Page 54 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

The knot under my hand hardens and suddenly balloons, and I can guess what that means. I pull back, tonguing Nemeth’s cock with a wet mouth and sweeping licks of my tongue. “Do you want to come on my face or in my throat?”

He growls, his back bowing, and then he’s spurting across my parted lips, the orgasm wringing from him with such violence that his claws dig into my hair. Men do love the sight of a woman tonguing their cock, and it’s never failed to make a lover come in the past. I give him small, kittenish licks as his seed fountains out, coating my hands and lips and the front of my sleeping-gown. He tastes good—musky and not quite as bitterly acidic as I’ve had in the past, which I appreciate. I rub his knot as he comes, and each time I give it a squeeze, I’m rewarded with another burst of semen, so I work it until his arched back collapses and he heaves a great, gusty sigh.

I give him a few more licks and then press a kiss to the top of his cock. “I’ll get a towel.”

“What…what was that?” he asks, dazed, as I get up from the bed.

I’m tempted to retort that it’s more leverage, to see if he’ll fling me down onto the bed and give me my share. But then again, I want him to touch me because he wants it, not because he imagines he must. So I simply smile and lick my lips. “Happy birthday.”

“My…what?”

Clearly when he comes, his brains get scrambled. “Your birthday,” I repeat again. “The felicitous occasion of your entrance into this world. You said it was today. Do you not remember our conversation? You said you don’t celebrate it after manhood, so I thought I might give you an adult sort of celebration.” I flutter my lashes at him. “Did my method of waking you meet with your approval?”

The look he sends my way is utterly dazed and I think yes, yes it does.

My scholar is clearly not a great thinker once his cock is drained. I find this adorable.

Chapter

Thirty-Four

Since we’ve nothing but time in the tower, I decide that today is a special day.

Nemeth takes care of me regularly, so today I shall take care of him. I make a midday meal…poorly. And since we have no supplies to spare, we have to eat it. Somehow, though, it doesn’t bother us. Nemeth is touched that I try, and teases that I should actually look at Riza’s book of recipes next time instead of just guessing.

I sing him a birthday song (again, badly) and work on mending the hem of his favorite cloak while he reads his favorite book aloud to me. I offer to make him dinner that night, but Nemeth prefers to cook it himself. I do the washing up instead, and Nemeth tends to his mushroom farm that grows on the strange board. He’s had to move it to the storage rooms since they prefer darkness and I need the lights.

All in all, it’s a lovely sort of day. Nothing outside of the usual (other than my morning greeting to him), but pleasant anyhow.

Before bed, I present him with a cake of my favorite soap, scented with lavender. “If you ask nicely, I might even offer to wash you,” I tease, earning myself a wing flutter and a smile.

We get ready for bed and Nemeth taps the globes, one by one, turning off the lights and leaving the room in darkness. He climbs into bed next to me, and I hold my breath. Now, I wonder, will he touch me? Kiss me?

By all the gods, I wouldlovefor him to haul me against him and kiss the sense out of me.

Nothing happens, though, and I worry for a moment that he’s not interested. That I’ve misjudged somehow and the more I chase, the less he wants me. That I’m only a convenient mouth and nothing more, and that any man would have responded to the way I woke him up.

For a moment, I panic.

Then I remember the knife, and all the times it told me he was touching himself to thoughts of me. He does like me. I haven’t been imagining it. Something’s holding him back, though. Shyness? Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe he’s shy…or waiting for dawn so he can wake me up in a similar fashion.

I squeeze my thighs together at the thought. Oh, it is going to be so incredibly hard to sleep tonight if that’s the case.

“Thank you,” Nemeth says, voice soft in the darkness. “For today.”

“You’re welcome.” I mean it, too. I’ve enjoyed making him feel special. I can tell he’s not used to anyone doting on him, and I’m not used to doting on anyone myself, but I think we both had a lot of fun today. “It’s probably terrible to say this, but I’m glad you’re here with me. I don’t think I would have lasted this long without you, and the thought of spending the next seven years here with you at my side isn’t so bad.”

“Six,” he corrects. “It’s almost six now.”

“Almost six isn’t six, though. I’ll celebrate when we get our next round of food.” I smile into the inky black of the room, hugging the blanket to my chest. He hasn’t pulled me against him yet, which means he’s either not ready to sleep…or he’shard. I find I’m not ready to sleep yet, either, so I turn on my side and face him.

The bed creaks and the mattress shifts, and then his green, glowing eyes blink to life in the darkness, telling me that he’s facing me, too.

I bite my lip, wondering if he’ll kiss me now. Ever since I touched him this morning, he’s been quiet. At first I thought it was simply that he was blown away by my generosity (and by having his cock sucked for the first time in his life) but what if he’s unhappy? What if that’s why he’s silent? “Are you all right?” I ask, unable to hold it in any longer. “You’ve been a little silent all day and I worry I’ve upset you now that I have leverage over you again.”

I keep my words teasing, but I feel vulnerable. If he’s offended in some way or wants me to stop touching him, I’ll definitely be hurt. Back at court, if someone bothered me, I could avoid them. Here in the tower…he’s all that I have for company. There’ll be no coming back from this if I’ve made him uncomfortable.

Nemeth chuckles, but the sound is awkward. “It’s not you. Please don’t think that.”

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