“Yes. I knew you would hate me as well if I succeeded, but… I didn’t think there was any other way you would survive the battle.”
“I doubt Iwouldhave survived if your general had come after me. He would havehelpedLesva.”
Vorik closed his eyes, hating to imagine that situation, but he agreed that it could have played out that way. It almost had.
“I think you’re right that I wouldhave resented you for kidnapping me. I probably would have railed at you and not understood your sacrifice.” Syla smiled wryly, her evocative lips drawing his eye. “I guess it’s a good thing we captured you instead.”
“Calling this situationgoodis overly optimistic, at least from my point of view, but if you don’t resent me, I am pleased about that.”
“I should, but I don’t. You saved my life, Vorik.”
Syla stepped forward and hugged him again. This time, instead of brushing her lips along his neck, she kissed him on the mouth. Hard.
Pleasure and arousal flared within him, and he tried to pull his wrists apart so that he could touch her. The chain linking his shackles clinked, restraining him. A burst of fury at being denied the ability to embrace her made him flex muscles enhanced by dragon magic, and he jerked his arms apart with a snapping of iron.
As Vorik succeeded in wrapping his arms around Syla and pulling her close, Fel swore and stepped forward, raising his mace.
Syla turned her mouth from Vorik and lifted a hand toward her bodyguard, even as she molded her body to Vorik’s. “It’s all right, Sergeant.”
“He snapped hischains,” Fel barked, his fist clenched around the haft of his mace. Before, he hadn’t looked like he wanted to brain Vorik, but he seemed to be reevaluating that.
“It’s his dragon magic,” Syla explained.
“He’s nothuman.”
“He’s amazing.” Syla turned her mouth back to Vorik, and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his.Shewas amazing. And he wanted her.
Fel groaned with disgust.
Vorik didn’t care. With his wrists free, he had no trouble lowering his arms and cupping her ass, pulling Syla tightly against him. Maybe he should have been worried about Fel, but all he could think about was the heat of her body, the adoration in her eyes when she looked at him, and the fiery passion in her kiss. If he had to be a prisoner, Vorik could think of no captor he’d want more.
And by all the gods, he wanted her. As he deepened his kiss, tongue sliding between her eager lips, he slid his hands along her body, relishing in her full curves, growing harder as she pressed into him. The chains clanked, but he scarcely noticed, other than to make sure he didn’t let them hit her. Though she might not have noticed. She moaned hungrily as their tongues stroked each other, and her hands slid over Vorik’s shoulders and chest.
“Queen Syla,” Fel whispered, his back to them as he pointedly looked at the door. “This isn’t appropriate.Heisn’t appropriate.”
“Send your bodyguard away,” Vorik said against her mouth. “I want you.”
“Prisoners don’t get what they want,” she whispered even as she rubbed against him, pushing against his cock, making him harder by the second.
“Captors do. And you want me too.” Vorik crushed his mouth against hers, stealing further words, but she moaned what could only be agreement.
A knock sounded at the door before she could send away the bodyguard.
At first, Syla ignored it, and Vorik stroked and kissed her in approval, but it came again. Insistent.
“Your Majesty?” someone called from the corridor. “There’s a wounded soldier badly in need of your gift, and others who aren’t doing that well either. The temple healer asked if we could get you to help.”
Syla drew back. Vorik didn’t want to release her—his penisespeciallydidn’t want him to release her—but he knew that her duty would call her away from her own pleasure. He had some small satisfaction in seeing her panting from their exertions, her spectacles drooping down her nose. Gods, when had he started to find that sight so arousing?
“All right,” she said, her voice raspy before she cleared her throat, her gaze still locked on Vorik. She swallowed and managed a louder, “All right,” that the man might hear through the door, then nodded toward Fel.
With palpable relief, he sprang to open the door and step out of the cell.
“I don’t think your bodyguard enjoys our encounters as much as I do,” Vorik murmured softly enough that those in the corridor wouldn’t hear.
“Strange.”
As Syla stepped toward the door, it occurred to him that he hadn’t asked her what Wreylith’s favorite foods were.
