Page 69 of Null & Void

I lean up to kiss him, but he dodges me. I don’t have time to wonder why, as he slips his fingers into my wetness and slides it up my slit.

He sucks in a breath. “You’re so fucking wet. What were you dreaming about?”

“Daddy Beans,” I tease, licking up the column of his throat, since that’s all I can reach while restrained.

He releases my hand and growls softly. “Then why don’t you ask him to scratch your itch?”

“Maybe I wi?—”

Riley slides a finger inside me, cutting my words short. The room is silent, and I stifle my moan so the two people on the other side of the room stay asleep. The slick sounds of his finger’s rhythmic movements are amplified in the silence, especially as he adds a second finger. He pumps in and out with deliberate strokes, and I muffle my ragged breath into his throat.

With my hand free now, I slide it down his torso, aiming for his pants. I need more, I need to touch him at the same time. I reach his waistband and slip my hand under it. He leans down to my ear. “I will not be able to remain as quiet as you are if you touch me, Firecat,” he whispers.

I grunt my frustration, nipping at his ear as I hold his hip instead. He slides his fingers deeper and brings his thumb around to stroke the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. As his fingers slide out slightly with a curl of pressure inside, his thumb slides downward. Fingers sliding all the way back in while his thumb, now slick, slides up and over my sensitive nub.

He must realize I’m close, because he cocoons me entirely under him, all while his fingers slip in and out of my core and the heat of his thumb caresses along my slit. I buck and arch my back, holding my breath against him so I don’t make a sound. My nails dig into his hip as I quake with release. I pant as quietly as possible, trying to return to even breathing as my body continues to quiver and shudder with aftershocks.

“I can still feel your climax fluttering around my fingers,” Riley whispers, fingers still inside me. And then he laughs quietly as his words cause my walls to clench around his fingers in another wave of pleasure.

Finally able to breathe normally, I relax onto my back, and he gently removes his fingers. I reach for his face, but he rolls off the bed to stand. The moonlight streaming through the window reveals the silhouette of exactly what I was missing between his legs. He hands me my underwear quietly and moves like a ghost into the washroom.

Never have I been able to climax with someone else’s fingers, proving how wound-tight I really was. I consider following Riley into the washroom, surely he could be quieter in there. I want to taste him, feel him in my mouth. I haven’t done that since the time I was forced to, and I thought I’d never want to again. But I do, if it’s Riley. I must fall asleep thinking about him fucking my mouth because he startles me awake, crawling back into our bed, erection gone.

“I’ll scratch your itch next time,” I promise.

“No need, Firecat. I just wanted to prove I could fuck you with my fingers. Goodnight.”

Thankful for a moonless sky, I’m climbing the outer walls toward Prince Eryn’s room the next night. Unfortunately, I am still only wearing a black hooded cloak instead of a sneaksuit. It’s risky and dangerous to be doing this so exposed, but we have no choice. Part of our plan is to kidnap the young prince and get him to tell us where the doxies are. Then tomorrow, hopefully before anyone realizes he’s gone, I’ll take my new uniform for a tour.

For a tyrannical king, it’s far too easy to get to his son’s room. Bitty is nearby and will cause a diversion if they hear anything to suggest someone has spotted me, giving me time to get away. But so far, so good, there is not a single guard around.

It’s the middle of the night, and Bitty said they’ve heard nothing since the prince went to bed a few hours after sunset and has heard nothing since. Praying to the Divine this isn’t a trap, I silently open his window and slink into the room, closing it behind me.

Crouching under the window, I allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness and survey the prince’s room. My heart skips a beat before realizing the three faces looking at me across the room are only a realistic painting. The large and gaudy frame takes up most of the wall, and as my eyes continue to adjust, I make out the super detailed faces of who I assume are the king, his deceased queen, and their son, Eryn.

Yet another tragic royal death. Queen Jasi broke her neck falling off a horse a decade past. Though I do remember there being something in the rumor mill about it, so there may be more to the story than what was made public. But I had my own shit to deal with at the time—learning to become an assassin in exchange for Jaena cleaning up my mess and avoiding the inevitable execution she promised I’d receive otherwise. I didn’t really care what was happening to a royal family across the world.

I quickly survey the room. There is a bedside table and a large canopy bed to my left, with another bedside table on the other side. Along the left wall is a large dresser toward the far wall. The far wall consists of an open door to what looks like a washroom next to the painting, which sits above a long cabinet that runs almost its entire length. Two sofa seats are to my right, next to what I assume must be the door to exit. A plush rug takes up the empty space in the room, and a cold shiver overtakes me, looking at how bare the room is of personal belongings.

I can hear the soft snoring of sleep, and I crawl forward to see the tousled hair of a 16-rev-old boy in his bed. Fortunately, he’s alone.

I crawl further into the room, so I can stand without casting a shadow in his window. Taking both blades from my thighs, I pounce on the kid, using one hand to cover his mouth and the other to hold my knives in his view.

He doesn’t make a sound as I keep my voice low. “Try to scream, and you’ll be dead before it leaves your throat.” He nods.

Sitting on Eryn’s chest, I move a blade to his ribs and one to his throat. My knees keep pressure on his arms.

“How many guards are outside your door?”

“None. Well, not directly. They’re stationed outside my sitting room next door,” he whispers, not even a tremble.

“I don’t want to kill you, but please do not misunderstand. I won’t hesitate if I have to, Prince Eryn.”

“What do you want? My father will not pay a ransom. He would sooner send the Silent Assassin to kill me before rescuing me.”

I blink at him. No love was lost between the prince and his father then. I file that bit of information away to share with the others.“You look resigned to death either way?”

“Well, if you cannot ransom me, what else is there?”

---