She was curious as to what end she could bring the Prince and if he could live up to all the talk and smugness that he constantly paraded on his shoulders.
Bala laughed at herself as she knocked on Dorian’s door.
She had two rules that night. The first was that Draven could not find out about this. He would give her such a hard time for it, and she would never live it down. And her second rule was that she would not let Dorian kiss her. She would not give him that power.
The door swung open with a start, as though he’d been waiting on the other side of it in the hour it took her to leave him, go to the room she was staying in, and then go find his—which he had pointed out to her earlier when they were walking down to the balcony.
Because, of course, he had.
She was surprised he didn’t just suggest they smoke in his room.
An arrogant smile twisted on Dorian’s annoyingly handsome face when he saw that it was her. “Well, well…” His arms crossed over his chest, and he leaned sideways against the doorframe, leer and fire rising in his dilated eyes. “Something on your mind, my King?” Dorian teased, a single brow arching that told Bala he was enjoying her standing there far too much for his oversized ego to withstand.
Bala scoffed, unable to keep a straight face. “You are the smuggest little shit I’ve ever met,” she almost smiled.
“And yet… you’re standing in front of my door,” he replied with a tilt of his head.
Bala shoved him into the room with a forceful push on his face, and Dorian stumbled backward. He grabbed the chair to steady himself as Bala slammed the door. But just as she opened her mouth to tell him her rules, he launched forward and grabbed her up into his arms, broad hands spreading on her ass and hauling her legs around his waist.
He leaned in, nearly capturing her lips, but she shoved his face away again to stop him. “I have rules, little Prince,” she said sternly, pulling her chin up.
Dorian groaned as though the suggestion made him weak. His hands tightened around her ass, and he kissed her palm. “Would you like me on my knees for this?” And his tone was nearly a plea. “Perhaps restrained?”
Bala almost laughed. “You’re so eager to please,” she teased.
His eyes caught hers, darkened and dangerous—a desire in them that made her push her hips against his and tighten her thighs around his waist.
“You’ve no idea,” he breathed.
She moved her fingers from his face to beneath his jaw and tilted his head back. “Set me on the back of this chair and show me what you have for me,” she told him.
After setting her on the edge of the chaise lounge back, Dorian moved to his wardrobe, and he pulled a box from the bottom. She could see the delight in his pupils upon his approach, and she deliberately crossed her right leg over her left, palms pressing into the chair.
He sat the box on the ground and knelt with it. But even as he seemed to be submitting to her there, she saw a smile lift his lips, and his chin rose smugly when he opened the box.
Bala had to stifle her amusement and how impressed she was upon seeing all the leather braces and shackles inside.
He had abox.
And he was so happy about it.
“I wasn’t aware you were an exhibitionist in the bedroom as well, Prince,” she said. “Though it shouldn’t surprise me.”
“You should know,” he began as he pulled the chains and leathers from inside. “Sometimes, when I’m restrained, my form tries to surface.”
Bala stared, unable to blink as she remembered how Rhaif had once come into the Venari realm in his form with fire in his eyes and blackened hands.
“What?” she managed.
But Dorian shook his head as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Don’t worry. I can control it well. I just thought you should know in case….”
“In case what?”
“In case it wants to play.”
There was amusement in his eyes when he looked up, and Bala realized he was fucking with her.
“I cannot wait to see you crawl across this floor and kiss my feet,” she said in a teasing, promising tone.
