Page 43 of Witch’s Ruin

It was a low blow. This wasn’t her fault. Even if she’d made the decision to come here.

Her mouth opened and closed. “I…”

“Well, Your Highness?” The voice was persistent. He wanted to open the door, grab the speaker by the throat. “What shall I tell your father?”

A headache formed between his eyes. He winced, face pinching to ward it off—

“Tell him you’ll be there,” Mina said, her expression settling. He knew that look. Determination.

Fucking hell. He drew himself up to his full height, crossing his arms. “No.”

The refusal surprised even him.

“You will,” she whisper-hissed, jaw tightening. “This is his game. We are in it for the long haul, Rixon. You will be compliant.”

His nostrils flared. For the first time, he pushed back. Hard. “I came here to slay demons, Mina,” he bit out, “not sit on council meetings like a fucking prick.”

She took a deep, pained breath, shutting her eyes. When she next looked at him, he saw her guilt. “Please, Rix. I need to buy time so that we can figure this out. Let your father think he has you. For now. Buy me a week—perhaps two. We cannot fight him and demons, simultaneously.”

“So…you’re just giving up then?”

A rapid burst of a laugh broke from her chest. “Hardly. You play along—he thinks he’s won. We fix the issue at hand and then disappear. You ran away once, all by yourself. You can do it again, with me.” She hesitated, filling the space between him, rubbing her hands along his biceps. He unconsciously reacted, muscles flexing. “Please, Rixi? Do this for us?”

He snorted.“Rixi? Again with that nickname nonsense.” And yet, he’d never admit that he kind of liked it.

A dark blush crept up her neck and she shrugged. He inhaled, letting her request sink in. She was right. He knew it, even if he fought against it. They needed to figure out what was happening, and in the mean time, he needed to keep his father off his back. But…what if this was just the beginning? What if his father demanded more, and more, and more?

“Your Highness?” the voice behind the door probed again.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, then lifted his voice and said, “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. I’ll inform His Majesty. Good day.”

“Who was that?” Mina asked after the voice departed.

He scoffed. “Definitely not a servant. Not with how they spoke. Probably an advisor, or one of my father’s personal assistants.” He raked his hands through his hair, still slightly damp. A quick look at the clock told him all he needed to know. “He’s doing this on purpose. Shutting me out of the palace for missing dinner, then forcing me to sit in on his council when I’ve only had a few hours of sleep.” He shook his head. “He thinks he can turn me into a prince, into an heir, and punish me when I rebel against it.”

Like he was an errant fucking child.

Mina ignored his tirade, instead taking his face in her hands, lowering it to hers, kissing him. It was a slow kiss, thanks for what he’d agreed to. It spoke of pleasure and promise, making his center curl. For a few moments, he forgot about his father, forgot about his responsibilities, forgot about demons… He tasted only her, relishing in the wetness and warmth of her mouth. His cock hardened.

“I’m aching for you,” she whispered against his lips, her breath mingling with his. Words used as a weapon of coercion. Not that he needed any coercing. “Come along you my defiant wielder, and give me your cock before you go.”

A low chuckle built in his throat. “In all my years, I have never met such a needy female.”

“Only because no female has ever needed your cock as I have, Rixon.”

“Fine, but I’m making love to you this time, and it will be on my terms, not yours.”

She opened her mouth, but the look he gave silenced any protest. Scooping her up, he carried her to the bed and deposited himself between her legs, devouring her cunt. He lapped and sucked, swiping his tongue in broad, claiming sweeps.

“Rixon!” she gasped out, squirming beneath him, impatient. Always so impatient. When she moved too much, trying to hasten her orgasm, he growled, pinning her to keep her from it. He would allow her to come when he felt like it, or not at all. His cock turned unbelievably rigid, hardly satisfied as he bucked his hips against the mattress, looking for reprieve.

He could have buried himself in her, could have taken what he wanted, but not this time. No, not after their argument. He would make this slow, torturous for both of them, but especially for her.

He pushed her thighs wider, both hands splayed over her soft skin. He pushed until there was resistance, then gently pushed further, stretching her wide open for him as he feasted. His teeth nipped at the little bud of nerves, ravaging her clit. She cried out, chest rising and falling, nipples pricked towards the canopy overhead. His eyes darted there frequently, watching his effect, relishing in the power it gave him. His witch, helpless against his onslaught, helpless as he took whatever he wanted.

His tongue swirled around her opening, then dove inside. “Rix…” she gasped. “Please!” It was a strangled cry.