Chapter eleven
Dyfri
Jack’s snoring is the most annoying sound in the world, I swear. Granted, I’ve never shared a bed for sleeping before, but surely people are not usually so very…There.Most people do not take up so much damn room with their sheer presence.
He is behind me, yet my awareness is fully consumed by him. It’s absurd, and it needs to stop. Thankfully, it is nearly dawn, and the torment is nearly over.
But then there will be yet another day to survive. And then another night. While surrounded by enemies and breathing in the foul-tasting air of this world.
Enduring a marriage I never planned for, because I was force to face another duel. A wave of coldness washes over me, threating to unleash carefully buried memories.
I’m not thinking about that. Now or ever. It’s done, and I’ve adapted my plans. There is absolutely no need to dwell and I refuse to do so, and no one and nothing is going to make me.
I scrunch my eyes up tight and try to compose myself. I’m being unreasonably ill-tempered, even for me. Probably because the events of last night have rattled me more than I care to admit.
I should have known that my first court function as a consort and no longer a rhocyn would be nothing to celebrate. I can’t believe I was foolish enough to be excited about it. And it was pointless to be so dismayed when it all came crashing down.
The court was never going to allow me to forget. They were never going to treat me differently. My hair may be bound now, but it will forever be loose in their eyes.
And that’s not the only thing I’m being ridiculous about. Because I know damn well that my past as a rhocyn was not a secret that could be kept from Jack forever. In fact, it was a miracle that there was ever a time he didn’t know. His advisers must have been aware. His father must have been informed.
Why they didn’t tell him, I don’t know. But it was… nice. An unexpected treat. One I had enjoyed. Far more than I should have.
But it’s over. He knows. And I hate it. And hate that I hate it. I shouldn’t care. I should be above such things.
I let out a little sigh.
At least he took the news surprisingly well. And the way he defended me like that was… quite something. I’m sure it was all to do with his own honour, pride and standing. Even though my stupid feelings are refusing to listen to that logic.
I shift position a little. This damn bed is lumpy, and the sheets are scratchy cotton. I’m sure Jack can afford silk, I have no idea why he likes to torture himself like this.
I roll onto my back and glare up at the ceiling. There is no point in continuing to deny it. My stupid cock is hard, and that is why I am in such a mood.
Beside me, Jack stirs. I want to ignore him, but he is right there, and long-ingrained habits are forcing me to watch the potential threat.
His hair is a mess. All sleep-tangled. He opens his eyes and blinks blearily at me. Then he has the audacity to smile. A great, big, stupid smile. A smile like sunshine and kindness.
I snatch my gaze away, roll over and give him my back. I can’t cope with niceness first thing in the morning. It is too unfamiliar and far too much.
“Oh, do you need a hand?” Jack asks gently with a sleep-roughened voice.
My shoulders stiffen. How does he know? Am I that obvious?
I nod. I can’t bring myself to say it. There is no other cure for my predicament, so I might as well get it over with.
I keep my back to him, but yank my nightgown up.
He fiddles with his bedside drawer for a moment, then he slides up to me with an agility that seems to defy his size. He pauses, and I grind my teeth. Please don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk. I just want it done.
His hand wraps carefully around my cock, and all the air leaves my lungs. An exhale of relief.
His palm glides along my length, slick with oil. That is thoughtful of him.
I scrunch my eyes up tight and try to send my mind far away but something about the slow, careful way he is touching me is keeping me anchored.
I like the way it feels.
I like the way his huge body feels like a shield protecting my back and nota threat.
