Page 6 of A Frozen Pyre
She could feel the warmth of his breath as he chuckled lightly beside her. “Well, far be it from me to keep you from sleep,” he said, rolling her onto her back with a quiet, gentle motion so as not to wake the woman beside her.
She bit her lip as she felt his mouth begin to move against her throat, then her breasts. There was a quiet, sucking sound before she inhaled sharply. A tingle went down her spine as warmth flooded her. He’d slipped one, then two fingers within her. Her back arched off the bed. One knee bent upward while the other stiffened, outstretched. His opposite hand returned to her hair, bringing his face close to hers as he whispered, “If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to stop. Understood?”
She nodded, biting her lip until it nearly drew blood as he slowly filled her.
Dwyn turned over in her sleep, and they stilled. Tyr’s hand covered Ophir’s mouth as she turned to watch the half-asleep shape of the woman beside them.
“Firi?” Dwyn asked through a nearly delirious haze ofsleep. Her eyes remained closed as her hand stretched out, seeking Ophir.
Ophir slipped her hand up and their fingers intertwined.
Satisfied, Dwyn snuggled back into her pillow and returned to her deep and restful slumber.
It was all Ophir could do not to squeeze down on the fingers that held her as Tyr moved within her. Her free hand dug into his back, channeling all her building tension into the skin beneath her nails. She tore five achingly slow ribbons into the man above her as his fingers continued to work within her. His lips, his tongue, his mouth moved over hers, kisses wet, hot, and silent.
Fuck, his hand moved with rhythm, with power, with authority.
She sucked in a breath and held it as she crested climax. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, not understanding why he stopped moments before orgasm. She cracked her eyes open, releasing the breath she’d been holding, only to see where her hand sparked with embers against his back.
Horrified, she yanked her hand away. She immediately extinguished the early signs of her uncontrolled flame and searched for his face.
“Are you okay?” she breathed.
His laugh, though quiet, was unmistakable.
“Hang on. Ask me in twenty minutes.”
“Twenty min—”
He slipped out of her slowly, and she was instantly worried that she’d injured him more than he’d let on. But rather than return to the space next to her, she felt his body move farther and farther down the length of her until his lips grazed her inner thighs.
She would be sleeping very, very well that night.
Two
Tyr smiled to himself as he woke, the taste of sunshine still onhis tongue. He’d learned at a young age how to stay between things even while sleeping—an ability that had come in handy on more than one occasion. His smile faltered at the sight of Ophir’s fingers still interlaced with Dwyn’s. He knew that Ophir cared for Dwyn, and that in theory, she was safer beside Dwyn than anywhere in the world.
He was sure that Dwyn had feelings for Ophir, too, but not in the way that a human or fae cared for one they loved. It was the sort of care a goblin might have for their gold, or a viper might have for its lair. He also knew that he would trade almost anything to be able to slit the witch’s throat where she slept and put an end to her wretched life. But if Dwyn hadn’t found a way to break the bond that prevented them from ending one another, then it couldn’t be done.
He hated lying to Ophir, even more so when it came in the form of lying to protect Dwyn’s agenda.
He wasn’t staying invisible because Dwyn couldn’t tell a convincing lie.
He had to stay out of sight because Dwyn had told a series of lies so sinister, so manipulative, that they’d never get out from beneath her cobwebs of deceit if they couldn’t gainthe upper hand.
For a little while, that meant she had to believe she’d successfully done away with him.
The frown stayed on his face as he slipped out from underneath the sheets and assessed the room. Though they’d arrived in the light of day, the siren had spent too much time shrewdly inspecting the women’s newfound quarters for him to truly investigate the space without risking detection.
He brushed strands of hair away from Ophir’s face with unseen fingers, sighing as he looked down at her.
How was he supposed to help her?
He’d expected to aid in her quest for vengeance against those responsible for Caris’s murder, but after Berinth’s death, Ophir had gone uncharacteristically silent regarding her original mission. No talk of finding and destroying killers. No schemes for bringing the responsible parties to justice.
At first, he’d wondered if Ophir only remained quiet in Dwyn’s presence, but Ophir hadn’t spoken about it when the siren slept, either.
His frown deepened as he stared at the princess. She was perhaps the most powerful person on the continent. Maybe she’d ceased speaking of such things because she didn’t need his help. Perhaps all she needed to solve things on her own was the complete picture. But how could Ophir possibly be safe from the siren once Dwyn knew that she was no longer in control? He wouldn’t gamble Ophir’s safety against Dwyn’s impulsive, greedy rage, especially if the only toll was his own suffering conscience.
