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I curled my fingers inside her, and I felt her clench around me, trembling, all her screams lost as I choked her with my cock, thrusting up until I hit the back of her throat.
I didn’t bother to hold back as I might have if I’d planned to honor her request, thrusting harder into her throat and squeezing my eyes shut, spilling into her mouth, light bursting behind my eyes. I nearly groaned again when I felt her swallow. Fucking amazing.
She released me and panted, her breath coming too hard and fast. I could feel her chest rising and falling and almost wished I’d watched her face, her perfect tits, when she came.
But no—I was sure, without knowing how I knew, that seeing that would have destroyed whatever tenuous hold I had on reality. The reality where I still didn’t get to keep this woman—not really. Where she would never be mine, and I was never going to be happy.
Then she finally slid off me and turned around in the bed. I rose and didn’t look at her as I strode, naked, across the room to go find a towel. “Tell me again how much you hate me.”
“I—” Behind me, she coughed hard, her words getting caught in her throat. “As much as you hate me, I’m sure.”
39
LONNIE
THE CUTTHROAT DISTRICT, INBETWIXT
The castle made it difficult to find your way around if you were not wanted or didn’t belong there. When I’d worked below floors, I had no difficulty navigating the corridors, but as soon as I’d moved upstairs, where the Fae neither liked me nor appreciated my presence, the castle suddenly became a maze of dead ends and twisting corridors. Maybe it had finally accepted my presence here. Maybe its masters had.
Skidding to a halt in front of a familiar door, I gasped for breath. The air was sharp and ashen in my lungs, and I coughed, leaning against the wood for support.
The air in the room was no better. Stale, the power palpable. Magnetic. It surrounded me like a prison of oppressive energy, and a chill permeated my body like death itself had descended.
The darkness was so complete that it took a long moment for my eyes to adjust to my surroundings, yet I knew exactly what I would find there: the bedchamber was taken up almost entirely by an enormous bronze cage, which housed most of the furniture one would expect to find in a standard bedchamber. The last time I’d been in here—the only time—I’d noted that the bed was chained to the bars, making me question what could possibly necessitate such a thing.
An enormous shape leapt off the bed and prowled toward me, coming to a halt on the opposite side of the bars. The air seemed to quiver, quaking with the force of the energy in the room as a pair of golden, catlike eyes glowed at me out of the darkness.
“There you are,” I said. “Didn’t you know I’ve been hunting for you?”
* * *
I sat up with a start,panting, as if I really could not breathe. My heart thundered in my chest, and my entire body quivered, making me feel as if I were shaking the entire mattress. I opened and clenched my fists, trying to expel a terror that would not subside.
“What’s wrong?” Scion’s sleepy voice asked.
My chest clenched. “Nightmare.”
He said nothing, not even opening his eyes. How then did he realize I was awake, much less upset?
I tried to lie back down and could not stop trembling, could not calm my breathing no matter what I told myself. Just because Rosey’s dreams might have been prophecies, that did not mean mine were…mine never had been before.
The castle was fine. Bael was fine, or he would be here. This was anxiety over tomorrow and would be proven false the moment we returned.
Scion put out a large, muscled arm and threw it over me, saying nothing as he pulled me back into his chest. I froze.
He was asleep—or mostly asleep. Not thinking. Just like I hadn’t been thinking earlier…
I made no move to shift away from him. Did not try to wriggle out of his hold and hated myself just a bit for sinking into the warmth.
“I hate—” I tried to whisper.
And just as they had earlier, a pain like nothing I’d felt before, like burning flames, licked up my throat, making my eyes water. I pressed my lips together, holding in a sob that had nothing to do with the pain.
40
LONNIE
THE CUTTHROAT DISTRICT, INBETWIXT
