I can see the door to my suite up ahead. I could cry with relief when I suddenly feel a tight grip on my arm, making me skid to a halt. The hand twists my arm and I spin, colliding with a hard chest. A surprised squeak escapes my lips.
Prince Kiernan.
I look up into his deep green eyes, his face tight with tension. I almost lose myself staring at him. Then my anger flares. I shrug from his grip, bring both hands up to his chest, and push with all my weight. He staggers back, surprise flashing across his face.
“You bastard. Leave me alone!” I scream, turning back towards my suite.
“Alaya.” I hear him call, and before I can reach the door, he’s passed me. He blocks my way.
“Just let me pass.” I try to push him out of the way but he’s solid and unyielding.
“Calm down, Alaya. Let me explain.”
“Why? Apparently, I’ve been ‘brought to heel’ like a good little girl. What is there to explain?”
He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in a mess. I groan inwardly. How can he look so damn handsome when I’m this furious with him?
“I tried to tell you. We agreed, Alaya—we said we’d pretend in front of him. He wouldn’t have expected less from me. He was barely keeping his rage in check tonight, as I’m sure you noticed.”
“So making me look like a biddable child in front of him, laughing at me—that was the plan?” Each word comes out sharper than the last, my voice rising.
“Yes.” He keeps his tone measured, steady. Takes a careful step closer. “He needs to see you as no threat to his plans, whatever they are. If he believes you’re compliant, the less his attention falls upon you.”
I turn away from him, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. The logic is there—I can see it, understand it even—but my chest still burns with humiliation.
It’s too much.
The chaos of emotions warring in my head roars with fury, snapping and cracking like breaking twigs.
“I can’t do this. I can’t pretend so easily. This place, this situation—the more I’m asked to be less of myself, the less I’m able to hold on to who I am. I can’t lose that. I won’t. Then what would I be? A puppet to be used and discarded?”
I take a shaking breath and let out a cry of frustration.
So quickly I barely register it, he grabs me by the shoulders and spins me away from the door. My back slams into the cold stone. His hard body presses into me, his chest rising and falling erratically against my own. I feel his shallow breathing across my face as his head bows, his forehead meeting mine.
“You are so fucking irritating.” His voice is husky.
“And I suppose you’re going to teach me a lesson?” I spit back at him, my anger swirling with the rising heat I’m starting to feel at his closeness.
A deep, primal groan escapes his lips. His green eyes flash with something I can’t name.
“For the love of the Gods, shut up.”
The kiss is wild and raw, his lips strong and possessive. There’s no negotiation, no finesse. It’s urgent, open heat—not soft and seeking but demanding and absolute.
His breath comes in short, ragged gasps against my swelling lips as his body presses into mine. I feel his leg push between my thighs.
A hand slides up into my hair, his fingers knotting in my curls. He tips my head back and deepens the kiss. A sudden jolt runs through me, drops into my belly and swells like a just-lit fire. The heat radiates towards my chest and deeper into the depths of me.
His lips are insistent and searching. When I let out a small gasp as the flames surge into my chest, his tongue pushes past. My whole body ignites. I give in to his frantic need, pushing back into his pressure, my tongue searching his. My hands come up, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Needing him closer.
“Oh Gods. Youdotaste like sunlight” He takes a quick, shaking breath and his words vibrate on my lips. His other hand snakes down my waist, his grip tight with need. It drops further, cupping my rear. His hand glides down, fingers splaying down the curve to my thigh, pulling my hips into his. I can feel him then—the long, hard length of his erection straining at his trousers, rubbing through my dress, searching for me.
The hand in my hair comes down to trace my cheek and continues to my neck. I feel his thumb caressing the hollow of my throat, right where he nicked me with the sword and drew blood. His fingers curl lightly around my neck. He plunges deeper into my mouth again—a primal staking of claim.
Like a backdraft, the heat of my fire suddenly erupts down between my thighs. I shudder as flames lick my core, dance over the most sensitive parts of me and probe inside, wet and slick with wanting him.
“Kiernan.” I moan into him, my legs shaking and buckling with the intense feeling sweeping my entire body.
