Rapunzel speaks no lie. We do misbehave, but she doesn’t seem to mind…especially not when she’s the recipient of our depraved behavior. But what Emma fails to realize is that her deceptively gentle friend is as wicked as we are.
Once Emma is far enough away and the men have dispersed, it’s just the four of us on the lists. Rapunzel rushes to Quinn to inspect his bleeding body.
Tsking, she traces her elegant fingers along each healing wound. “Why do you allow them to hurt you?”
His dark eyes spark with malicious delight. “You, of all people, know I enjoy the pain.”
Rapunzel’s cheeks flush, and I can practically hear her thoughts. Quinn certainly does like his pleasure laced with a healthy dose of torture. Makes me wonder if he always had this inclination or if it came after he bartered away his soul. She slides her hands down his arms, then intertwines her fingers with his. “If I can’t be needlessly reckless with my body, neither can you.”
“It’s not at all the same,” he growls.
I come up behind her and rest my hands on the curve of her hips. She exhales on a slow breath when I press my lips to her racing pulse below her ear. “I speak for us all, Your Highness, when I offer a humble apology for injuring poor, defenseless Quinn.”
“Cease goading him,” she scolds me. Then, “And spare me your false humility. I know you too well, Wren Kincaid. There isn’t a humble bone in your arrogant body.”
“They’re safe from my wrath. For now.” Quinn drags his tongue along her lower lip. “I’d much rather spend the rest of the afternoon finding creative ways to atone for worrying you.”
Our usual discretion be damned. The courtyard is deserted, and Rapunzel is too delectable of a temptation to resist.
“I’d love to see you try.” Rapunzel molds her back to my chest, arching her spine just enough to cause her breasts to strain against the coarse material of her shirt. Quinn seizes the moment and rubs the pad of his thumb over her erect nipple. She rests her head against my shoulder. “You scoundrels are too crafty for your own good.”
“We are indeed.” Dax comes up beside her, the cut bleeding down his hand. He grips her chin with his wet fingers and forces her to turn toward him, an arrogant, crooked grin tugging at his mouth. “And tonight, when my cock hits the back of your throat, you’ll show us how devious you are as well, Little Captive.”
She snakes an arm around Dax’s waist to tug him closer. “Don’t I always?”
Watching Dax tease her, mouth open in a fevered kiss, sends a rush of blood straight to my cock. Their tongues glide as he moves his other hand between her legs. Her whimper mingles with Quinn’s guttural growl. And when I trace my fingers up along her ribcage, she gasps into Dax’s mouth and presses into my touch. Quinn torments the hard peaks of her breasts, barely hidden by her flowing shirt, while I stroke her sides. I run my hands up her spine then trail a single finger down until I reach her ass, where I travel farther still, low enough to hear her gasp into Dax’s kiss.
“I can smell your desire, Princess.” Quinn rasps that in her ear. “Tonight, I intend to taste it.”
Unfortunately, we’re forced to break apart when Emma throws open the door of the keep. Sewing kit in hand, she calls for Dax. Rapunzel wipes his blood from her chin with a trembling hand, then drags in a ragged breath and backs away. She adjusts her shirt. Grabs her long, golden braid and pulls it over her shoulder to smooth a hand over the twisted waves. All the while, a sly little grin curls her lips. And once we join Emma in the hall, the commanding woman sits Dax in front of the hearth, she cleans the wound before sewing his injury closed.
Throughout the ordeal, Rapunzel refuses to leave Dax’s side while Quinn and I see what monstrosity is brewing in the kitchen. One drawback of training Rapunzel to fight is that she no longer has time to help with the meals. We’re back to suffering Bryce’s sad offerings. But it’s a pittance we’re willing to pay to ensure she’ll be at least somewhat prepared when she faces her father.
Once he’s dead and Rapunzel takes her rightful place on Rygard’s throne, she’ll return peace to this kingdom. That’s the goal we’re working toward. What goes unsaid between us is that we’re living on borrowed time with her. Every moment spent with her is precious because this—thisis the quiet before the storm.
ChapterThree
This storm is relentless.
Rain has battered our rugged peninsula for the better part of last night and throughout the morning. With the courtyard sodden and Emma and Bryce busy in the kitchen, Rapunzel was of a mind to join them.
Not on my watch.
I have other plans for our lovely, golden-haired lady.
Didn’t take much to convince Rapunzel I needed her elsewhere.
My bed was lonely without her—and God has yet to create a prettier sight than this woman lying naked with those thick waves spread out around her.
Although confident by nature, I find myself ten thumbs and two left feet when it’s the two of us. Everything about this woman robs me of the arrogance gained from surviving countless battles and many dalliances with nameless and faceless women. From the sparkle of mischief in her brilliant green eyes, right down to the adorable toes of her tiny feet, her lithe body is made to worship. And with Quinn and Wren suffering the elements while tending to the horses in the stables, she and I have the morning to ourselves.
Rarely are we alone, and when she reaches her arms out to me, beckoning me, I’m suddenly a nervous boy fumbling with the laces of my breeches. I kick off my boots before dragging my pants down my legs. Then I push Emma’s mending skills to its limit by practically ripping off my shirt.
Her tender expression warms me more than the fire blazing in the hearth. “Clothing is a crime on you, Dax Stafford.”
“Odd.” I take her hand and twine my fingers around hers after I climb on the bed. “Here I am thinking the same of you, Little Captive.”
She may no longer be Wren’s hostage, but I haven’t stopped calling her by the name I gave her after he took her from the tower. “Good thing we seldom wear them when we’re alone.”
