Page 31 of The Nymph Prince
All I’d done was kiss Lorcan, but I wanted so much more with him. If he and Troy were together… what chance did I have? They had years of being close, whereas I only had weeks with the nymph in comparison.
Suddenly, my appetite diminished, and I had to force myself to keep chewing the piece of fish I’d shoved into my mouth prior to the upsetting thought.
I didn’t need to be hungry to drink wine, though, and I downed a large gulp of it. Numbing my mind for a while was the best plan I’d had all day.
Once my goblet was drained, a servant came over and refilled it. I thanked her before taking another drink.
Throughout our travels, Lorcan said I hadn’t lived until I’d tried ambrosia laced spirits. The wine wasn’t ambrosia, but it was still better than any I’d ever had before. It was sweet and just a little tart. A perfect balance of both and not too dry. I could only imagine what the ambrosia tasted like.
“I’ve known him ever since we were young boys,” Troy said. His tone was friendlier. “He’s more like my brother than a friend.” Violet eyes flashed to mine. “And I will protect him with my final breath. So if you hurt him, I’ll have no problem ripping your throat out.”
So much for being friendly.
“Noted,” I responded. It wasn’t the first time I’d been threatened over it.
Malik made a noise from behind us, and I didn’t have to see his face to know there’d be an arrogant smile there.
After the feast, the people stood, moved the tables to the other side of the room, and danced in the center to the sounds of harps, lutes, and drums.
It was interesting to compare their customs to that of the people in the above world. The similarity was found in the musical instruments, but not in the music itself. The melody that played throughout the Great Hall was mystical and caused the body to rock from side to side. And thewaythey danced was different.
In the human world, the dancing was in a particular formation—unless you were in the taverns found in rundown towns and villages. In Avalontis, the way of dance rang of sensuality. Of lust. The women rolled their bodies, as did the men, and hands roamed all over exposed skin.
King Triton remained seated, watching the celebration, and Lorcan did the same. Maybe it’d be seen as improper for them to join in on the celebration.
Such a shame, too. I would’ve loved to see Lorcan dance.
As the nymph watched the dancers, I saw that spark return to his eyes. I wondered if the spark was from the wish to join them in the dance…or arousal from the lust their dance flared to life.
Moving my gaze back to the people, I noticed even more how sensual they moved. The women bared their necks as their partner leaned in and nipped at their throats. They rutted together, hands glided along cords of muscle and along the swells of breasts, and fingers laced in the material of their clothing.
I took another drink of wine and tried to quench my thirst. But it was not the thirst for drink that plagued me, but rather, a thirst to taste Lorcan again. And a hunger to bury myself inside him.
Green eyes flickered to mine, and that hunger in my belly grew. Dark lashes surrounded the emerald gems and his thin brows pulled together as our gazes remained locked.
Lorcan’s skin was radiant, and from the memory of caressing his cheek, I knew it felt just as soft as it looked. The short, silver strands of his hair swooped a little and showed the tops of his pointed ears.
Most of the other merfolk kept their hair medium to long in length, yet he went against the crowd. That’s also when I noticed another change. I looked at Troy, who watched the dancers with interest, before moving my gaze to a stern Malik, more of the guards, and then to the other people.
No one else had pointed ears. Only Lorcan.
“Why do you stare?” he asked as that spark in his eyes burned brighter. His pink lips parted.
“Because I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”
My words caught me off guard.
In my years of fucking around in brothels, no one had ever brought out that side of me. I was happy with fucking and moving on, never falling victim to ridiculous notions such as romance and love. But I found myself pining after Lorcan, begging for anything he’d give me; a simple brushing of his hand, a locked gaze, or a soft kiss.
His heart.
His heart?I shook my head at the thought.
All the wine I’d consumed must’ve been making me sappy.
A blush colored his cheeks and he looked at his goblet, running his finger along the side of it. But then his gaze lifted and he gave me a sly smile. “Do you think by talking sweet to me you’ll find your way into my bed, mage?”
The celebration continued around us, noise and music filling the air, but all I heard was the racing of my pulse, the slight quickening of my breath as I visualized all the filthy, lustful things I’d love to do to him in said bed.
