Ivo’s needy groan was like a glass of ice water. Vitki suddenly remembered where he was and whom he was with. Growling soft and low in his throat, Vitki dragged his mouth away. Ivo’s lips were swollen and red, his pupils blown, his skin flushed with arousal. He had never looked sexier.
“I cannot do this,” he whispered. No matter how strong the desire in his body was, he couldn’t do this to Ivo. The man deserved to have the world at his feet. If Vitki continued on this course, he would take all of that away from Ivo.
“Vitki, what—”
Vitki moved back and stood when Ivo reached for him. He shook his head. “I cannot do this.” Vitki felt as if his heart were being ripped from his chest as he backed up to the door. “Yuval will be outside your door if you need anything.”
It took more strength than Vitki knew he had in him to turn away from Ivo and walk out the door. The hurt he had seen on Ivo’s face gutted him more than any executioner’s axe ever could. Knowing he was the cause of that pain nearly did him in. Vitki felt like an empty husk as he headed for the door of the main chambers.
Yuval, as expected, stood right outside. “Sir?”
“Ivo is finally sleeping. Make sure no one disturbs him until morning. He’s had a rough couple of days, and he needs some rest before he goes before the assembly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will be in my chambers if you need me.”
“Of course, sir.”
Vitki’s posture was rigid as he walked down the corridor. He was fighting with everything in him to keep walking away and not turn and run back to Ivo…back to his heart.
