by A. K. Koonce
My men.
If, for the rest of my life, everything I ever do is all an act, I can at least rest assured that these men are mine. These people here today don’t know what real loyalty is.
But I do.
They didn’t imprison me; they’re trying to save me. They’re trying to rescue me just like I rescued them.
Tristan smiles and gives a small wave to his people before trailing after me. He joins us, his wife scurrying over to his side. Her white gown clings too tightly to her overflowing chest. A needy look is all she possesses as she waits patiently at Tristan’s side, but his eyes are fully focused on me.
It doesn’t take long for her neglected attention to shift.
Queen Anna’s gaze settles darkly on Ryder and he holds her stare for several seconds.
What’s flashing through his mind right now?
Judging by the look of hate in his narrowed eyes and the hard set of his jaw, I’d say a fine mixture of anger and embarrassment.
Embarrassment sometimes fuels anger. The stupidity you feel from letting your emotions turn you into something weak is a match for the fires of rage.
My fingers drift to his arm, pulling his attention to me. We both ignore the dry blood that coats my fingertips. A line creases his brow as he looks down on that small touch.
“Will you dance with me?” I ask in a shy whisper. With intent, I arch my back ever so slightly until my chest is pushing against his arm.
Curious confusion is all he has in his eyes. His blonde brow rises but he nods anyway.
His warm hand slips down until our fingers our interlocked and he walks me to the center of the room. I feel her attention on us, stabbing right through me. Dancers sway past us. Beautiful gowns of every color swish by, led by crisp-suited men.
Stiffly he holds my hips and I lock my hands lazily behind his neck. There’s enough space between us to invite Daxdyn and Darrio over as well but I don’t think Ryder would appreciate that thought.
The space of the grand room brings back memories. It’s a public space, parties and announcements are held here. I’ve been here a few times before, years ago.
I swallow hard at the thought.
“What are you doing, beautiful?” he asks in a hushed tone, his light eyes sweeping over the busy room like he’s waiting for a trap I’ve somehow set up in my free time.
“I just thought …” I bite the inside of my cheek and consider the best way to phrase this. “I thought you’d want to make Anna jealous.”
Laughter rumbles through his broad chest.
“I’m not a child, Kara. I don’t have to go out of my way to hurt someone.”
I think about how he spoke of a girlfriend when we almost kissed at my aunt’s house.
“Why did you call her your girlfriend?” I ask as my fingers begin to toy with the shaved sides of his blonde hair. I don’t know why it makes me happy that he’s no longer with her. It’s a petty and strange feeling.
Lightly his fingers push against my jeans, skimming over my bare hips just slightly.
“Like my brother said, she was a pawn to him. I didn’t love her but I think everyone deserves closure. Maybe she knew his plans and maybe she didn’t.”
“I think she did,” I say, making him smirk down at me.
His shifting eyes rake over me, drifting down to my lips and then further down to my chest. I feel his attention skimming across my flesh like a light touch.
“If I wanted to make someone jealous, what would you suggest?”
A smile curves my lips as I lead us into a smooth dance across the floor. He lets me; he lets me guide our graceful steps.
I move just as I did when I was a young girl in dance class. I move like a refined lady instead of a dangerous thief.
“Well, for starters, I’d think you’d want to eliminate this space that’s preventing the feel of my body pressing perfectly against yours.”
Without another word, his hands dip low on my back, pulling me close against his hard chest. I watch the sharp angle of his Adam’s apple as he visibly swallows.
My heart pounds against his chest, racing his heartbeat to an end that I’m not sure either of us is ready for.
“Then what?”
We’re moving slower now, just the two of us swaying as our hips shift against one another.
“Then I think you’d lean in and whisper something witty in my ear and I’d laugh prettily as I pretend it’s the most charming thing I’ve ever heard.”
His lips are close to mine and they skim across my jaw as his head dips low. Warm breaths shiver across my neck and every nerve in my body waits for whatever it is he might whisper in my ear.
My breath catches as his lips press against the corner of my jaw, just near my ear.
“Like this?” The rasping of his voice has my body melding into his and I nod without thought as my eyes flutter closed. “Kara?” he asks, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear in a warm, breathy tone.
“Yeah?” I ask as I arch into him.
“You’re not laughing as if I’m the wittiest man you’ve ever heard.”
“Hmm,” a smirk curves my lips and I lean into him on the tips of my boots. In a quiet voice, I whisper, “Perhaps even I am not that good of an actress, my Prince.”
A real laugh tumbles through him and I’m not sure if either of us is pretending anything for anyone right now.
“Careful, calling me a prince is grounds for treason.”
I pull back slightly from him and it isn’t Anna I search out in the crowd.
It’s Daxdyn and Darrio.
Their height towers over the others and for an instant I panic as I wonder what Ryder and I really look like together.
It feels strange but I care what they think of me.
It’s the first time in years that I care about what someone thinks of me. There isn’t anger in Darrio, or jealousy. Just … concern. Silver eyes trail over every detail of the crowd, over every swaying body and he lands on me continuously. It’s as if I’m the concern. I’m what’s worrying this beautiful fae. Daxdyn’s tired eyes stare off in the distance, not fixated on anything in particular.
“Then I think we should probably stop before we both lose our heads,” I tell Ryder.
“My brother would like nothing more.” The smile tilting his lips is charming. White and straight. Perfect.
I nod and step back from him. His hand stays laced in mine as he leads me back to Daxdyn and Darrio.
Tristan’s calculating attention drifts from Ryder’s hand on mine to Darrio who’s staring down at me with heated attention.
Daxdyn pulls Ryder’s arm and the two of them begin whispering among themselves as they walk toward the wine table. Ryder peeks back at me as he speaks to his friend and a knowing smirk tilts Daxdyn’s lips at whatever was just said.
I can’t help but wonder what they’re whispering about.
Darrio takes a single step closer to me, his body breeding warmth into mine.
I want to lean into him. I want to let this shitty day fade away as Darrio holds me to his chest.
“Are you toying with all three of them?” Tristan’s voice cuts through, interrupting my thoughts, but I continue to stare ahead, ignoring the high King of Juvar. “Even the unfortunate looking one?”
My spine stiffens as he nods to Darrio. The fae clears his throat before looking toward the lines of the white tile floor.
The unfortunate looking one?
The scar slicing down Darrio’s face demands my attention, the slight tilt of his nose, the dark brows that are lowered over shining, serious eyes.
Then I think about how his perfect smile transforms his whole appearance. The strong body he carries with confidence and the loyalty he’s shown me pulls to the front of my thoughts. In a way, I love every one of the twisting scars that line his hard body. They’re an art that displays his resilience. He’s a warrior through and through.
He’s everything King Tristan will never be.
; I tip my head up at the king, finally giving him my attention. My long blonde hair sways with the swift movement of my anger.
“Actually, the only thing unfortunate about Darrio is his personality.”
A cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh shakes through Darrio.
“You’re an asshole,” he whispers under his breath before taking a long drink of wine.
Tristan looks from me to Darrio and then back again.
“All three of them. You truly are a sorceress, Zakara”
I begin to nod even though I desperately want to roll my eyes at him.
“Yes, my vagina is quite the enchantress.” My jaw snaps shut as I stare at the soot staining the wall behind him.
His look turns sour as his blazing gaze narrows on me.
“You’re a crude little piece of fae trash.”
It’s suddenly hard to swallow. A hundred words threaten to vomit from my throat, but I force them back down. This is a dangerous kingdom. My words don’t belong to me here. Tristan owns even my words and I’ll choke them down if I know what’s good for me.
“I’m not feeling well. If you’ll excuse me.” The sweetest of smiles press tightly to my lips.
A single step is all I take.
Thin fingers wrap around my upper arm until pain shoots through me. My jaw clamps tightly closed and I raise my glare to meet the king’s hard gaze.
“You leave when I say you leave, Miss Storm.” The cruel smile he gives me reminds me to keep my own pretend happiness in place across my lips.
Of all the words he just said, the word Miss burns through my mind on repeat. It’s a formality that thieves like me aren’t given. I haven’t been a ‘miss’ anything in over five years. Because of his mother.
My jaw tics as I stare at the glossy tiles.
Darrio’s wide shoulders bump mine as he shifts on his feet. His body interferes with the grip Tristan has on me. The king releases me as the two study one another. Fury burns through Darrio’s smoky eyes like a fire that not even their iron shackle can put out.
“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” His tone is a low sound of rasping rage. “She isn’t one of your belongings.” Darrio’s deep voice vibrates through my own body, sending a shiver over my skin. His spine is ramrod straight and a false smile is held on his lips. It’s more of a daring sneer really. His eyes are that steely gray color he always reserved for me when we first met. The king appraises Darrio’s height, every strong muscled piece of him. Darrio’s like a scarred weapon: dangerous and powerful.
The king’s throat bobs. He curtly turns his back on both of us.
“Good night, Miss Storm.”
Chapter Eight
Just a Kiss
“My personality is really unfortunate, is it?” Darrio’s hard body cages me and a taunting smile tilts the corner of his lips. My bedroom door sways closed behind him.
One step after another and he has me pinned against my bedroom wall and it’s all I can manage to just nod at him. My thighs shift as heat pools between my legs.
Warm hands push against my hips before meeting the bare skin of my ribs. A shiver shakes through me, and I tip my head up at him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, the emotions in me crowding my thoughts.
“For what?”
“For demanding the king to see me as a real person and not just a possession.”
I lean my head into the crook of his neck, resting on him and hiding my face from the honesty I just spoke.
He cradles my body against his. His strong arms wrap around me with the full force of safety surrounding me.
“No one owns you, Kara.” The warm, smooth tone of his comforting words tightens the feeling that’s coiling within me.
I lean up on the teetering tips of my boots and press a soft kiss to his neck. I pause as he tenses beneath me but I don’t let him speak before my tongue slips between my lips and I kiss there once more. Big hands skim down my body. He grips my ass hard as he holds me against him.
His beard scrapes my cheek as I rake my teeth across the sensitive skin of his neck and collar bone.
“Kara—” His rasping voice shakes through me and my hands twist into his hair. “I can’t hurt Dax.”
The sound of his brother’s name is painful on his lips. It causes me to stop, halting every lust-filled thought in my head.
“What?” I ask on an empty breath. My chest pushes against his as I arch back to stare up at him.
The look in his eyes is confused and regretful.
“I won’t hurt him. He likes you and I won’t hurt him. I’m—I’m sorry.” His hands move slowly from the curve of my ass to an almost platonic place on my hips.
“I wouldn’t hurt him either.” My brows pull together as we both stare at each other in silence.
“Good.” He nods continuously. “Good. You’d be good for him.”
That word is repeated so much that it’s swimming through my mind.
Good.
“What you and I have isn’t good?” I ask so quietly it hurts my chest to whisper it.
His brows raise high toward the dark locks that are loose around his face.
“What we have is … more than good.”
My hand drifts from the base of his neck to the coarse stubble along his jaw. My thumb rakes over his beard before skimming his lower lip.
He never kissed me.
Not really.
Not since I slapped the hell out of him that first time.
Why didn’t he ever kiss me?
All the moments we’ve shared feel wasted now because of the loss of a kiss that we never got to have.
I’ll never get to know what it’d feel like to let him care about me. Somehow, he’s lowered my walls and just when I’m defenseless he’s turning away, leaving me open and wounded for just anyone to see the damage I’m hiding within.
“Kiss me.” It’s a torturous sound that leaves my lips. A pleading request that I can feel aching within my chest.
His warm hand slides up my forearm before clasping around my knuckles. He pulls my hand back, away from his mouth and he stares down at me in silence for so long I’m sure he’s about to walk away.
Slowly his head tilts closer and his temple leans against mine. My breaths are unstable and clash against his, drawing out this painful rejection that I feel coming.
“Close your eyes.” The warm tumbling sound of his voice washes over me and I do as I’m told. “No one’s ever asked me to kiss them before,” he says in a confessional whisper. “Have you thought about it a lot? Us kissing?” The warmth of his breath fans across my lips, but I can’t tell if he’s any closer or not.
The rough pads of his fingers skim along my jaw, chasing a shiver across my flesh.
I nod, still not opening my eyes.
“Hmm, so have I.” Soft lips brush against the column of my neck followed by the tingling of his beard and my head tilts for him. His confession makes me realize how gentle he’s been with me, how sweet he’s been recently. “I’ve thought about it every day.” A breath that sounds a little like a moan shakes through me as the warmth of his tongue sweeps over my jaw line as he kisses me there. “Every day since you let me fuck you.” At that I do moan, my legs shaking as his body pins me to the wall. His hard length pressing just above my hips has me shifting against him. “Why’d you let me fuck you, Kara?” His mouth skims the corner of my mouth.
My lashes flutter open and with the nearly nonexistent space separating our lips, I consider his odd question.
“Because we’re exactly the same. And there isn’t a single hurtful word you could say to me that could make me ignore the spark I feel when you’re near.”
A half breath is all he gives me before his lips slam onto mine.
His head dips low as his teeth rake across my lower lip, making me gasp long enough for his tongue slip in. Pain and pleasure pulses through me as his nails dig into my skin and he grinds his hips in rhythm with mine.
With a rush of need my hands sh
ove down his hard chest to the straining bulge in his jeans. My fingers fumble with the metal zipper for only a second before he’s shoving them away and unzipping it himself. The smooth length of his dick meets my palm, making me wet at just the feel of his hardness.
Then his fingers are drifting over my lower stomach and he pushes my jeans down without bothering with the button. I teeter on my feet as I kick the clothes off. The distinct sound of a new tear in my jeans emits through the room but I don’t dwell on it.
The stiff feel of him has my hand working quicker over his cock and he groans into my mouth. It’s a sound that has me mimicking the vibrations of it. It’s a sound that causes a soaring high to rocket through me, sending my emotions into a frenzy of unintelligible, lust-filled thoughts.
Until he grips my hips and flips me. In an instant, the cool wall is pressed against my cheek; the feel of his warm mouth is torn away from me as he holds my hips steady. Before I can even understand what’s happening, the smooth head of his dick pushes at my entrance.
My lips part as I realize we’re once again in the same setting as the first time we had sex.
“Darrio.” My tone is quiet but it seems to command him at once. He stops where he is just behind me, straining against me. My hands are flat against the wall, my messy hair veiling my face from him.
“Yeah?” Heavy, shaking breaths fall against the back of my neck.
A few seconds pass as I consider my words carefully.
“Do you always have sex like this?” The tight grip he has on my hips loosens as if he might let go entirely.
I turn slowly and face him, my hands lingering against the swirling, inky lines peeking out along the base of his neck.
“I—” He swallows and then nods without adding to the confirmation.
My heart hurts a little as I think about the reasons he would have for preferring that position. The pink scar that lines his face meets my index finger, skimming down until the coarse feel of his beard drags over my skin. The slight tilt of his nose catches my attention, but his beautiful lips are more demanding. Every one of his imperfections is laid out for everyone to judge and I didn’t think he gave two shits about their judgement.