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“No. I like to take my time.” His thumb inched closer, touching the side at the front. Her fingers tightened on the air at the nape of his neck, not immune to it. “I like to work my way over every inch. Do you want to know why?”
She swallowed. “Why?”
“Because it’s different in every area. The shoulders and legs are working points that would open up if one pays attention to them. The neck, tits, and back of the knees are sensitive and deserve to be played with gently. But the wet heat between the woman’s legs is the most sensitive, and it doesn’t just deserve a cock thrust like a barbarian in it.”
“It doesn’t?”
“It needs fingers. A mouth. A tongue. All working together to get it wetter and make it open up more. I like when a woman opens up. I like it when she’s so lost in it, and it’s not just me receiving pleasure from the exchange.”
Her pulse stopped, then stuttered. He felt the heat doubling over her body and seeping into his and took in how they were so close, they were almost tangled up on that dance floor. The sheer want made his nerves tremble, but he wasn’t the only one as Winter quivered once or twice, a delicious tremor that made him want to haul her out of here. Drag her somewhere private, spread those legs, and…
Contract. Helpless. Authority.
“Why, Nathaniel, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to seduce your mistress all over again.”
The chirped words had him blinking, breaking the desperate fight to keep him from doing what his body dictated. A look at her had comprehension dawning that she was no longer flirty and relaxed but wide-eyed and careful, the wall erected. Then there was a subtle pinch on his chest before she beamed.
“How about you go check in with your father?”
It took a while, but the arousal crashed hard. Mortification rose that he had been too busy getting horny over her that he had gotten distracted. Around them, guests danced closer, then craned their necks, a back-and-forth as they watched father and son in the same event. Nate stiffened, zoning in on the man on the other end of the room already seated on an elevated throne that was always set up in case they made an appearance. Then he looked back at Winter, who still beamed but whose body was betraying her nervousness.
“I should. I will.” He hesitated.
“There you are,” Rebekah said, taking Winter’s wrist. “My husband doesn’t believe that sandcastles are fun, so I was hoping you could help me defend my case.”
He could have kissed her out of gratefulness, but Nate merely nodded, maintained brief eye contact with Matthew, and let Winter go. Rebekah ushered her away from prying eyes while Nate strode to the front. He bowed to his father, then approached the man and sat on the empty chair beside him. There were gasps and whispers that he was sitting on the queen’s spot, but he ignored them.
Hathor Hendricks was enrobed in his standard attire of silk, sewn jewels, the golden logo emblazoned more prominently on the chest area, and the simple gold crown on his head. His ruddy cheeks were sharp, and his eyes were a bright black as they flickered over to him.
“Son,” was the short greeting. “I was told there would be a real sun.”
“That would be suicide for most of our kind. Father, aren’t you…?”
“Happy to be here. Glad to have sunshine as always.”
The warning not to ask about his health was clear, but so was the reason for this abrupt appearance: the king wanted to establish that he was one of the rare ones whose favorite season was summer, and nothing was changing that—hence, nothing was changing that he was still as powerful as ever, unshaken. The absence of his mother established another point: that she wasn’t worried about her husband and could care less about this event, as always. In short, the secret was still a secret, and images were perfectly maintained.
“I see.” An idea formed and he leaned closer. “Have you ever heard of a pirate with three nose rings?”
“I have heard of pirates back in my day.” There was a contemplative pause. “Isaiah, isn’t he?”
“Yes. I was wondering if he would be a good candidate for the exclusive distribution of silks to our house. He sources the finest ones.”
“Our silks are great as they are.”
“House Rue has been quite the talk of the town for their new fits. They are wearing rare materials from Fae and shifter hands.”
Black orbs met his. “Let me guess. Your mother might get word of it.”
“You know how she loves her silks.”
And how she threw a tantrum when someone wore something rarer than she did. The king seemed to realize this, too, and nodded.
“He’s dangerous. Useful, but dangerous. Interview him first. Make sure whatever he sells you isn’t a scam and a copy of whatever he sells the other houses.” A pause. “Make sure we get to choose first.”
And there was Nate’s opening to set up a meeting with the notorious pirate and let Winter read him without arousing suspicion.
“I will make sure, father.”
