Page 204 of Dare

Except I knew about guarding familial secrets. As did Poet, who’d hidden Nicu from the Spring Crown for years.

Following my recap of Rhys’s comment, Poet debated. “’Tis a matter not handled lightly.”

Indeed. Of all people, the jester understood the vulnerability of this subject. As far as we knew, the king’s mystery offspring had done nothing wrong and hardly deserved to pay for their father’s crimes.

Still, this could be an advantage. Or it could be a lost cause.

Time would tell. For tonight, we let it go.

Poet glanced in the courtyard’s direction. “Before I snatch my wife, drag her to the nearest corrupt spot, and fuck her senseless, allow me this.” He gave me a sidelong look. “You deserve Flare.”

I still loathed this pain in the ass. Yet the words closed their perceptive fingers around my chest. The place where all things related to Flare existed, a gear that needed only to be twisted for the rest of me to respond automatically.

The jester relished my speechlessness and smirked. “I always get the last word, sweeting.”

Before I could retort, he sauntered back to the courtyard. Trailing him, I watched the scene unfold.

Briar’s ladies gyrated against the minstrel. Avalea spun with Nicu and Aire. Occasionally, the knight craned his head to search for a member who wasn’t there, his brows furrowing.

Poet snuck up behind Briar and spun her to face him. She chuckled as he pressed his forehead to hers and brandished a wicked grin, steering the princess backward until they slipped around a corner, likely to Briar’s private grounds where the fucking would commence.

Later, I would confide in Flare about Aspen and Aire. Just as we would talk about many things we’d need to prepare ourselves for.

Until then, the rest of this night was about us. No one else.

Sensing these thoughts, my little beast agreed with me while twirling like a flame and catching the heat in my gaze. Jutting her hips, she crooked a beckoning finger and lured me with those golden eyes. I stalked after her, pursued her, chased her. When I seized Flare’s ass and jerked her into me, she gasped with laughter.

We swayed, not caring who saw us. Her warmth melted through me, her pussy covertly rubbing against my cock in a destructive way.

Skimming her palms up my torso, Flare spoke against my lips. “What are you thinking?”

“That I love you,” I murmured. “That I must have you.”

She nipped my jaw and teased, “Only if you ask nicely.”

“I shall never be nice,” I hissed, digging my possessive fingers into her flesh.

Flare sashayed while guiding me toward the door leading into the Royal wing, where we shared a suite and a very large bed. “Except to me.”

I followed her steps, because I would follow her anywhere. “Except to you.”

Always, my exception. Always, my undoing.

And tonight, I would fuck her amid the fire.

59

Flare

Tonight, he fucked me amid the ice. In a Royal suite of mahogany wood and navy drapes, a fire roared within a stone hearth. Before those crackling flames, two bodies rocked together, my shadow blending with his, our silhouettes rolling like waves.

A fur blanket slumped around my hips as I straddled the king’s lap, arched toward a ceiling of intricate beams, and lost my breath from the sensation of his mouth on my skin. Jeryn bowed his head between my breasts, kissing the place where my heart beat, a hot exhale and a cold hiss rushing against that sacred spot.

It belonged to him. Just as the deep pulse drumming from his own chest belonged to me.

With a final snap of his waist, Jeryn’s cock wrung a cry from me. With a last rippling clench, my soaked cunt drew a groan from him.

We shuddered against one another, coming slow and long.

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