Page 163 of Burn

More than that, I felt the moment expand into something pivotal. Standing on the margins of the bonfire ball, the princess must have too, because she braced herself. “We once talked about how ancient cultures performed no ceremony.”

They simply found a place that was meaningful to them.

And there they made a promise, traded a token, and fucked until dawn.

Air rushed from my lungs. “Aye. I do recall that.”

“So then.” Briar extended her hand. “Come and marry me.”

51

Briar

Our horses pounded across the pasture, their hooves drumming into the earth. Tossing me a feral look, Poet leaned deep into his mount and kicked the creature into full speed beside me. My heart rammed into my chest, an all-encompassing need driving me forward. I matched the jester’s pose, whispered to the mare, and flew through the maples.

Racing toward the glinting castle, our momentum matched. Together, we left the revels behind and galloped through the night fog at a ferocious pace. Poet threw himself into the ride, and I kept up with his velocity.

My loose hair flared behind me, the wind dashed through my dress, and my knees shook. I could have laughed out loud. I could have shouted with triumph. Instead, I kept quiet, hellbent on reaching the empty stronghold.

The castle stood uninhabited. Vacant. Secluded. No one there but us.

The jester’s long black coat flapped behind him like wings, his corresponding leather pants outlined those powerful limbs, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the reins. With that tousled dark hair and the painted diamond spearing through one eye, he resembled a phantom king, manifested from the pages of lore.

My sinful counterpart. My dark jester.

All. Fucking. Mine.

So easily, this man drew profanities to the edge of my tongue. So effortlessly, he inspired me to lustful cravings. So thoroughly, he owned my soul.

Perspiration bridged down my back. My joints tingled, heat swirled in the rift between my thighs, and every part of me throbbed to life.

Skidding to a halt in the main courtyard, I threw myself off the mare just as Poet’s boots hit the ground. With a desperate gasp, I twisted his way at the same time the jester snatched my ass and hauled me against him. I grabbed his jaw and lunged his lips down to mine, our mouths crashing together.

Poet growled, his tongue flaying between my lips, prying me open. He swabbed into me, licking every moan that broke from my lungs. I hefted my own mouth against his, taking the kiss, taking all of it.

The jester pitched that hot tongue in and out, crushing his mouth to mine, feasting on my whimpers. Like this, we stumbled up the stairs and smashed through the castle doors. Our panting echoed into the cavernous halls, torches and towering fireplaces sketched us in molten light, and our heels scuffed the floor.

Kicking off our boots, we staggered from the entrance and into the west thoroughfare. With my mouth adhered to Poet’s, I grabbed his collar and thrust him against the nearest wall.

His husky grunt melted into a chuckle. That sexy snaggletooth poked from his lips like a hidden gem.

My own laugh came out ravenous, breathless, and greedy. I grinned into that alluring mouth, then lapped my tongue over his slanted tooth. Sliding past his incisors, I ingested the flavor of red wine, a frenzy of decadent spices, and every indecent word he’d ever said to me. Seasons, I adored the taste of him.

I wanted all of it. The blasphemous and impure. The provocative and protective. The darkness and lightness. In kind, I wanted him to have all of me.

My fingers grasped the closures of his shirt and yanked. The fabric tore, the clamor of shredded velvet slicing down the passage. Poet hummed in enthusiasm, the masculine noise sent my temperature rising, and the folds of my pussy dampened, seeping through my drawers so that I felt my thighs go slick. His torso flared from the material, the stack of his abdomen clenching and those nipples toughening under my gaze.

Unable to stay still, we traveled down the dimly lit channel. On the way, we ripped off Poet’s coat and shirt, firelight illuminating the expansive planes of his chest.

Passing through another hallway, I fastened him to a wood column. There, I spread my palms over his smooth skin, thumbing his nipples and skating down his ribs, the steel plate of his muscles hitching beneath my touch. That rampant pulse accelerated as I skidded my fingers along every sculpted inch, leaving no bit of flesh neglected.

Pushing me away, Poet stapled his forehead to mine, spanned my buttocks with one hand, and steered me backward through the corridor. Chuffing shallow air, we careened deeper into the wing. The jester’s irises glittered, flooding my vision with fiendish green, the shade burning through this muted castle.

His free digits knifed into my hair and tightened on the roots. “Have I mentioned how cruel it is of you to wear this gown?”

I flicked my tongue against his lips. “Then take it off me.”

Poet’s gaze went up in flames. With a hiss, he wheeled me around, snaked his arm around my midriff, and severed the laces of my bodice in seconds. Black, glossy fingernails flashed in the half-light as he worked the top portion of my gown, the garment splaying apart to reveal a transparent camisole.

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