Still buried deep inside me, Daegel lifts himself up, sits on his heels, and pulls me onto his lap. This new angle hits just the right spot. My moans grow louder, I can’t keep quiet, and my body starts to tremble.
When Daegel thrusts into me once more, his thumb brushing over my swollen clit, I burst. My whole body tenses as I reach the crescendo of my pleasure and then trembles uncontrollably as I come crashing down.
Two more thrusts, and Daegel joins me. He fills me up with a groan and then falls forward, crushing me with his weight once again.
We lie like this, our bodies tangled, breathing heavily for a while. Daegel nests his head into the nook of my neck and whispers, “I willalwayswant you, princess.”
“I will always want you, too,” I whisper.
Just when I start to drift away, his voice snaps me back to present. “What did the General want with you earlier?”
My eyes are heavy with sleep. I can’t even peel them open. But the corners of my lips twitch upwards as I remember the mentorship offer.
“He offered his mentorship to me,” I say, sleepily. A giggle escapes me. “And he promised to help me become strong enough to collect the blood debt King Francis owes me.”
There’s a long pause. It stretches, and I can’t fight the sleep anymore. I don’t know what his answer to my news is, because the sweet sleep wins the battle and drags me under.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JAX
I tug at the golden tip of my white tunic. The sleeves are too short.
It’s uncomfortable.
Also, extremely inconvenient for hiding stuff up the sleeve.
I’ll have to be extra careful when extracting the driedJinflower that’s safely tucked inside of my too-short sleeve.
Shit.
“Ey, boy,” the man who runs this establishment says and points his finger at me.
He wears the same tunic I and the other staff members do. But his is bloodred instead of white.
Which makes the golden dragon weaving on his back look much more regal.
Bloodred would look so much better on me than white.
“Why are you standing there here? You are supposed to be behind the bar! Mixing the drinks!”
“I was just fixing my uniform, sir,” I say.
I flex my sweaty palms.
“It looks fine,” the fae grunts. “Go behind the bar! Those drinks won’t mix themselves!”
I lightly dip my chin and hurry past the manager into the main space of the Golden Dragon.
Quickly, I duck under the counter and get inside the bar. One of the three stations is empty, so I settle there.
The other young fae already working don’t even lift their heads to look at me.
Good, good. If they’re not paying attention, then they don’t see shit.
In front of us, a large table is set up in the middle of the dimly lit room. It’s full of food, from seared asparagus to walnut-stuffed plums and sticky quinoa pudding.
Over a dozen fae occupy the table, taking up every seat. Each of them wears a regal silk tunic the color of their family, their hair tied in elaborate buns and braids decorated with gold brooches shaped like their family crests.
