He was sofucked.
Of course, she was never going to let him win this.
“You want to talk about lessons, Andrian?” Mariah’s hands slid up his thighs, her words barely audible over the music. “Here’s one, just for you.” She reached his waistband, deftly undoing the button and coaxing down the zipper. “If you make a sound, or do anything to compromise your queen’s image, then I won’t allow you toteach meanything again.”
Andrian’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth. “Looks like you’re the one about to do the compromising.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s what makes it all the more fun.” She slid her warm hand into his unbuttoned trousers, wrapping it around his cock.
His head thudded against the back of his chair, biting on his tongue to swallow his groan. “This is cruel, Mariah.”
“But what was it you just said?” He glanced down, nearly choking at the sight of her kneeling there, glimmering dress hitched up around her tan thighs, his hard, aching cock fisted in her grip. “Don’t start things you don’t intend to finish? I’m simply being a good student.”
He wanted to give her a clever retort. Wanted to keep the banter going, to get her to understand that she’d made her point, that they were inpublic, for fuck’s sake?—
She ran her tongue up the underside of his cock in a long, languid stroke, and his world blurred around the edges.
When she sucked the sensitive tip into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and swirling him with her tongue, he had to grip the arms of his chair so hard he feared they’d snap.
His breaths came in heavy pants, heart pounding in his ears in beat with the music, as Mariah swallowed his cock beneath the table.
It was so wrong. This was a public celebration, set in a temple to the gods, and they were guests of honor. If anyone glanced in their direction, curious about the foreign queen in attendance, they would see her empty chair.
And they’d probably see him, locked in a battle with his own body, and wonder what in the gods’ name was happening in their alcove.
Even with that thought, even knowing how wrong this was…fuck, it was also so gods-damnedhot.
Pleasure curled at the base of his spine, weeks of being caught on the edge of desire and denied—both by himself and by her—coursing through his body and threatening to pull him apart at the seams.
His eyes fluttered, losing himself in his queen’s hot, wet mouth, the way she took him down her throat so fucking well, the way her hands cupped his balls and her tongue circled around his shaft?—
“Ah, the Onitans!”
Andrian’s heart dropped into his stomach, his eyes flying open. The oldest council man—Viktor, if he remembered correctly—approached their table, a glass of amber liquorclutched in his hand. He was slightly unsteady on his feet, swaying with the music from the play as he walked.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Mariah had also stilled, the sudden loss of her around him like a cold shock to the system. He shifted, trying to sink lower in his seat, suddenly so fucking thankful that the aisle running in front of their table was set on a lower ledge.
Viktor halted, glazed eyes meeting Andrian’s. He took another sip from his drink. “I apologize for interrupting,” he said, words running together. “Where is the queen? She is here tonight, is she not?”
A breath ghosted across his cock, like a soft chuckle. Andrian tried not to wince. “Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. He softly cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said again. “She’s here. Just using the powder room.”
The fucking powder room? Did he even know what a powder roomwas?
It seemed to be enough of an answer for the old man, though. Viktor nodded emphatically. “Ah, of course. But I do hope she is enjoying the show?”
As if in answer, Mariah gripped his cock, pumping him slowly.
Andrian gritted his teeth, gripping the chair to control his trembling. “Yes, she is. Very much.”
If the man noticed that his answer was more of a choke, he didn’t comment.
Viktor tipped his drink back, finishing it in a single gulp. “That is good,” he slurred. “Well, please enjoy your night. I hope to find her after the feast.”
Andrian gave him a tight nod and an equally pained smile. “That would be—” Teeth nipped at the head of his cock, his words catching in his throat. “That would be great,” he rushedout, begging to whatever god would listen that this man would leave.
As if on cue, as if his prayer had been answered, the same server from earlier rushed into the aisle. “Sir!” the youth squeaked. “You must return to your seats. The show is not yet over!” She shot an apologetic glance up at Andrian before gripping the elder council man’s elbow and guiding him back to his table.
