My fingertips slipped under the waist of his trousers. Heat swirled in my belly when I brushed over the taut crown of his length. I lifted my chin, taking note of the way Roark’s fist clenched when my fingers gently caressed back and forth.
One breath, another, and Roark readjusted on the sofa, helping me tug down his trousers. The ruddy length of his cock sprang free. I swiped my tongue over my lips, uncertain if I was bold enough.
I closed my eyes and sealed my lips around the tip.
A sort of rough cough broke from Roark’s chest. His hips bucked on instinct. With another groan, he let his head fall back, his fingers tangled in my hair, holding me in place when I took him in deeper.
I dragged my tongue along the underside of his length until he looked down at me with hooded eyes. Roark’s lips were parted; he was panting softly. What he did not speak with words, he said with touch. Every lick, every kiss, Roark would tighten his fingers in my hair, he would stroke his thumb across my cheek, my throat.
When he gently tapped my shoulder three times, then again, emotion knotted in my throat.Mine. He kept claiming me—Lyra—not the melder, but me.
And I wanted to claim him. Not the Sentry, not a brutal Draven, but Roark Ashwood.
The taste of his skin and musk pooled heat between my thighs. My tongue curled around the tip of his length. What I could not take in, I covered with my hand, stroking in tandem with my mouth.
One glance at the flush in his face, the way his body rocked with pleasure, and my core throbbed as I watched the desire written on his face. There was a wondrous power that came from knowing I brought those breaths from his lungs, that it was me he touched.
Roark thrust into my mouth deep enough I let out a strangled cough. He stilled, but I shook my head, gripping his thighs, a wordless command for him to never stop.
A moment longer and Roark frantically tapped my face, he tried to pull back.
I didn’t stop, not when his breaths were sharp and jagged. Not when he groaned and pressed his fists against his eyes, I wanted all of him and did not stop until his hot release was spent on my tongue.
When it ended, I pulled back, smiling and wiping my lips. Roark let his palms slide down his face, a heat to his skin. He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me over his exposed lap, kissing me, hard and deep.
“I want to—” Words were cut off by voices, laughter, and footsteps outside the door.
We froze for half a breath, then made quick work of untangling from each other. I shot to my feet. Roark refastened his belt and trousers, adjusted his tunic, and helped me with the sleeve of my dress.
He’d taken four swift paces away from me by the time a heavy knock pounded on the door and, without invitation, Kael strode inside.
“Oh, good. You’re back.” Kael looked between me and Roark, a glimmer of suspicion on his features. “I was going to wait for you. Emi asked me to help keep watch on the princess in the market. She thought you might want to join. If the Sentry agrees, of course.”
Roark was all warrior, all somber shadow once more.
“Princess Yrsa…wants me?”
Kael clasped his hands behind his back. “Seems most of the women are going to market today to commission gowns for the vow feast.”
“We just commissioned gowns not long ago.”
“Seems you get a gown for every occasion. I know little else except she thought you might want to join after dealing with that bastard Grisen. Apologies for my harsh words, Sentry Ashwood. But it’s true.”
“Oh.” I swallowed, forcing a smile, praying he could not see the flush to my face. “I, well, if it’s all right.”
I glanced to Roark, not truly asking his permission, more hoping we might find a way to continue whatever was happening here.
Kael’s smiled faded. “Well, it does come from the word of a princess, who you will likely be serving until we all have flesh sagging off our bones. Might be wise to befriend her early on.”
I knew the tone in Kael Darkwin’s voice. A tone he used often in the past whenever stable hands commented on my features, or if village boys tried to get me alone. Kael was always there with a warning in his eyes and threats at the ready should they be untoward in the slightest.
He was suspicious of us, protective of me, and now wary of a man he’d always respected.
Roark must’ve heard the same, since he moved for the door.Myrdan guards and Emi will be with you, I shall give you ladies time to yourselvesand go see to the prince.
I wanted to tell him not to go, but in the same breath, feared if he remained, the way I could not cease looking at him would make it quite clear to the entire palace what we’d done here.
With a slight nod at Kael, Roark quit the room.
