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I jolted again, and this time it had nothing to do with Claude’s touch. My eyes narrowed on the Hyhborn prince, but he didn’t see. How could he when his attention was fixed to the Baron’s hand and my breast?
“Especially her.” Claude’s cool, damp lips pressed against the side of my neck. “She is the most valuable of all.”
My brows shot up.
Prince Thorne lowered his whiskey as his gaze lifted to Claude’s. “I do believe that is something we can agree on.”
I stiffened. “I am sitting— ” My breath caught as Claude rolled the sensitive peak of my breast with his fingers. My grip tightened on the flute stem as the flames above the candles flickered once more.
“You were saying?” Prince Thorne questioned, one side of his lips curving up.
“I was saying, I’m sitting right here.” I ignored Claude’s hand as it trailed back down my stomach— ignored the Prince’s heated gaze that followed, and that heightened, dual sensation of hot and cold. “In case you two have forgotten.”
“Trust me,” Prince Thorne drawled, leaning back. The stars were even brighter in his eyes. “Neither of us has forgotten.”
“That is the second thing we can both agree on.” Claude drew his fingers down, past my navel and between my thighs, his hand further widening the gap in the panels.
“I’m glad to hear that you two have discovered something to bond over,” I said, lifting my chin. “I hope I can provide a third thing.”
“And what is that?” Claude asked, retrieving his glass.
“I am not a possession.” I waited till the Prince’s gaze returned to mine. “I am owned by no one.”
“Agreed,” Claude murmured, his fingers pressing into the skin of my inner thigh, drawing my leg a few inches to the side until there was no doubt that the Prince could see the scant black lace between my thighs.
Prince Thorne’s gaze hadn’t missed a second, and I thought that . . . that his lips had parted just the slightest as he seemed to soak in what the Baron had revealed to him— purposely revealed. My skin flushed hot beneath his stare, but not with shame. A part of me thought that maybe I should be embarrassed. That if I wasgood,I should put a stop to whatever it was that Claude was currently up to, because I was really beginning to wonder exactlyhowdrunk Claude truly was.
He was either far more intoxicated than I suspected, or he was handling his drink better than I believed, because his actions and words had become entirely precise and clear.
The Baron was often playful, especially when he drank, even with me when it led nowhere, but I was beginning to think I’d been wrong about Claude being unaware of what the Prince was paying such close attention to. There was a taunting edge to Claude’s actions now. As if it was not his own desire that drove him, but what he saw in the Prince’s stare.
But I made no move to stop Claude. I couldn’t . . . or I didn’t want to as the Prince watched, as heat in my skin flooded my veins. And maybe I had drunk more champagne than I had thought, because I was suddenly emboldened.
“How about you, Your Grace?” I challenged. “Do you agree?”
The dancing flames cast interesting shadows across his features. “I would, except that would be a lie.”
“How— ” An unsteady rush of air left me as Claude’s hand folded over me. A sharp twist of pleasure followed. “How so?”
“No one in the Kingdom of Caelum is truly free.” He watched as Claude’s hand moved. “All are owned by the King.”
Claude chuckled. “He has a point there, pet.”
The Prince did, but I said nothing. My pulse was thundering. I felt a little dazed and maybe a bit crazed. I wasn’t sure how we’d gone from talk of an impending siege to this. I didn’t think it was even possible to figure out.
“I have another question for you,” Prince Thorne said. “When you were at the University in Urbane, did you spend any time at the Royal Court?”
“I did.”
“And what did you think of it?”
“It was an . . . experience,” Claude said. “Partly as I expected.”
“Partly?”
I was curious to hear the Baron elaborate. I hadn’t known he’d been at the King’s Court. Only thecaelestiasand a few aristo entered the Hyhborn Courts— well, them and those the Hyhborncollected.But I was finding it difficult to listen. I was now watching the Prince as avidly as he watched the Baron’s hand. His fingers traced the rim of his glass in nearly perfect synchrony with the ones between my thighs, and it was far, far too easy to imagine it was his fingers I felt.
My hips twisted restlessly as I focused on the Prince’s fingers, my breathing quickening. Could the Baron feel the rush of damp heat through the silky undergarment? Did he believe it was my body responding to his touches, or . . . ? I shifted in the Baron’s lap, chest rising sharply as he pressed into the lacy undergarment, but I . . . I didn’t feelhimbeneath me.
