Page 116 of Gemini Kings
Trying to keep my mind on my business, I coax out a question mark (the key is reluctant and sticking), manually return the carriage, and prepare to embark on a fresh paragraph.
This task proves very difficult, because now Ronin Pendragon is drifting in my direction. Moving slowly, he circles the table, the fingers of one hand gliding across the surface.
And all I can think about is how sinful those fingers would feel gliding across my skin.
Softly he steals up beside me.
I concentrate fiercely just to type and not to stiffen.
No worries, mate.His silky tenor slides through my thoughts.Not going to trouble your back.
“It is… no trouble… when I permit it.” The words are thick in my throat, but they are true. I enjoyed Zara’s touch on my back last night, once I accustomed myself to it.
Would I be permitted, then? If I wanted?Ronin asks.
I sneak an upward look at Vasili, who appears to be utterly engrossed in his reading, just as he has been all night. Yet I am under no delusion that my viperish teacher is unaware of any tiny detail that transpires here between his cherished lover and his hated rival.
I clear my throat and say hoarsely, “Yes.”
“Good dragon,” Ronin whispers.
My beast purrs for him.
Ronin trails the very tips of two fingers lightly up my biceps to graze the deltoid muscle. I have changed from my torn uniform into the familiar comfort of my worn tee shirt, so the heat of his touch scorches my bare skin.
He is ours, Maxim,my dragon puffs through a ribbon of steam.We have been waiting for this one. It is no sin for us to claim him.
My dragon knows nothing of morality. He cares nothing for propriety. He possesses nothing like a conscience.
He is a creature of animal instinct and visceral need.
I swallow hard and focus on finishing the sentence I am toiling over, before the thought flies out of my head entirely. This becomes even more difficult when those two Pendragon fingers sneak under my worn sleeve to trace the flex of my triceps and glide over the thin line of one of my scars.
Goosebumps sheet across my shoulders and my breath snags.
Now typing is completely out of the question.
I can barely even breathe.
“Easy,” Ronin whispers, so softly, under the fire’s crackle. “You’re all right.”
“Yes.” I bow my head under his touch. My dragon, too, lies down for him.
We submit together to this graceful touch that strokes over the bridge of my shoulder, covered by the worn cotton, then glides across the naked back of my neck. I am thankful beyond words for the concealing barrier of the table between us, because a tingling heat is rushing to my groin. Does he know… does he know how much I want him… how much I want him to share what I will have with Zara…?
I’m a telepath.His warm voice in my head is amused.There isn’t much I don’t know. But there can never be anything like that between us, love. Not unless you and Vasili—
“Finished with your essay?” Vasili’s serrated voice curls through the air like a whiplash. “Let’s see if what you’ve written is any good.”
“Yes—I am—nearly finished.” Hastily I tap out a few closing words while Ronin drops his hand and recedes out of reach with a secret smile that only distracts me worse. I sense that he enjoys teasing me like this, teasing both of us, watching both of us lose our minds over him.
Truly, this man threatens to cause more trouble than Helen of Troy.
With all this tension bristling in the air, Vasili and I will be launching flights of flaming arrows at each other and rolling out the Trojan horse in no time—
“Stop ogling him and bring that essay here,” Vasili snaps.
I am dutifully unrolling my typed essay from the carriage when the electric whiff of roses and arousal floods into the room, accompanied by the quick echo of my sovereign’s hurried step. My entire body tingles with the charge of her presence.
