She had just found her rhythm atop him when her stomach growled loudly, and Nadir’s hand loosed on her neck.
"Famished?" he jeered.
Her stomach growled again, and she cursed her body for its sudden desperation for nutrients. "Starving, actually."
He chuckled under his breath as he squeezed her ass again. “I can’t have my filthy girl starving.” He picked her up by her cheeks, spread her ass, and sat her on his thighs, sitting up himself. A quick kiss was placed on her lips, and he smiled against her mouth.
“We can finish this later,” he said.
“Promise?”
He huffed again. “Princess, you can use me for anything you want the rest of the day.”
She grinned as she kissed him again, resisting sitting on his stiffened cock between them. Her stomach growling reminded her she did not need to exert that energy again until she had nutrients, and she rolled off him before she could ignore her own greed.
"Are great Commanders of the Honest army particular about the breakfasts they eat?" she asked once she was dressed.
Nadir pressed his hand behind his head, gazing down his nose at her from the pillows. "Firstly, there is only one Commander, and that is me," he argued. "And secondly, you can bring back whateveryouwant to eat, Princess. I'll be feasting on the taste of the strawberries and the wine you had last night after you're done."
She fought the smirk on her lips and shook her head at his grin. "I'll be back."
Part Four
The Grand Gathering Meeting
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DORIAN WOKE IN a haze. His head was throbbing from the consumption of wine the night before. It was barely sunrise, but his stomach was growling loudly, and he had drunk all his water.
Corbin was lying in the bed next to him, a sheet sprawled over his bare backside. Dorian stifled his lust as he finally glimpsed the Belwark in the vulnerable state he’d been fantasizing about, and he stood from the bed.
One look in the mirror at the hickey on his collar and his red knuckles told him the night had been explosive. He glanced back to Corbin and noticed his swollen lip and the cut on his cheek.
The fight hadn’t been a dream.
He shrugged on pants as Corbin stirred, nearly crawling back into the bed with him when his sleepy eyes opened. Dorian forced his gaze down to the strings on his pants.
“Good morning, Prince,”came Corbin’s hazy drawl. His voice was such a throaty rasp that it was barely louder than a whisper, and it contained a heated restriction that made Dorian’s ears perk.
Dorian stilled, raising a brow up at Corbin at the words. But as much as he wanted to go stuff his cock down the Belwark’s throat and make him regret saying that, Dorian pulled his shirt on.
“What do you have for me today?” Corbin yawned.
“The meeting is in a few hours,” Dorian said as he tied his boots. “Would you like food for breakfast or my cock?” he said, straightening up.
Corbin adjusted himself, but didn’t reply, and Dorian stared stiffly at him a moment.
“Was that an answer?” Dorian asked.
But Corbin shuffled to his feet, put on his pants and then went to stand in front of Dorian’s paralyzed figure. He patted Dorian’s cheek harshly.
“I have to move my things, Prince,” he said, and Corbin left the room without another word.
Dorian didn’t move for another minute, still reeling in confusion with every word and touch from the Belwark.
“Find me later if you want the rest of your face reconstructed,” Dorian practically shouted down the hall upon collecting himself.
There was no response, and Dorian cursed at the sky, grabbed his robe, and headed towards the kitchens in a haze.
