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“Was this the throne of King Mallex the Wrong?” I ask, desperate to think about something, anything else.
“It was.”
“Would it have been yours?”
Rook’s boots rap on the floor as he walks over. “Have you heard the prophecy?”
“No.”
“The Gray Prince will sit on the ruined throne.”
I shake my head. “What does it mean?”
“That I will take back the kingdom from Queen Dulcamara, avenge my father’s death, and return this castle to its former glory. But it’s mostly bullshit.”
“Mostly?”
He grunts. “I’m a half-incubus bastard, unable to father an heir. I’m no king.”
Gripped by an impulse, I sit on the throne. The cold black rock chills my bare legs. Shivering, I grip the carved arms. Rook drops to one knee, takes my hand, and brings it to his lips. When he kisses my hand, a gasp snags in my throat.
“You must be disappointed by me,” he says.
“I am.”
“Regardless, I offer myself to you.”
I lean back on the throne. “Be more specific.”
“My sword to protect you.” He lifts his head, his eyes burning with demonic light. “My cock to please you.”
My thighs clench against the stone. Desire smolders within me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I cross my legs and deign to grant him an icy stare.
“Tell me,” I say. “You would be my knight and concubine?”
“I’m no knight.” He raises an eyebrow. “And my mother was a concubine. I’m merely a monster hunter with a talent for fucking.”
I tilt my head and stare down at him, kneeling before me in his armor. “You expect me to fuck a man who’s too afraid to claim me?”
“I have already claimed you.”
I laugh mockingly. “No, you haven’t.” It’s easiest to be cruel to him.
“I captured you. Stole you from your cave and took your virginity from you. Devoured your lust and filled you until my seed dripped down your thighs.” His words paint a sinful picture, his voice smoky with desire. “You aremine.”
His words steal my breath away. I’m riveted by the possibility that I’m already his. He hasn’t followed the rules of dragon courtship, but he has claimed me in his own demonic way. I’ve surrendered my body to the incubus, even if he’s unwilling to claim my heart.
He dares to approach me as I sit on the throne. He places his hands inside my knees and nudges them apart. I’m wearing only his borrowed shirt, and I’m now exposed to him.
“Let me lick you,” he says.
My eyes fly all the way open. “Where?” Even though I know damn well what he wants to stroke with his tongue.
He glances into my eyes. “I can show you, if you consent.”
Half of me wants to reject him, just out of spite, but the other half of me has already plunged straight into lust.
“Go ahead,” I say, beckoning him with an imperious wave of my hand.
