“You want me,” I point at myself, before pointing at the underwear, “to wear those?”
One dark brow dips as he regards them again. “Well, I suppose I could shimmy them on, but I do maintain they will be a far better time for you.”
A far better time.
Oh sweet fae lords, the piece on the crotch is a vibrator. They are massaging panties, and he is suggesting I put them on. For dinner.
“How—how can those even work? There are no electronics in Midnight.”
There’s a devilish gleam in his eye. “I smuggled inbatteries.” The last word comes out as a low hiss of conspiracy.
I shake my head despite the heat swirling and coiling around my lower belly at the thought.
“Oh, come on, Cinder,” he says, his voice dropping to a low timbre that has my nipples wrenching into tight, sensitive buds. I’m starting to doubt the decision to pierce my nipples, as it makes my reactions to Charming all the more intense.
“After all, my little black rose,” he drawls, setting a hand on either arm of the chair I’m in, caging me in, “the panties don’t have fangs.”
His words are equal parts seduction and challenge.
With an unladylike snort, I snatch the underwear from his hands. His eyes widen as he stands back, giving me room. It’s almost as if he didn’t believe I’d actually do it.
It’s not a good habit to fall into, intentionally trying to shock him, because he might think I want more of his attention than I do.
But I can’t help but delight in the way he pales when I bend over, pulling them right over my feet to draw them up my legs.
Take that prince slut muffin. I can play too.
“Don’t you need to take off—” He swallows hard while pulling at his collar.
“I’m not wearing any,” I cut him off.
I want to laugh. Kaison, the fairy prince who has slept with likely hundreds, if not thousands of willing partners, is acting like a wolfish cartoon character whose tongue has rolled out of his head while his eyes turn into little fires.
His reaction is so satisfying I almost believe I’m not an idiot for putting these panties on.
Chapter 19
Woof Woof, Motherfuckers
CINDER
I’m an idiot.
An idiot who handed over control of my body to a prince who wants to play with it.
Seated at the banquet table in a grand stone hall, I can’t even see the end of the attendees on either end; it spans so far and wide.
Dinner in the Midnight realm is about as fun as a bag full of nearly dead, gasping tuna fish. A blood liqueur mix is poured into goblets while I am offered a glass of expensive champagne.
I almost think to ask for a glass of whiskey, but I have already done enough to rock the boat. They’d likely look at me as though I’ve defecated in the middle of the floor. The fact I have to performthatparticular function is just more evidence I’m a lowly animal compared to them.
Good thing I snatched that pumpkin bread and scarfed it down when I could because as predicted, there is no food being served here. Not human food in any case. Most vampires thinkit’s disgusting when humans eat. Something about the way we chew offends them.
I know there are vast reserves in the kitchens for the familiars, but that stuff tends to be canned and past its expiration date. It’s why I made sure to stop for that latte and cake. There is no decent eating on this side of the realm.
Sitting at the center of the table with my prince doesn’t stop the icy chill of everyone’s disdainful gaze dripping down my skin. I’m sandwiched between Kaison and the Queen.
The Queen's smile is an absent mask of polite indifference, while the King's grin is a sharp-edged warning from her other side, daring anyone to question his joy over our impending marriage.
