King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(21)

“You aren’t supposed to see me before the ceremony. It’s bad luck.”

It was a ridiculous thing to say. Bad luck had proceeded this whole thing, but I was growing nervous under his stare, which only seemed to darken the longer he looked.

Adrian’s lips curled. I couldn’t really call it a smile. Then he spoke, his voice trickling down my spine like drops of cool water. Suddenly, my mouth was dry.

“Considering the reasons for our marriage, I think I will chance it.”

He closed the door behind him, and I heard the distinct sound of my lock clicking into place. My back straightened painfully, and I was hyperaware of the metal hilt digging into the softness of my breasts.

“Can I help you, Your Majesty?” I asked curtly.

His approach was graceful, his eyes locked on mine.

“I merely wished to look upon my bride before we are to exchange our vows.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes.

“Having second thoughts?” I asked, elevating my voice to what I thought sounded hopeful.

He chuckled.

“No, if anything, I am more determined to make you my wife.”

He paused before me, and now I could smell him, and it reminded me of cedar forests. A fresh, crisp scent that hit like cold, misty mornings. It was calming, but only for a moment, because when I realized what was happening, I stiffened, glaring up at him.

“Why is that?”

He lifted his hand slowly, studying my eyes as his palm fell flush against my cheek. I swallowed and let a shuddering breath escape between my lips as his thumb brushed my skin.

“Do you tremble because you fear me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed, because I would never admit otherwise—that his touch had a heat forming low in my stomach.

He dropped his hand.

“Then why do I sense arousal?”

“That is…” I couldn’t find words.

“Deny it,” he said. “If it will make you feel less of a traitor.”

“I wasn’t going to deny it,” I said. “But it is vulgar nonetheless.”

“Hmm.” The corners of his mouth tilted again. “I am vulgar.”

I looked away, no longer able to maintain eye contact, and asked, “Did you come here to taunt me?”

“I would never taunt you,” he said.

“It sure doesn’t seem that way.”

“That is because you are ashamed,” he said.

His words drew my gaze back to him. This time, he moved quickly, securing his hand behind my head. “Soon, however, I hope you will find pride in being my wife.”

Then he brought his lips to mine, sealing our mouths together, and something dark and frenzied flourished within my body. It was like a spell overtook me, and every inch of my skin burned with the need to be touched by him. My hands skimmed over his chest and into his hair, and when he groaned, I rewarded him by opening my mouth so he could taste me. As our tongues twined and slid together, he took me by surprise, driving me into my vanity, my back bowed beneath him as he devoured, my hands pressing into his hard muscles, his erection grinding into the softness of my heat. I found myself gasping at the feel of him between my legs, and as my hips moved against his, I knew I’d give anything to know what it would be like to have him inside me.

“Say that aloud to me,” he growled against my lips, and as he spoke, I froze. His face was inches from mine, his white-rimmed eyes holding my gaze.

“What?” I asked, breathing hard.

The corners of his lips lifted. “You want me inside you,” he said. “Say it aloud.”

I shoved against him, and to my surprise, he stepped away.

“You can read minds?” I asked. I still couldn’t catch my breath, and I hated that because it was a reminder of how I’d let him take advantage of me.

“You welcomed me with open”—his eyes drifted down my body and then back up—“arms.”

“Get out of my head!”

I pushed him again, but he grasped my wrists and pulled me flush against him.

“Do not be ashamed by your thoughts, Sparrow. If it’s any comfort, I wish to know the same thing.”

I narrowed my eyes at the sudden use of a nickname I had not approved and jerked in his grasp, but he held me tighter.

“Your hair is beautiful.”

My brows knitted together. “What?”

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized the tight coil Nadia had worked so long to style had sprung free. I tore myself from him, staggering back. His stare pinned me, dark and lustful.

“At least we can be sure of one thing, Sparrow.”

“And what is that?” I asked, seething. I hated him for how he’d made me feel and that he knew it.

“We both know what we have to look forward to tonight.” Then, as if he thought I could not guess what he was implying, he added, “When we consummate our marriage.”

He had no idea we would not even get that far. It was my turn to smirk.

“I think you should leave, King Adrian,” I said and brought a hand to my hair. “I must restore my appearance.”

His eyes glittered darkly.

“Of course, my queen,” he said and bowed.

When he left the room, it took everything in my power to remain standing.