I tipped the glass up and chugged deeply, but Bastian pulled it away before I could finish it. “You don’t get to be the drunk one.”
I rolled my eyes as knocked the rest back. “If that’s enough to get you drunk, you’re even weaker than I thought.”
He slammed the empty flagon down on the table and circled around the screen to declare, “Let’s get this over with.”
I took my time following him to the altar. I’d been raised as a warrior, trained since I could hold a weapon to exploit weaknesses and always find a way to victory…but victory in this case meant buying Thorin time, not taking out the guard to the right of the door first because he favored his left knee, then disarming the other guard and using one of the thirteen exit paths I’d instinctively noted during the ceremony. Victory meant shutting down every warrior instinct I possessed to somehow endure what had to happen now.
“Undress your lord,” said the smarmy shit of a priest, with a hand gesture towards Bastian.
If I lifted my hand, he was going to see it trembling. They all would. I couldn’t seem to shake the dread that had me by the throat. If I lost control, they’d kill Layla.
One step at a time.
I could undress him without an issue. Danes didn’t think anything of nudity, but the Saxons were always covered up like there was something wrong with a naked body. Except, apparently, at weddings?
Bastian cleared his throat when I didn’t move. “He’s talking about me, sweet.Your lord. You’re to undress me now.”
“Sweet?” My smile wasn’t feigned. I was going to enjoy making him suffer for that remark.
I stepped closer to Bastian, and he squared his shoulders, standing with his arms slightly raised from his sides, his palms up. It would’ve been so easy to sucker punch him in the stomach—satisfying too—but I resisted the urge.
Subtlety was key.
I unfastened his tunic, but when I went to strip it from his shoulders, I dug my nails into his skin. He tensed but didn’t so much as flinch. I could say what I wanted about him, but he was made of tougher stuff than most of his people, and he fought more like a Dane. If he hadn’t been a Saxon and the bloody prince to boot, I would’ve enjoyed taking him as a lover.
Layers of cotton formed a vestlike underlayer beneath his tunic, so I circled around to his front, looked into his annoyingly beautiful blue eyes, and raked my nails down his chest as I slid the pieces of cloth off.
His mouth barely moved as he softly said, “Is that all you’ve got?”
I fought a chuckle.Just wait until we’re alone…
His upper torso was bare now, and I had to admit, it was an attractive sight. He may not have been built with the hulking thickness of a Viking, but lean muscle covered his tall frame.
He looked down at me with a devastating smile and widened his stance like he was bracing himself.
A challenge if ever I’ve seen one.
I scraped my nails along the tender skin of his lower stomach as I released his belt. He hissed through his teeth, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move to stop me.
I looked up at him and slipped my fingertips into his trousers, readying to pull them down. He met my eyes with a look of defiance, daring me to do it.
I jerked them down to his knees with one swift move, scoring his thighs with my nails. His chest rose and fell faster, but he didn’t look away.
His rock-hard cock sprang free, and I arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you enjoying this,my lord?”
People gasped and muttered in shock at my comment.
“The lady will maintain decorum!” the king snapped.
I’d been so focused on tormenting Bastian, I’d nearly forgotten we had an audience sitting out in the pews.
“My turn,” he whispered in my ear as he circled behind me.
I smirked. He could burn my clothes off my body, and I wouldn’t react to the pain. I’d been too well trained for that.
He ever-so-gently unlaced my gown, letting his fingertips brush over my neck when he loosened the top. The light touch almost made my breathing hitch because it was so unexpected and intimate.
When the gown was open enough to be pulled from my shoulders, he circled in front of me and held eye contact as he loomed over me, a rare feat for any man, since I was taller than most. He slid his hands under the gown and gently pushed it off.
