I tried to refocus.
“I was thinking about something I read recently,” I said, lifting my hips just slightly. He gripped my thighs, his fingers digging into the leather.
“There’s a book in the study about mage folk laws. It goes over your sentences, and some of them involve trials.”
I could feel his hand hesitate for only a moment, almost too quick to notice. “That got me wondering. Do you have to complete a trial for yours?”
A slight shift. He hesitated for a second too long. Yet, he responded, his tone as casual as always, “Are you trying to seduce me for information?”
“No,” I replied, feigning indifference.
He chuckled, a knowing smile in his voice. “You need to work on your lying skills, Darling.”
Ugh. I straightened up on his lap. “So answer me. Will you—”
“I can’t answer,” he cut me off, a swallow working down his throat. “I need you not to ask me that.”
I searched his gaze, my mouth itching to ask more, but...He must have had a reason. He must not have been able to tell me, which meant there could be a trial.
Before I could respond, he leaned in, pressing our bodies flush together, and placed a kiss on my throat.
“I know it’s hard for you when I say this, but I need you to trust me,” Reagan said against my skin. “You’re so curious. It’s almost fascinating that you’re reading about that. By choice. I can’t imagine anyone doing it unless they worked with a magister.”
He tilted his head to place another kiss on the centre of my throat, hands sliding under the burgundy fabric of my sweater, finding the lace of my bra. Reagan shifted, drawing me further into his lap, where I could feel the undeniable pressure of him.
His teeth skimmed my skin, sending a pulse of heat through me. I couldn’t help but think of his animal form and that there was something wrong with me for enjoying it.
“I have other questions,” I said, but those—those fingers . . .
“That’s too bad,” he murmured, his voice thick. “I liked where this was going.” His hand tugged down my bra, and one finger circled the peak of my breast.
My hips arched in response, and a low sound came from my lips.
That was enough to break any pretence of control.
“Keep your questions for later,” he said.
Reagan stood, lifting me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I held tight to his shoulders as he made for the door.
“Wait, put me—”
The door to the dining room burst open, and Reagan strode across the foyer, carrying us straight toward the staircase. A few maids glanced up at us, curious, but they turned away. Maybe trying to be polite, maybe uncomfortable with the display.
Heat flooded my neck and cheeks.
We were halfway to my bedroom when Finnegan appeared. “Reagan, we need to—”
“Later,” he replied curtly as we passed the emissary, whose eyes tracked us. Whose smirk showed full understanding of our plans.
Finn couldn’t resist adding, “Have fun.”
“You know, we’d be more subtle if you put me down,” I said.
Reagan shot me a playful glance. “Why should we care about being subtle?”
“I don’t know. Propriety?”
We were about to enter my chamber when Cerridwen found us.
