Scarred(Never After #2)(20)

“It’s not an outstanding quality for a queen consort,” I continue. “You may want to work on that before your etiquette courses start and they beat it out of you.”

Her footsteps falter and she stops, spinning to face me.

“Beat it out…” Her voice trails off as she watches me, and I sense the tension in the air growing thick even before her gaze snags on my scar. It tightens around me until my lungs compress, but I revel in the discomfort.

“Don’t worry.” My finger taps against the raised flesh on my brow. “This isn’t a result of bad manners. Not mine anyway.”

She nods but doesn’t avert her eyes. “Thanks for the tip.”

I move to walk again, but she reaches out, her fingers wrapping around my wrist to keep me in place. My gaze drops to where we’re connected, heat flooding through my veins.

“Tell me about the rebels,” she demands.

My gut jolts and I spin to face her, allowing her touch to linger on my skin. I trail my eyes along her form, starting at the tip of her black-as-night curls, over her deep-chocolate eyes, before sliding down to the cleavage peeking from the top of her bloodred dress.

My cock grows stiff as I imagine ripping the fabric from her chest and sliding my length between the swell of her breasts until I’m crazy with the need to come.

She drops my wrist and backs up a space, her chin lifting like it always does right before she becomes defiant. The move showcases the expanse of her neck, and my fingers twitch to leave prints on her like paint on a canvas.

Slowly, I take the unlit joint from my mouth, placing it behind my ear as I bring my eyes back to hers. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything. I want… wait.” Her brows draw in. “You’re not going to fight me on it? Tell me I shouldn’t speak of them or ask questions?”

I tilt my head. “Now, why would I do that?”

“Everyone else has, I just—” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

The sight of her marring her own flesh sends another spike of desire through me, and before I can stop, I’m moving toward her, excitement sparking my insides when she retreats. I continue until she’s underneath the stone arches of the window, her body pressing against the greens and yellows of the stained glass.

Her eyes flick from my face to the hallway and back as if she’s scared someone will walk by and see us.

I enjoy making her nervous.

The mask she wears for the world drops away when it’s just the two of us.

“I’m not everyone else, little doe.” I step in farther.

The yellow specks in her eyes make my stomach tighten. I bring a hand up, running the backs of my fingers along her cheek, liking the way she flinches, either from the touch itself or the cool metal of my rings.

“It would be such a shame to lose that inquisitive mind,” I murmur. “I don’t wish to stifle it. I wish to break it apart and see what other questions I can find.”

Her hands move behind her until they’re pushing against the window, the colors creating a beautiful halo around her body as if she’s divinity in human form, brought to earth to tempt me from my violent deeds.

But I already know she’s no angel.

My fingers continue down until I’m grazing against her neck. I expect her to pull away, but once again she surprises me, tilting her head as if she craves my touch.

“You put a lot of trust in me, asking about a rebel faction and thinking I won’t throw you in the dungeons and chain you up.”

Her pulse thrums beneath my thumb, and my muscles cramp in anticipation at the way her nerves show themselves to me, no matter how much she tries to hide them.

“You wouldn’t,” she breathes.

“You’re so sure?” My grip tightens around her throat, wanting to feel her pulse flutter as I whisper dirty words into her ear. “I think you’d look lovely tied to a wall and begging for mercy.”

Something wild unleashes inside of me as her pupils dilate, my balls jerking, making my length pulse against the fabric of my trousers. I drop my hand to her waist, moving us until she’s pressed into the alcove of the window’s archway, our bodies centimeters apart.

“You shouldn’t be touching me,” she whispers. “If someone sees… they could put us to death.”

“What are you going to do, take out your cute little dagger and try to bleed me dry?” I ask, my hand pushing against her torso so she’s flattened against the wall. “Would you like to keep pretending? I know you’re not the good girl you claim to be.”

Her palms jump to my chest, fingers digging into my black tunic. I lean in, my nose skimming along her hairline, breathing in her soft floral scent. “I see what you try so hard to hide.”

I feel out of control. Every single piece of me is raging to grab her, and fuck her, and brand her, and keep her, which is crazy because I don’t even want her.

“You don’t have to hide from me, little doe.”

“I’m not hiding,” she purrs, her lips brushing against mine. “I’m revolted.”

Footsteps sound from down the hall and we pull away from each other, her fingers tangling in the thin chain of her necklace.

I spin away, cursing myself for being so idiotic. Why would I touch her in the middle of the hallway?