He pulled off with a gasp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
For a few moments, the only sound was the engine.
Then Thane muttered, voice dark and almost fond, “You still haven’t learned to control yourself.”
Riven leaned back into his seat, smirking as he wiped the spit off his chin.
“You started it.”
Chapter 32
The estate was dark when they returned. Not quiet—House Virellien never truly slept—but the lights had dimmed, the hallways emptied of the usual bustle. It should have been a relief.
Instead, Riven could still feel Thane’s come drying on his tongue.
He hadn’t even hesitated. That was the worst part. One cock out and a sharp command and he’d been down on his knees like he was starving for it.
Which he was.
And that was exactly the problem.
He ran a hand through his hair as they passed the foyer, already mentally kicking himself.You’re not supposed to want this. You’re not supposed to want him.
The Matriarch was waiting.
Or rather, waiting forThane. They were barely halfway to the upper floor when a messenger intercepted them—slim elf in a pressed suit, eyes flicking to Riven like he was a smudge on glass.
“Lord Thane,” he said crisply, “the Matriarch wants your report. She says to come directly. Alone.”
Thane’s jaw flexed. “Did she say why?”
“No.”Thane looked like he wanted to argue—but didn’t. His gaze flicked to Riven. “Stay here.”
Riven gave him a mock salute. “Gladly.”
Thane lingered one more beat, then turned and stalked off, coat sweeping behind him like a stormcloud.
Riven watched him go. The heavy Virellien doors closed behind Thane with an audiblethud.
Finally. A breath of peace.
It lasted all of twenty seconds.
“Riiiivennnnn,” came a too-familiar voice. “Is it true you got to meet our dear Lord Sorrell?”
Riven groaned. “Don’t you two have better things to do?”
Cassian and Luca flanked him like wolves. Luca looked fresh from a shower, curls damp and defined, a towel still slung around his neck. Cassian wore all black, as usual, his gold eyes glinting with mischief.
“We’re very invested in diplomatic affairs,” Cassian said solemnly, “especially when they involve magically erect strippers.”
Luca grinned. “Did you get a turn? Or was it strictly Sorrell’s show?”
Riven rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite hide the heat that flushed his face. “He orderedentertainment. Thane was not thrilled.”
“Ibethe wasn’t,” Luca muttered. “So? What did he do, grit his teeth while Sorrell got railed six feet away?”
“Basically.”
