Page 70 of Throne of Dreams
She studied the handsome planes of his face. The way his brow was drawn, the way he carefully crafted every emotion and kept them in check behind a cool façade of indifference.
“I see.” Above them, the mural mimicked that of a summer storm. Dark, broody clouds. Slashes of bold lightning. The hiss of cold rain against overheated rooftops. “I thought you said no other male will touch me since I bear your mark?”
“That won’t stop them from flirting,” he countered.
“And what of you?” Her head tilted in question, daring him to contradict her. “Am I to assume my mark upon you will deter other females? Or will they still attempt to bed you?”
He grazed his knuckles across the swell of her breasts and played with her necklace dangling there. “Are you feeling envious, High Princess?”
It didn’t slip her attention that he avoided the question, and she locked her spine into place, angling her chin. “No.”
She wasn’t jealous. Not really. But if he was hers, if they were fated to one another, then she’d be damned if she’d let another female touch him. The guests for Sunatalis would arrive soon. A day or two at most. And if their current conversation was any inclination, she would be prepared to stand her ground.
“So tell me, High Princess,” Tiernan barricaded her against the wall, giving her no space to escape or even breathe. He planted both of his hands on either side of her head, trapping her. “What will you do if a male corners you when you’re alone?”
“What makes you think I’ll be alone?”
“Answer the question.”
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I’ll call to you.”
There was a flash of emotion in his eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. “What if I’m unable to answer your call?”
She didnotcare for this discussion at all.
Maeve was already well aware of how completely out of control fae celebrations could get, especially if what she’d witnessed in the Autumn Court was any indication. But what she didn’t like was the way Tiernan implied that she would somehow fall victim to a male’s sexual desire.
She was no damsel in distress. She wasn’t a princess in need of rescuing from an ivory tower. She’d proven time and again she could handle herself. Maeve Ruhdneah feared nothing. Yet the fact he broached this topic made her gut seize.
She glared up at him. “What are you implying, Tiernan?”
“I’m High King of the Summer Court, Maeve. This ismyparty. I have to play the part of a proper host.” He tucked a curl of her hair back into place. “I simply want to make sure no harm comes to you just because someone thinks I’m not looking.”
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, ready to strike. “You know damn well there will be blood on my hands before anyone, male or female, dares to touch me.”
The lines of his face hardened. “Humor me.”
“Fine.” She huffed out a breath of frustration. “I’ll ask him what game he thinks he’s playing, because I will never be someone’s pawn ever again.”
“And if he persists?”
“He won’t.”
“What if he does this?” Tiernan grabbed her wrists and yanked them over her head, holding her in place with one hand while the other stole down the front of her leggings, groping her.
“Then I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Maeve’s jaw clenched until her teeth ached. She refused to be deterred. If he wanted to know the true strength of her ability to defend herself, then she would show him exactly what to expect. “Or face my wrath.”
She slammed her head into the bridge of his nose, grinning when he muttered a vile swear under his breath. His grip loosened for barely a second and it was the only opportunity she needed. She twisted out of his grasp and ducked low, swinging her elbow so it collided with his stomach and even though he grunted, it felt as though she’d hit a brick wall. Pain rippled up her arm, but she ignored it. Dropping onto the ground, she snatched her Aurastone from its sheath, popped up behind him, and leapt onto his back. Tiernan stumbled forward, and she twisted her hand into his hair, jerking his head backward. Without hesitation, she pressed the blade of her dagger to his throat.
Chest heaving, she spoke softly into his ear. “Do not trifle with me, my lord.”
“You’re entirely too tempting when you’re pissed off.” Tiernan laughed but recovered faster than she expected. He reached overhead, snared her by the shoulders, and threw her over top of him.
She landed on the desk, wincing as the impact stole her breath. Before she could retaliate, he spun around and covered her body with his own. With both hands, he clutched the fabric of her bodice and tore it in half. Beads and gemstones skittered around her and onto the floor like a shattered rainbow. Roughened palms grabbed her breasts, and she locked her legs around his hips. He flicked his thumbs back and forth over her nipples until they turned into perky pink buds. Maeve arched into his touch, desperate for the feel of him. He sucked her nipple into the hot confines of his mouth. His tongue swirled and when his teeth lightly scraped and bit the sensitive flesh there, Maeve ignited.
“You won’t let anyone touch you like this,” he growled.
Not a question. A command.
