Page 77 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

Provided that’s still what he wants, of course. But I know a sure way to find out.

Chapter

Forty-Four

While Nemeth sleeps off the pain, I try to stay busy. It’s a warm day so I set the fire in the kitchens and watch as my sister’s letter burns. I feel nothing but anger towards her. Anger and a hint of resentment. She’s telling me I’m a coward? Asking me to put my kingdom first? Haven’t I done that by my presence here in this tower? Aren’t I giving the next seven years to my dragon-shite-loving kingdom?

Well, they get no more than that from me.

I set my potion’s ingredients to boil over the fire and then head for the doors. Curiosity—and a little worry—drive me to go and stand in front of them. The knives I’ve wedged into the doorjambs remain in place, the ropes around the handles tight. I’ve brought a broom with me and shove the long handle of it through the metal of the door handles to act as a bar. It doesn’t feel like enough, though. Even now, I can feel a hint of air blow in at the hinges and light leaks in from the tiniest cracks.

Pressing my ear to the door, I wait to hear the sound of voices, of more men coming back to attack the tower. It’s quietoutside, but that doesn’t mean someone won’t return again. If they come back with enough men, no doors in the world will stop them. This is merely a stopgap, and not much of one. Without the bricks on the other side, the tower feels open and oddly vulnerable. Anyone could get in.

I could unblock the door and leave at any time.

I put my hand on the wood. It feels warm and pleasant and not nearly solid enough. To think that the first week I was here, I was absolutely frantic to get out. That I begged Balon to remove the bricks from the doors and save me.

I could walk out right now, a year later…and I won’t.

Not because I want to stay for the good of Lios. But because Nemeth is here and I want to be with him.

After I givemyself my injection and clean up the kitchens, I head upstairs. Nemeth is sprawled in bed, asleep, his big, thick legs taking up the majority of the mattress. I watch him for a moment, then set the lamp across the room and tap it once to dim it. I want to be able to see what I’m doing. Gathering my skirts, I slip off my shoes and crawl into bed next to Nemeth. I carefully avoid his wing, easing the blankets down his hips. By the gods, he’s so beautiful. How did I think he was monstrous when I first saw him? He’s nothing but thick slabs of dark grey muscle, and the strength in his body calls out to me, begging to be appreciated.

Lucky for him, I know just how to appreciate a good-looking body.

I lean over him and kiss his chest. I tell myself that he should probably wake up and eat dinner. That I need to check hiswound. They feel like excuses, because in all reality, I just want to touch him. I want to show him that I’m with him.

That I’ve made up my mind to be his mate.

I press another kiss to a strong pectoral. He’s remained in excellent shape despite the fact that we’re trapped in here, and I suspect a lot of it is due to the fact that he performs his exercises daily, stretching and maneuvering, as well as carrying heavy supplies up and down the stairs constantly. I appreciate his strength, and I certainly appreciate the muscles it builds. I’ve always been a soft creature, coddled by my nurses, and when Erynne was out riding horses, I was told to sit by the fire with a blanket. I’ve always felt a little weak compared to my sister, but Nemeth doesn’t make me feel like a problem. He makes me feel like I’m someone to be cherished, to be cosseted and taken care of. That he appreciates me despite my shortcomings.

Well, I do have a few talents, and I plan on showing them to him.

I kiss lower down his chest, hovering over his navel.

He makes a low sound in his throat, his big frame shifting on the bed.

My hands go to his belt and I tug at it, loosening the buckle and then pulling it free. Without the belt, his kilt falls from his hips, revealing the wrap he wears over his groin. After watching him dress, I know that a tug in the right spot will pull everything undone, and I waste no time in unwrapping him from his clothes, like a feast day present.

And then he’s naked, sprawled underneath me. His cock rests against his thigh, growing harder as I gaze down at him. I see the ridge at the base of his cock that will become his knot, and the pointed tip of his shaft. Gods, he’s pretty. I sigh happily at the sight of him, and his cock twitches at the sound.

“Candra?” He sounds fuzzy and confused.

“I made dinner,” I tell him, lowering my head to kiss the flat plane below his navel. His cock stirs again, almost brushing my face. “And I wanted to wake you up with your reward…unless you want me to stop.”

He rolls fully onto his back, his strangely bent legs spreading ever so slightly to invite me in. “I am no fool.”

“Mmm.” I grip his shaft in my hand and skim my fingers over him, loving the way he strains against my touch. He’s fully erect now, the head of his cock flushed and inviting. “I’ve also been doing some thinking.”

Nemeth’s breath catches as I give the head of his cock a lick. His claws fist into the blankets, digging at the material.

I suppose that’s a decent an answer as any. He’s listening, that’s for certain. I lick a stripe down the side of his shaft, and sigh with pleasure at the feel of his hot, turgid length in my grip. There’s something so delightful about an erect cock that just begs to be squeezed and nibbled on. I love the feel of it, and I love his responses, too. Gripping the base of him, I rub the pad of my thumb against his knot, trying to get it to balloon. It feels hot and tight under my hand, but hasn’t yet descended. Fascinated, I work his cock with my tongue, trying to get the knot to extend. I tease his tip, dipping it into my mouth and slicking it with my saliva. A salty burst on my tongue tells me that he’s leaking pre-cum and I lap at him, making humming noises of appreciation as I do.

“You…” he groans, one enormous hand moving to the top of my head. It hesitates there, and when I suck harder on the tip of him, his hips jerk and he drives up into my mouth. “You…you were…thinking?”

Ah. Right. I run my tongue along the underside of the head. “I was. I was thinking that my answer is yes.”

He groans as I nibble down the underside of his shaft, nipping at his foreskin and then running my tongue over histight sac. “For the life of me, Candra, I cannot remember the question.”

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