Page 93 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

“Good, now you can touch your clit. Use one finger, and do it gently. Imagine I’m touching you.”

She looked at me then, and I relished her whimper, and the raw desire in her eyes. The tension coiled between us, a serpent waiting to strike, potent and primordial.

“Are you going to come for me, love?”

“Mmmhmm,” she moaned.

“Ask my permission. You should always ask to get what you want.”

She kept rubbing, and I watched her hungrily, as she leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. “May I come?”

“Yes, love.”

She opened her mouth in a silent scream, her face scrunching up almost as if she were in pain. Then, the moment stretched taut—a bowstring pulled to its limit, then her back arched, and the air itself vibrated with the force of her climax. The sight was a revelation, a tapestry of ecstasy woven from the threads of restraint and longing.

When finally she came down, she looked up at me with some combination of apprehension and expectation painted across her face.

“Well done,” I praised her.

I grabbed her hand, and pulled it toward me. Her eyes widened, when I sucked her fingers into my mouth. Gods, she tasted like magic and damnation.

She pulled her hand back, breathing heavily.

“Don’t you want…” she trailed off, her question hanging in the air.

Ignoring my own aching cock, I reached for her, wrapping her in my arms. “Not tonight, love. Tonight, I just want you to sleep.”

She laughed softly into the darkness. “If I didn’t know better, I’d call you a liar.”

“But you do know better,” I pointed out.

I moved us both to the center of the bed, and held her there, petting her hair, until her breathing evened out.

“Ask me what I’m thinking,” Lonnie said.

I froze. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m a terrible person.”

I raised an eyebrow. She was far from that, but what would make her think so? “Why?”

“Because I think I must be fated to destroy your family. I already left your brother and cousin to make sure that my presence wouldn’t kill them, and now you’re being…like this,” she waved her hand aimlessly in the air. “And I’m wondering if I’ll end up killing you all, anyway.”

My eyes went wide. Somewhere in there, between all the guilt and self-loathing, I was fairly sure she was admitting to wanting me.

I wished I could reassure her, except, I was fairly certain she was right.

If history was anything to go by, then she probably would end up killing me—all of us—in the end.

I only hoped the sacrifice would be worth it.

37

LONNIE

UNDERNEATH

The following morning, the predawn sky was a brooding tapestry of purples and grays as Ambrose and I made our way down to join the king’s hunting party.

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