Page 12 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Pushing back like a diver coming up for air, he grappled for his cane.
“Must you always do that?” he asked, face reddening. Her hands were gentle again as they rested upon his chest, his neck.
“Do what?” she murmured, petting his cheek. “Don’t you know how delicious your lies are? Tell me one. Tell me two truths and a lie. I want to parse which is which.”
Braam curled his hands around his cane, his thumb finding the familiar groove beneath the raven’s beak. A tremor ran through his arm. “I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Darling Braam,” Madeleif said, lifting her head. “This is a revel. Games are part of the fun.” She laughed lightly. “I never cease to be amazed at how easily riled you are, even after I’ve fulfilled your wildest dreams. The High Fae men I can understand, but you? I always thought you were so clever. And now youcan’t even tell when I’m joking.Braam, I am so deeply disappointed in you.” She shook her head, the curtain of her hair shimmering. “You must make it up to me. I command you to do so immediately. I’m in the mood for something wicked—be creative.”
Braam shifted uncomfortably, not only because of his hip. She’d been wicked enough already. Why did she keep mentioning other men? It had been decades since she’d alluded to other lovers besides Bakker, whose touch left her cold. Braam had actually believed he was her only now, that their love was a mutual exchange.
And then she did not visit him for a year. He didn’t need to be clever to know someone else had caught her eye. If only it were the first time. Each time she found another, she visited him less, then returned. The closest he’d come to turning her away had ended with him pushed against another parlor wall. She was correct: he did not dare to turn her down again.
“Why are you trying to distract me?” he demanded. “I ought to have returned downstairs already.”
“You don’t need to be there, sweetling. Your servants can handle everything.” She tried to look wounded, but that cunning glint would not leave her eye. “Did you ever think I don’t want you to leave? I think I’ve made that quite clear, actually. You know what happens when you try to leave.”
Braam’s resolve cracked. He could feel the heat draining from his face. But the coldness that replaced it was little better.
“How does it feel?” she asked softly, reaching for him and touching his lip, his chest. When her hand moved away, his skin knit back together, warmed by the spark of her magic. “To lie. I’ve always wondered.”
“Like any other words,” he answered, catching her hand. “Only your will is poured into them—the wish for what you desire to be true.”
“Oh, Braam.” Madeleif smiled at him genuinely, warming more of him than the places her magic touched. “Even your lies are sweet.” She leaned forward, kissing his chest. “Was this silver here,” she asked, her lips skimming his otherwise dark chest hair, “when last we met?”
“No,” he answered. He could feel himself falling for her games again.
“Liar.”
“It isn’t a lie.” He fought the urge to grasp her, to try for a third coupling his hip would not withstand. “It’s been a long time, Madeleif. A full year without you is an eternity.”
She paused, brows pressed together. “I had not realized it was so long. Did you wait for me?”
“Always.”
She sighed. “You’ll need an heir someday, Braam. You know I can’t give you one.”
“I know.” He could not take his eyes from her, no matter how much he wished to. “It can wait a little longer.”
“You’re too good for me,” she whispered.
“True.”
“Another lie! I wanted two truths and a lie, not two lies and a truth. You disobedient boy.”
He cracked a smile. “And if I said it isn’t a lie?”
Her laugh was lower, more seductive. She cupped his chin, running her thumb through the light stubble already returning from his morning shave. “You don’t believe that, though I almost wish you did.”
Braam’s heart thumped. She could not lie. With a statement that direct, she must’ve meant it. She still felt some shred of respect for him. But why did it always feel as though she danced between humiliating him and expressing her love?
“One day you’ll be sick of me,” Madeleif murmured, pausing to leave a lingering kiss on his lips. “And I’ll be distraught. There are so many things I can do with you that I can’t with Bakker. Or that I’ve long since ceased wanting to. In fact, I’d like to show you all the places I touch you that I no longer touch him—all the things I do with you alone.”
His throat tightened. “Madeleif, I can’t.”
“What’s wrong, sweet Braam? Did I hurt you? Is there something else I need to fix?” As she questioned him, she reached between them, hand caressing his thigh as it had so many years ago. “Perhaps this fellow?”
He pulled away.
