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He would have walked out of the room and kept going before he asked me to put my mouth on his beautiful cock.
So it made me want to do it even more.
He was close now. Something had changed. I could feel it.
I stroked more firmly, speeding up just a little, and that was it. With fascination, I watched as Draven utterly lost control.
His hands reached for my head, fingers running through my hair, as he rocked against my mouth. His fingers slid down the back of my neck, every place they touched setting me ablaze in the best way.
And then he moved back, surprising me, pulling his cock out of my mouth and spilling his release on his stomach with a sound of such primal satisfaction that even though I felt partly cheated–I hadn't gotten to taste him–I couldn't help but ultimately feel pleased.
I had done this to him. Pleased him. Brought him some release.
I gazed down at him. His eyes had briefly closed. One of his hands was still in my hair, gently caressing, while the other sprawled over his chest.
He looked so innocent. So vulnerable.
Was this how Nodori had seen him?
Something tugged painfully at my heart at the thought of his first wife.
She had not been loved. Not in the way most women would want a man to love them. Was he even capable of loving a woman in that way?
I felt a stab of strange sorrow for the woman who had been his childhood friend and then been forced to become his bride. Had she gone into the marriage willingly or simply out of duty as he had?
And yet I knew somehow beyond a doubt that she had loved him deeply. And to love Kairos Draven and not be loved in the same way in return... Well, I couldn’t imagine a worse fate.
I wasn’t jealous of Nodori. No, I pitied her. Because she had died in the most tragic way possible. Though she must have known he would avenge her, it would have been small comfort at the time.
Draven’s eyes opened. “What are you thinking?”
I struggled to clear the truth from my face.
“Just what a terrible mistake this all was and how I’m already regretting it.”
The words were cruelly flippant, but for a split-second I registered shock in his eyes.
“I was joking,” I said quickly. I rolled off him, lying on my back. “I mean, it was a terrible mistake, of course.”
“Of course,” he murmured.
“But if you’re going to make a fucking mistake, may as well make it a good one.”
He grabbed a tissue off the nightstand beside us and applied it to his stomach, then turned on his side to look at me. “That doesn’t sound like the Morgan I know. Did Lancelet’s spirit enter your body when she died?”
There was silence, then, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
I could hear the genuine regret in his voice. He thought he’d gone too far. But in a way it had been a relief to hear him say her name. I wanted to speak of Lancelet sometimes.
And he was the only person here who had even met her.
“No, it’s all right. I know what you mean.” I was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just changed.”
“Oh, you most definitely have.”
“In a good way?”
Now it was his turn to be silent. “I think so. But you’re the one who has to live with yourself. What do you think?”
