He grabbed her hips and spun her around to face him, then pulled the ribbons with both hands, yanking hard. Her back bowed and a harsh gasp pulled from her lungs as he pressed the full length of his erection into her lower belly.
“I…I said…” Caelian’s sapphire eyes were wild with dizzying emotions, but the rise of lust burning hot in their blue depths was unmistakable.
“I know what you said,” he ground out, tugging tight again, binding the laces all the way down her back. “No one else touches you. Except forme.”
She nodded sharply, chest heaving, and his gaze dipped to the rising swell of her breasts. It was then he realized he could see the fullness of their curves perfectly, along with the hard little peaks of her nipples. The corset did a wonderful job of showcasing her cleavage, the tempting lace made him want to suck her nipple right into his mouth.
Kjeld squeezed his eyes shut. A dull ache formed at the base of his neck, causing the rest of his head to pound with a vengeance. But it was nothing compared to the throbbing of his cock.
“What’s wrong?” Caelian asked, her soft voice filled with concern. She pressed the back of her hand gently to his forehead. “You look unwell. Pained, almost. Is everything alright?”
He didn’t answer her directly but instead only offered her his arm. “We should go. Queen Viktoria will be expecting us soon, and I want to see what I can find before the bonfires are lit.”
The second her slender fingers curled around his arm, Kjeld led Caelian out of their shared bedchamber and into the long stretch of a dimly lit corridor.
It was time to see what they could discover about Viktoria Kalstrand, the Witch Queen.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caelian kept pace with Kjeld, though it was a bit of a struggle given the length of his stride. She had to force him to wait a minute so she could at least have time to slip on a pair of black leather boots that rose just above her knees, lest she wander through the drab halls barefoot.
Though she supposed that wasn’t quite a fair assumption.
Castle Brackroth wasn’t nearly as desolate and depressing as Creslyn had led her to believe. Sure, the sconces illuminating the hall were alight with flickering flames that might snuff out in a moment’s notice. But the walls were papered with black roses etched in gold, the floor was made of polished ebony, and each door they passed appeared hand carved. Perhaps Queen Viktoria had made some improvements since her arrival at the castle. Not that Caelian would have time to meander through the labyrinth of corridors and wings, because Kjeld barely gave her time to steal a glance at her reflection as they passed a hall of arching gilded mirrors.
Kjeld drew up short before they rounded a corner, throwing his arm out to halt her.
“Shit.”
That was all she heard him mutter before he dragged her across the corridor and shoved her into a closet. Darkness swallowed her as he closed the door behind him, enveloping them in the cramped stillness. The closet was musty and damp, and her back was pushed into something that felt like a metal shelf. Caelian tried to make herself as small as possible when Kjeld’s solid body pressed against her own, when he seemingly inhaled every inch of space between them. There was no space to move, and she fumbled around blindly, both hands coming to rest on his chest when she belatedly realized she was standing upon his feet.
“Sorry.” The word squeaked out of her, and Kjeld clamped one hand over her mouth.
“Quiet,” Kjeld warned, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t make a sound.”
His other hand gripped her waist, leisurely skimming the boning of the dress, rising higher until his thumb lazily traced circles around her very exposed nipple.
The gown she picked for the Evarfest did absolutely nothing to disguise her rather sumptuous assets, so she’d chosen to flaunt them instead.
Yet as Kjeld continued his teasing strokes around her flesh, she was beginning to regret her decision. Without any underthings, it was impossible to ignore the slickness building between her thighs. The way heat pooled low in her belly. The way her core throbbed with need.
But then she heard them.
The scoff of masculine voices.
The clicking of timely footfalls.
And the desire budding within her withered away.
Guards. She couldn’t be sure how many of them were coming down the hall, but Kjeld had heard them. In fact, he picked up on their approach well before her. He’d known they were comingand shuffled her into a closet so they wouldn’t be discovered. It was interesting, the way his senses had been amplified with fae magic. They were far greater than her own.
Murmured voices echoed on the other side of the closet door—their accents were thick, and whatever they were discussing must have been funny because one of them loosed a good-natured laugh as they continued their patrol. She kept quiet while they passed, hesitant to even breathe, worried that they would hear. Every inch of her was pressed against every inch of Kjeld, but they were frozen together, statues locked in a moment of time, worried the slightest blink, the barest parting of lips, would give them away.
Caelian didn’t know how long they stayed locked in there. It was likely only minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Until Kjeld slowly pushed open the door, and all the tension in her body released on its quiet groan.
She stepped out into the hall, a sigh of relief pulling from her lungs, and Kjeld grabbed her hand.
His summer blue eyes were focused on her when he asked, “Alright?”
