The prince wasn’t finished though as his lips swept up Remy’s neck again, “and then we can finally go see what else that terrible mouth can do.”
As he spoke, his hand dipped under the fabric of Remy’s dress, across her belly. His thumb skimmed the exposed skin as he pulled her more tightly into him. Remy moaned softly.
Bern choked on his drink.
“Damn. Maybe you should throw your witch in the pot.” He chortled. “She’d be worth a few more hands.”
“The ring is a good prize, but if the choice was between her and immortality, I’d choose her every time.” Hale’s voice shook from his chest, making every hair on Remy’s arm stand on end.
“Wow, she must be some—” Delta started and Abalina shot her a look. “. . . witch,” she finished.
He’d choose her. Every time. Even if it was all a ruse, the thought made Remy’s whole body shudder.
Hale’s hands idly slid up and down Remy’s thigh. Her skin tingled, radiating heat. Her entire body felt like it was shimmering. Remy shifted on Hale’s lap again. His arousal hardened against her thigh. He wanted her. At least some of this act was real. Warmth pooled between her thighs as Hale’s nostrils flared, smelling her excitement. Remy kept her eyes lowered from Hale’s gaze, knowing that one more look promised to set her aflame.
The human had already dealt out the next hand, but Remy had barely noticed. She swam in thick desire for the Eastern Prince. She shifted herself further against Hale, moving against his hard length. He groaned, his hand splaying further across her abdomen to hold her still. Remy couldn’t help but smile as she bent her head back and trailed kisses along the prince’s collarbone. This is what she had lain awake at night longing for. She had wanted it for longer than she would admit, and this ruse permitted her to do whatever she pleased. She let her arms casually rove his body, feeling the hard muscles of his arms, shoulders, chest in slow sweeps.
The rest of the fae darted uncomfortable glances at them as they touched each other, distracted by their wanton affections. Good. They each passed in cards to the dealer, getting new cards to finish their hand. Remy watched over hooded eyes as Delta and Bern smiled at their new cards. An easy giveaway. The only one too distracted to change cards was Hale as he continued his ministrations against Remy’s ear. She was breathing so heavily now it was indecent. The prince’s hand roamed dangerously close to the underside of her breast again as his other hand squeezed her hip once, twice: the signal. It was time.
Remy refused to overthink it as she turned to Hale. Eyes flaming with desire, she leaned up to his ear and whispered in a voice loud enough for all fae to hear, “I need you inside me now.”
Her words snapped the leash on Hale’s restraint. He lifted Remy by her backside and splayed her across the table. Coins and papers went flying. He pounced on top of her. His mouth collided with her own as he consumed her in a scalding kiss.
She moaned louder as their hands moved in a frenzy across each other’s bodies. Remy scrambled for the prince’s belt buckle before a razor-sharp voice shouted, “ENOUGH!”
Renwick yanked Hale by the neck of his tunic with enough force that his feet left the ground. The sizable evidence of Hale’s desire strained at the seam of his trousers as he gave the room a boyish, cocky grin. Remy giggled drunkenly as she adjusted her neckline.
“Seriously, Hale? I expected this sort of shit when we were boys, but I thought you had grown up at least an infinitesimal amount,” the Witchslayer hissed at him. “Now get out of here.”
Everyone stared at the two of them except for Neelo. They kept their eyes fixed on the words of their book, but an amused smirk pulled up one side of their lips.
“Keep the coins.” Hale laughed. “Just pittance anyway, right?” he said as if the mountain of gold coins he had lost was nothing.
Remy sauntered over to him, still laughing uncontrollably as if she had finally lost her senses to the drinks. Hale slung his arm over her shoulder and they stumbled to the door.
“Have fun you two.” Bern called out to them from the table.
“Shut up, Bern,” Renwick growled, returning to the table that the dealer was frantically tidying.