Page 23 of The Court of Truth

“After you, Troublemaker.”

My nickname on his lips fills me with reassurance that he’s okay, and with that, I climb in, watching as he follows before closing the door behind him, and we’re suddenly moving.

I look at him with raised brows but he simply shrugs, collapsing into the seat beside me as he throws his arm out around my shoulder and tugs me into his side.

I’m waiting for him to speak, to unload, anything, but the silence stretches between us as the carriage slowly moves down the path. It’s on the tip of my tongue to question him, but I think better of it as I lean into him and bask in the moment.

Time passes in a blur around us as we stay grounded in the carriage. Our breathing becomes one, the rhythm of our heartbeats fall in sync, and the two of us relax.

Relax.

I forgot what the word even meant, but the last place I expected to find it was tucked in the back of a carriage.

“Is the carriage going anywhere in particular?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“It’s too dangerous to head off the grounds right now, so we’re just going around and around the castle perimeter,” he explains, making me scoff in disbelief.

“So we’re going in a loop with no destination?” I muse, a lightness settling in my chest as he hums in agreement.

“Oh, I have a destination,” he states, his eyelids fluttering closed as a soft smile forms over his lips.

“And where is that?”

He pries one eye open, smirking at me in a way that makes my thighs clench before he even speaks. “Your sweet pussy.”

My tongue sweeps over my bottom lip as I blink at him, watching as the all-out shudder transforms his face. There’s a dark heat in his eyes, a tic to his jaw, and an air of arrogance that surrounds him.

Classic Raiden. Classic vampire.

“In the back of this carriage?” I clarify, and he doesn’t even offer me a nod.

“I can’t take you off the castle grounds, and I run the risk of having to share you in there,” he grunts, the corner of his lip kicking up in a sneer. “Today has been a long fucking day, too long if you ask me, and I thought to myself, ‘What will make it better? How can I escape and find peace, even if only for a minute?’ And the answer, as it always fucking will be, is you.” He offers me his hand, palm up as he remains slouched against the seat.

“Are you fucking me as a distraction?” I ask, not turned off by the thought, more intrigued by where his head is at.

“Would it matter if I was?”

“Not even a little. I just want to know,” I answer honestly, and he eyes me for a moment before he offers me a response.

“Fucking you as a distraction wouldn’t have been as premeditated as this. I wouldn’t care about the carriage. I wouldn’t be sitting here waiting to a make a move because I’m worried you’re not okay after whatever the fuck that was down there. If this was a distraction, I would have fucked you over the dining table without a single thought for anyone else there.”

I grin. I love seeing this side of Raiden. It’s a rarity, but an addictive one.

His words aren’t evenly paced like a well-honed speech, his emotions cling to every word, and his heart races faster and faster—the sound of it something I never got to experience before my wolf senses. Despite all that, I can feel his body tugging at mine through our fated mates' bond.

“What if it’s a distraction for me?” I breathe, the words laced with truth as I nervously sink my teeth into my lip.

A grin spreads across his face, like the fact might excite him. “Adrianna, I’m never going to turn down an excuse to slip inside you, but we both know this isn’t a distraction.” His hand still remains in the air, palm waiting for mine.

The air grows thicker, the tension rising, and before I even realize it, my fingers splay across his.

I’m in his lap before I can take my next breath.

“Lose the clothes, Adrianna,” he rumbles, gripping my thighs as my knees settle on either side of his hips.

My breath stutters in my chest at his command, and I reach for the zipper of my fitted jacket, the noise echoing in the carriage as I peel it down my arms and toss it aside. My t-shirt goes next, and he eyes the black lace covering my breasts like a gift.

His left hand rises, tracing over the swell of my chest, along the edge of the material, and I can’t stop the goosebumps from rising in his wake.

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