forced a smile. “Thank you for setting me free from that room, however. You were right. I did need a break.”
We walked towards Lancelet.
“Draven’s gone back to your room,” she announced as we drew near. “I can walk you back, then see Guinevere to her chamber.”
I shook my head. “There’s no need for that. I can find my own way. Take care of your—” I stopped myself. I had almost said “Take care of your lady.” “Take care of the High Priestess,” I said firmly. “I’ll speak with you both again soon.”
When I entered our rooms, Draven was sitting on a seat by the window, speaking to two men.
The four of us spoke for a while, discussing the plans that had to be made.
Then the two men left, and Draven and I were alone.
“I didn’t think you’d want to go down to the main hall for supper. So I had food brought up for us.” He gestured to a table across the room that had been set with two chairs and a lavish tray atop it, holding a mix of grilled seafood, roasted vegetables, and an assortment of fresh fruits.
“You were right.” I threw myself backwards onto the large, four-poster bed and then flipped onto one side, looking out the window. Sea birds flew past, and even from here, I could hear the ocean waves.
“It must be nice to live by the sea all of the time,” I mused dreamily.
“A little cold, too, though,” Draven observed as the wind rattled against the window pane.
He crossed over to the large stone hearth and, crouching down, began to make a fire. I watched him as his hands skillfully arranged the logs, placed the tinder, then coaxed the flames to life. He moved with purpose, not bothering to summon a servant to do what might easily be done himself.
When the fire was blazing hot, he rose and crossed over to the table. Uncorking a bottle of glistening ruby red wine, he filled two goblets and carried one to me.
I sat up, took a sip, and closed my eyes. “Mmm. That’s good.”
“The waves, the views, the wine. Are we moving to Tintagel?” Draven jested. He sat down on the bed beside me and eyed the tight-fitting red corset I wore laced up over my black tunic.
“I’ve been wanting to unlace this all day,” he said, moving his hands over the planes of my stomach. I sucked in a breath. “All through that meeting.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” I teased. “Right there in the council room? It’s not like you haven’t broken with convention in such a place before.” I thought of the throne room, and a quiver of hot memory went through me.
“I thought you might prefer... privacy. This time.” Leaning forward, he moved his face up over my stomach, hot breath warming my belly until he reached my breasts. Then he grinned. Working his teeth carefully, he pulled out one of the red corset ribbons, holding it in his mouth.
“Are you going to undo the entire thing that way?” I asked with interest.
“I could,” he bragged. “But no, too slow.”
I watched as his hands moved over me, deft fingers unlacing quickly then sliding the corset top off my body.
“Too many layers,” he growled, eyeing the tunic underneath, and I giggled.
His hands slid up and underneath, tugging the tunic over my body.
And then I was bare, lying there as he looked down at me with open admiration.
“Mine,” he said, running his fingers over one of my nipples. He cupped my other breast. “Also mine.”
“As long as you accept my rule equally,” I said softly, arching a little under his hands and gaze.
I reached my hands up and wrapped them around his horns, then drew him down to me, licking the tip of each black, curved piece of bone until he gasped.
“Willingly and eternally,” he managed to choke out, his emerald eyes fierce with longing.
He pulled back to trace a line down my stomach with one finger, then stopped at the top of my leather trousers and picked up the goblet of wine he had set down on the bedside table.
He lifted it—not to his mouth as I’d expected, but over me—and let a dribble of the rich, red stuff spill onto my chest, first over one breast then the other.
