His lips curve on one side. “We can celebrate the night.”
I will make it good for you.He adds the last part in my head, lacing his tone with seduction. It goes straight to my pussy, my heart pounding. Am I approaching my mating cycle, or am I that pathetic?
“Are you invoking the bargain?” I ask, wondering if it is dread or anticipation settling in my stomach.
“If you are into that kind of thing.” He winks, effortlessly pulling off the cliché move.I plan to entertain all of your indecent fantasies,he adds in my mind.
“Is that Simon why you left my court a day before Samira’s mating ceremony?” A new voice joins us by the fire, ending the barter. “To fool around with a mongrel?”
Jestin and his terrible timing. Of course, he appears the moment I look the worst.
I knew that shallow hole in sand was nothing but an open invitation, making it far too easy for Jestin and his warriors to sneak up on us.
Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have noticed a Hermitage anyway, especially if they’d wanted to remain unseen.
I twist on the sandy ground to face the newcomers, my hands brushing the grains for balance.
The lord of Santorili wears an elegant royal blue coat, accentuating his equally perfect form. He is surrounded by his special army of Hermitage Warriors, who are barely visible in the dark, even when he has already announced their presence.
“Jestin,” I say dryly. It’s as much of a greeting as I can muster at this moment.
He studies the Simon before speaking, eyes raking over him like a verdict of disapproval. “Be warned, she’s not the stay-for-breakfast type.”
Shame burns my cheeks like a stove.
I haven’t seen him since I ran, since that night when I almost said: ‘I want only you.’
Sex with Jestin was like coming home after a decades-long war, but I don’t have a home anymore.
No wonder I fled... Those kinds of feelings can leave a female confused.
“With you, maybe. I have enough in my…” Aidon offers me a cocky grin before continuing, “pants… to keep the girl’s head occupied at least till supper.”
I burst out laughing, and Aidon winks again.
I’m impressed. Most Fae would be on their knees with an army of Hermitage Warriors aimed at them. Iron surrounds us, yet he makes fun of the lord.
“You don’t look the part,” Jestin assesses him from top to bottom with a cruel condescension.
Aidon shrugs, unmoved.
“What can I say? I am far more entertaining, Sunny Boy.”
A chuckle escapes my lips before I can stop myself.
“I don’t think the lady agrees.”
Jestin steps closer to the fire, the light catching in his messy sandy-brown hair, glinting over sharp features and lips so full and tempting it should be a crime. Ink curls down his neck, and silver gleams at his ears. He’s a fucking vision. He always has been.
While I am fighting to regain my dignity, Aidon leads a staring battle with Jestin.
It feels like an eternity before the Simon’s face changes into a cruel smirk, and Jestin raises an eyebrow, daring Aidon to do something. To do what?
Gods only know.
“Oh wow, you two have quite the history,” Aidon finally breaks the tense silence. The mockery in his voice is effortless, but the scarlet in his eyes is telling a different story.
“Hard to compete?” Jestin retorts, mirroring his energy.
