Page 191 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Want to have a little fun with Ladomyr?Garrik asked with sadistic delight, brushing his other hand where her death mark remained concealed.

After last night? Alora leaned into his solid chest and pivoted her head, smirking her approval as vicious as his.

“Ladomyr,” Garrik’s voice thundered over the musicians and chatter, rattling the chandeliers and mountain so intensely she didn’t doubt they felt it in the dungeons below. That thing of nightmares transformed his playful voice into something like death. “Get the fuck up here.”

The king’s eyes met hers, the icy crown in her hair, and she imagined he was replaying every word, every action he’d taken in that hallway last evening. Uncertainty and terror surged through his features with every step he suffered until his boots stood feet from the white fabric of her gown.

“Your Highness,” Ladomyr grit out, bowing lower than usual. Smart male.

Like a cat playing with vermin, Garrik allowed him to remain bowing. And she thought it was a cruel game to make one so old and plump as Ladomyr to hunch like that but enjoyed it more than when she made a replica of Soulstryker. This was far sweeter.

“My lady is bored. So am I.” Then firmly spoke over the court. “As luck has it, I am on this throne and not our High King. Bring out the entertainment.” Garrik traced Alora’s forearm. “And you, Ladomyr, fetch her wine.”

Ladomyr turned up his lip but said nothing. He twisted but before he suffered another step?—

“And a plate of sweetened things.” Alora cocked her head, collecting a touch of malice in her features. Garrik’s hand squeezed her hip, nudged his nose into her neck, and growled his approval.

Ladomyr stopped. His glower could’ve sliced the air like sharpened iron.

“If she repeats herself, kingling, you will regret it,” Garrik warned. Shadows seeped from under the throne, coiling around his ankles.

Wisely, Ladomyr descended the dais.

She felt painfully aware of Garrik’s hands. One possessively gripped her hip, the other traced idle circles on her upper thigh, which was exposed by a slit in her gown. Alora didn’t dare think of how with one slip, Garrik’s hand could slip inside. How those fingers would feel?—

A familiar pulse of energy thrummed through her. She knew whatever her High Prince was illusioning for the court wasn’t the same as what was happening on the throne.

She closed her eyes and narrowed on his touch. Dropped her head on his shoulder and hummed softly as that ringed hand squeezed enough that it felt freeing. Not locked in a cage. Not set on a mantel and teased. No expectations or threats or punishments waiting.

Alora angled her face into his neck and nudged her nose against the dried gold paint there. Even with its scent, his intoxicating metal and leather stole her senses. She pressed a kiss there, licking up his taste, feeling his pulse quicken.

Garrik flexed his hips. Reverberating a low growl of pleasure as his head dropped against the throne and fought to keep his eyes open.

Alora playfully nipped his neck, determined to smear the paint down to the dip there. The rigid muscles in his abdomen didn’t tremble as she glided her fingers down him, down to the V of muscles, making it hard for him to breathe.

The restraint on his hands began to shatter. He breathed deep, trembling.I cannot keep my hands off you when you do such dirty things to me.

A devious grin.Dirty…She hummed, continuing her exploration across his upper thigh, and rubbed to the inside.Like this?

Garrik’s rings gleamed in the faelights when he gripped her thigh. The other hungrily palmed her knee, then trailed up, up, up along the inside. Polished steel devoured the sight of her on his lap, slowly flickering up her curves beneath the panels of white fabric and glistening aquamarine and diamonds.

There, in his eyes, a mix of desire and hunger swirled. A tempest waiting to destroy her in all the best ways.

She shuddered a breath when his fingers rubbed against the fabric near her core. Instinctively parting her knees as she fought the quieted moan escaping her lips.

The noise only fueled Garrik to flex his hips beneath her, and she felt his cock solid as iron while those primal male eyes didn’t dare part from hers.

Her resolve shattered against his lips.

The chill of his hands cupped her warm cheek. He met her stroke for stroke, as wild and hungry as the night before.

Breathless against his lips, she knew this was different. Almost as if the air around them was set aflame. An intensity she couldn’t explain every time he touched her.

Garrik kissed her like he spoke to her depths. Slowing them, unhurried so she understood every word, every touch, and treasured every heartbeat and breath.

But he pulled away, stopping all movement in heaving breaths, and dropped his forehead to hers. Teeth gritted with such strength, he seemed to be restraining himself from one more touch. Garrik’s voice broke. “I am …terrifiedof what could happen to you because of who I am.” Panting uncontrollably, his chest muscles outlined in his jacket. “What others will attempt to do, knowing what you mean to me… My darkness… The things I have done…”

Unlovable. Unworthy.He didn’t have to say it. Their tether screamed it loudly enough.

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