AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So dramatic, Arin. Are you sure you weren’t born into Pain?”
“I’ve had to be like them—like you—to get through this.”
“Oh stop.” I flicked the dagger away and stepped close, pinning his legs to the bed. “You don’t give a shit about any of this. You could have left your room and comforted your mother, you could have called your father’s sins out. But you stayed hidden behind your door. You’re cold and afraid. If you have a heart, it hasn’t beat in years.”
Silvery-blue eyes flicked over mine. “You’re wrong, I feeleverything. But if I let it in, it will break me. So I don’t. I keep it out. All of it… except you.”
I tilted my head and dragged the tip of the dagger down his naked, heaving chest, leaving a jagged scratch behind. “Except me? Then you feel this?” I looked up, and he was watching my face, not what I was doing with the knife. Good. Flicking the dagger around, I pointed its tip downward, pushed it lower, and nudged cold steel against his dick.
His heavy breathing hitched.
“I watched you,” he whispered, golden eyelashes fluttered over desire-wide eyes.
“So you say.” With my free hand, I worked at his trouser ties, jerking the last of them loose.
“I saw such pain in your eyes the first time we met.”
I remembered that moment well. Nineteen years old. I’d dropped to my knee, kissed his hand, and thought him beautiful, even then. His life, his court, it shone with hope and brilliance, and the task of undermining it from the inside out had seemed insurmountable.
I’d vowed to begin with the prince. But he’d vanished the next day, as though I’d dreamed him up, and he’d remained out of reach ever since. Until now. I had him in my hands now.
“I watched your lying smiles,” he said. “Your sleight of hand. And I knew I couldn’t stop you, not without alerting my enemies—but I coulduseyou, Lark.”
“Well, there’s a surprise,” I drawled.
“I planned to let your scheming continue, and your actions would reveal my enemy’s hand in my court’s affairs.”
I plunged my left hand into his undergarments, still holding the dagger in my right hand against his cock, and captured his length in my grip. His sigh brushed my cheek. “While you watched, I dismantled your court,” I whispered. “You knew and did nothing to stop me.”
“My court has long been broken,” he rasped, lashes fluttering low as I stroked my fingers down his eager dick. “You saw it, and so did I. The Court of Love without love is no court at all.”
I wanted to believe him. I had believed him, but it had been lies before, and now I didn’t know what was real around him. His desire was real, there was no denying the firm length sliding between my fingers. Or how his pupils had blown, swallowing the silver in his eyes. Lust was easy; the truth was much harder to find.
He was the prince I couldn’t touch, the prince I couldn’t fool. He’d lied to everyone, even himself. He’d modeled himself on me, he’d silenced Draven to keep my secret safe, to keep his act going, and all the while his court had unraveled around him.
But why? What could he hope to save if there was nothing left at the end of it?
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” I asked.
“You know why. You were my enemy.”
I worked his cock slowly, leisurely, and nudged his mouth with mine, teasing his lips apart. “Iamyour enemy.”
His eyes flashed. “I hate you.”
I bit my lip to keep from moaning. “Lie to me some more, Arin.”
His hand at my throat hauled me into a furious kiss. His tongue thrust, and I took it, lashing back with my own. Hate was the fuel, and lust the spark, and now there was no stopping this inferno.
I shoved, pushing him backward. He fell onto the bed, knees apart, straining cock half exposed from his undergarments. All that fury and hate simmered in his eyes and strummed through his body—a body I hungered to explore. He reached out, as though to hold me off. I pressed the dagger’s flat edge to his chest, pinning him down, then straddled his legs. “Have you ever fucked with a knife at your throat?”
Alarm widened his eyes. “Lark, wait—”
I shoved him back and braced over him. He could speak; I wasn’t smothering him now, just peering into his eyes while he panted and panicked andwanted. A little fear heightened desire, for some. Arin appeared to be the type to enjoy not knowing if it was pain or pleasure about to assault him.
I skimmed the knife’s tip down his hip. He hissed, arching under me, and moaned his need. Those peachy lips parted, and he glared his hate right through me.
“Touch me,” I suggested, or ordered. There was little difference.
