King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(25)

I’d half expected to see Killian and felt guilty for the dread that thought had given me. Instead, it was Adrian. As I turned to face him, he halted, unable to hide his surprise. I was sure he had not expected me to wait for him like this—in skin and red lace.

“You are not modest, my queen.”

“Have I need to be?”

Adrian closed the door, his boots thudding against the floor as he approached. He slipped out of his coat and tossed it on the bed. His tunic followed. I swallowed hard as I took in his bare chest—his shoulders were wide, his waist narrow, and his muscles sculpted with a precision only achieved through constant training. As much as I marveled at his body, I also marveled at his forwardness.

“You have done this before,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I wasn’t sure why I hesitated, but he smiled, rueful, dark, almost like he was promising I’d think of no one else beyond this night.

“Don’t worry. I shall not annul the marriage, but I will look forward to a good fucking.”

I narrowed my eyes, and he held out his hand.

“Come.”

I did not move, his command anchoring me.

“Before we fuck, I have questions.”

He let his hand fall to his side. “I do not wish to talk,” he said, eyes darkening.

I scowled. “Am I to lie back and be silent?”

His lips quirked. “I’d rather hoped you’d be just as vicious as you are in battle.”

“I draw blood in battle. Is that what you want?”

“If you make that a promise, I’ll let you ask your questions.”

“You read minds?”

He answered by telling me what I was thinking. “Only when you are very…passionate. Like right now, you hate my smirk. Earlier, you wondered what my skin would feel like against yours, what I would feel like inside you.”

I clenched my teeth and quickly turned my thoughts toward my next question.

“Yesterday in the woods, you drew words from my mouth against my will.”

“Is that a question?”

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, taking a step closer. “If you ever do that again, I will cut off your balls and shove them down your throat. That is a promise.”

His infuriating smirk never left his face. “Anything else before we begin, my queen?”

I had more questions, especially about his magic, but asking those would mean admitting to the insatiable desire I’d felt for him the past day, and while I knew he was probably well aware, I could pretend it wasn’t real so long as the words never left my mouth.

“That was not magic,” he said, answering my thoughts.

“What do you mean it wasn’t magic? I would never—”

“Desire a monster?” he asked, then tilted his head. “Tell me how many times you touched yourself and imagined it was me.”

I reached to shove against his chest, but he caught my hands.

“You mock me,” I snapped.

“I am only asking you to confront your desire for me. Will it help if I admit to mine?”

My eyes lowered to where his flesh bulged. I didn’t need him to admit to it; I could see it.

He reached out and his fingers brushed my lips. My hand clamped down on his wrist.

“I will keep my promise to you,” he said, holding my gaze, and after a moment, I guided his hand down my throat to my chest where, against my better judgment, I wanted his touch. Then his mouth collided with mine and both hands kneaded my breasts through the lace robe. The fabric created a rough friction that teased as his fingers rubbed my nipples. I drew my arm around his neck as his tongue plied my mouth, tasting of wine.

I wondered absently if he had fed before coming here and had only drank wine to hide the taste, but I could not continue with that thought as Adrian lifted me off my feet and guided my legs around his waist. One hand splayed across my back, the other gripped my ass, and he ground into me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I felt volatile in his hands, and I wanted to explode.

He guided us to the bed, and as I sank into the covers, Adrian’s mouth moved from mine to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin, and I went rigid.

“I won’t feed,” he whispered, breathless. “Though you are sweet.”

He kissed down my body, between my breasts, along my stomach. His body parted my legs, brushing my clit as he sat back on his heels and looked down at me. He did not wait, did not tease. His fingers just parted my hot flesh, and it was more than I could have ever imagined. I arched my back, and as I did, my hands disappeared under the pillows. Briefly, I remembered that I should not be enjoying this.

Above me, Adrian hissed and then descended, mouth closing over my clit. A sound I’d never heard, a feeling I’d never felt erupted from the bottom of my stomach. I hated him for this as much as I wanted it. Instead of reaching for my blade, I pushed against the headboard, pressing into his mouth. One hand reached for his wrist, and I pulled him deeper inside me, his fingers curling. The pressure crested, and when I came, I was overcome by the need for his cock.

The frustration divided me—part of me wanted this, but I hated that part of myself. Adrian was my enemy, and his mouth had just driven me to climax, a mouth that took blood from others. A monster who only had me beneath him now because he’d threatened to go to war with my kingdom unless I married him.