But I wasn’t ready.
He speared two fingers down, pressing one on either side of my clit but not touching it directly. Touching me, yes, but still denying me what I wanted where I truly wanted it. I squirmed, working my hips from side to side to try to get the pressure I needed.
A cool breeze skittered across my bare stomach, summoning goosebumps all over my skin. Garrick must have opened the window.
He squeezed his fingers together, pinching my clit between them. I lost all ability to think, the dark world behind my closed eyes exploding in bright lights. The rhythm of his touch changed, suddenly fervent and harsh and intensely erotic. He pinched my clit again, then swiped the broad pad of his thumb over it, the contrast between sharp pain and soft pressure too pleasurable to explain or comprehend.
All he had to do was slide a finger inside of me and I’d come apart?—
He stroked a long finger inside of me in a single fluid motion. He’d read my thoughts or he knew me too well… it did not matter. He curled his fingertip, scraped it over the internal cluster of nerves while his other hand pinched my clit again, and I cascaded into oblivion.
I came hard and fast, the stress of captivity and loneliness edging the sensations into a place of desperation. I needed this release. I’d never be able to think clearly without it. These waves of pleasure rolling through my veins would be enough to sustain me even if I never ate another meal.
My channel clenched around his finger again and again, drawing out every bit of pleasure. Only when it had ebbed away entirely and my body started to relax, the burning desire pooling into satisfaction low in my stomach, did he withdraw his fingers. He pinched my clit lightly, one last time, before pulling away entirely.
I was breathing so heavily that I could not even hear him beside me.
My eyes were still closed. I’d cracked them open hours ago, seen that Garrick was still in the room, and then slammed them shut again.
Then I let him pleasure me.
Oh gods—no, fuck the gods—what had I done?
The liquid remnants of my climax crystallized inside of me. My entire body went rigid. White morning light stung my eyes, temporarily blinding me, leaving me thrashing and trying to get away from him, except…
Garrick was nowhere to be seen. Not asleep on the hearthrug or silently changing his clothes. In the pale hours of dawn, I’d cowered under the coverlet, hiding from him, desperate to avoid another conversation. But the sun was up fully now, even thoughit hid behind the clouds, and no number of blankets would hide me fromhim.
“You look so pretty when you come, sweetling.”
He reclined on the bed beside me, his head propped on one elbow, and his lean body stretched across the length of the bed. His own side was completely undisturbed. He wasn’t beneath the blankets. Neither was I. They were in a tangle around me, and I was painfully, fully, completely naked.
I grabbed the sheets to my chest. This could not be happening. Garrick was not here.Isanara?
I caught a shimmer of lavender near the foot of the bed.Leave me out of this.
I clutched the sheets tighter, but they stuck to my fingers. A new sort of horrifying realization dawned. My hands were wet with my own arousal and release. The man who was to blame lay there, watching me with what appeared to be no more than mild interest, his golden brow smooth, his bow-shaped lips perfectly unquirked.
“You bastard,” I seethed. There had to be something to throw. I wanted my familiar to tear him apart. But from the thump I heard, I suspected she was hiding under the bed.
“Incorrect,”the Dark God said into my mind without moving a single blasted muscle.“Your bastard prince is elsewhere.”
“You… you invaded my mind,” I stammered, now quite believing it even as I connected all the pieces. My body, still coming down from release, my wet hands, his serene expression. He’d used his connection to my mind to spur my thoughts, to make me dream Garrick was touching me… and that he was. That was the change I’d felt. Not Garrick’s hands, but the Dark God’s. But not really, because I’d been touching myself. “You planted those desires, made me touch myself and think of you. Gods… NO!”
“They do call me the Dark God.”
“There are a lot of things I should call you?—"
“None of those are very nice.”
“Get out of my head!” I screamed.
Isanara was suddenly at my side, despite her insistence on staying out of… whatever this was. I didn’t even remember getting out of bed, only that I stood naked, clutching a sheet to my front, with my dragon growling at my side.
The only good thing about the whole infuriating, humiliating moment was that the Dark God had to sit up to see me properly. I enjoyed one second of triumph before he swung his legs around to the side of the bed and gave me his back. Because, apparently, looking at me was not actually that important.
“And as much as I’d enjoy hearing you put that lovely tongue of yours to use, we don’t have time,” the Dark God said. Aloud, for once. “Your lover won’t leave you alone long, and we have work to do.”
Yourbastard prince.Yourlover.
