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He nods and wipes the sleep from his eyes. The motion wrinkles his mask enough that his true eyes spark here and there, sending heat up my neck.
I pull aside my blanket and give the place beside me a gentle pat, offering a smile that I hope says,if you dare.
The Prince lifts a brow, reiterating his previous point ofyou’re killing mebefore he grins and lowers himself down onto the cot. He settles beside me, careful not to touch me — to my blatant disappointment — then turns on his side to face me.
We stare at each other for a long moment, our breaths syncing. Then I snake a hand around his waist and pull him closer, skimming my fingers below his waistband.
He sucks in a long, heavy breath. Then he gives in and wraps his arms around me, nuzzling his face against the top of my head.
I sigh, happily enveloping myself in his smell. I press my cheek to his chest and close my eyes, feeling so calm and serene, I know I’ll never sleep well again unless I’m in his arms. I wrap a leg over his waist, enjoying the hitch in his breath and the way he hardens against me. I smile in victory and play with his waistband some more, my fingers trailing from his back to his abs.
He holds me tighter as I go, and I can’t tell if it’s an attempt to stop me or an attempt to restrain himself. I get the feeling it may be both, but I definitely don’t care.
My fingers move over the outside of his pants, running along the hard length of his arousal, my heart stuttering.
The Prince wraps a hand in my hair and clutches the back of my head, drawing my face back.
I still at the pain across his features. Uncertainty fills me. I’ve never had a man be so adamant about not fucking me, and I’ve especially never had one look at me with such a fierce mix of turmoil and lust.
I gently remove my hand from him, my stomach twisting with rejection. I lug my leg back, too, but he catches it, his brows twitching with conflict.
He runs his palm over my thigh, my ass, then slides it under my shirt and grabs my waist.
I allow myself a breathy moan, and the sound tips him over the edge.
But not in the way I hoped.
Instead, he rips himself away from me, pushing up onto his knees and giving me a shake of his head before he clenches his jaw and stands.
I scowl at his back as he strides to the door and leaves, a bit of horror filtering through me.Does he not reciprocate my feelings?I think of his arousal, the way his breaths quickened with my touch.No, he does. He’s just refusing to engage.My hands ball into the duvet, and I glare at the ceiling.
“Zora.”
I sit up at the sound of The Prince’s angry whisper.
He stands at the door, holding it open for me, his expression grim.
I hurry to him, and he grabs my hand, tugging me out into the hall. “What’s going on?” I ask as he pulls me down the tunnel, my feet bare. I cringe as dirt squishes between my toes.
He grips my hand tighter, his gaze dead set ahead. “We’re relieving some tension.”
Chapter Seven
MyheartpoundsasThe Prince tugs me to a dark corner near the end of the tunnel. I run my eyes over his body, thinking of all the ways I’ll achieve what I want, but then he stops.
Before us is a thin door with a small window. It blends with the tunnel wall, meant to be seen by those with an invite and no one else.
“What is this place?” I lift up on my toes to peer through the window, but it’s so dark on the other side, I can only make out shadows.
Every night,” The Prince says, his voice low and filled with tension, “there is an auction held behind this door. Tonight, services are sold. Tomorrow, products.”
A chill wraps around me, knowing both of those things to mean something foul in the Underground. “You’re a fool if you think I’ll step foot in there and not kill anyone.”
He looks down at me, his lips curling up at that. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”
My brows shoot up. “Are you hiring me for a job?”
“More like I want an accomplice.” His gaze darkens as he focuses on the door. “Tonight, my services are being offered. I plan to indulge one of my regulars, but I thought you could take care of him before the full brunt of it.”
