Scarred(Never After #2)(72)

Reaching down, I smooth my hand over her face, my thumb pressing into the wetness on her cheek and smearing it before moving it to her mouth.

She sucks, her tongue swirling around the tip of my finger, and my cock twitches again, something I’ve never felt before bursting like fireworks in my chest.





CHAPTER 40





Sara B.





By morning, he’s gone.

He has to be, of course. Nevertheless, my heart aches as though it’s been abandoned.

Holding on to my virginity was never something I did because it was expected. I don’t prescribe to the belief that it’s a gift to be given. I’ve just never found someone who I cared to experience it with. It’s vulnerable. Intimate. And while I’ve fooled around with boys in the past, there’s been no one I’ve considered my equal.

Until him.

A sharp knock raps on the door and I stretch beneath the covers, my insides twinging in pain. Before I can say a word, it swings open, all three of my ladies waltzing in as if privacy is something I don’t deserve.

Marisol heads straight to the large windows on the far side of my room and whips open the heavy curtains, allowing the dim light from the gloomy Saxum skies to pour into the space.

“Rise and shine,” Sheina singsongs as she moves past me, her eyes as bright as her blonde hair.

Frowning, I move to sit up on the bed, the sharp ache between my legs cutting through me like a sword, making me gasp from the feeling. Ophelia clears her throat and moves toward me until she’s pressed against the edge of the mattress.

“Milady,” she whispers, her eyes glancing to Marisol’s back and then to me again. “Are you alright?”

I tilt my head, assuming she means from everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. The truth is, I’m not alright—the sticky fingers of grief don’t let go easily—but I won’t show it to everyone. Showing emotion is weak, and I cannot afford to look weak, especially now.

“Of course I am, Ophelia.” I smile at her.

She leans closer, her brows drawing in. “There’s blood on your sheets.” Her voice is quiet, as though she’s trying to keep from letting the others hear. Embarrassment slams into me, and I glance down, realizing the blankets have slipped, specks of red dotting the fabric, surrounded by crumbled, hardened wax.

My cheeks flush, and my fingers grapple for the comforter, pulling it over the mess as I clear my throat. “Thank you, Ophelia.”

She grins and tips her head.

“What is it we’re doing today?” I ask, trying to remain calm even though my heart is beating out of my chest. Stupid to fall asleep like this.

Marisol spins around, her eyes narrowing on me. “Your uncle and His Majesty wish to dine with you.”

Her words are sharp and they sting as they whip across my face. I’m not sure if it’s from the tone of her voice or the thought of having to put on an act with the king when I’ve just been stripped of my innocence by his brother, but either way it smarts.

She slaps her hands together and walks my way. My insides tighten and I grip the comforter higher up, realizing that I’m naked beneath the sheets.

“Get out of bed, milady, so we can get you dressed and ready.”

Ophelia moves over to Marisol and links their arms together, pulling her to the washroom. “We’ll draw you a bath. I’m sure you could use the relaxation after yesterday.”

The reminder of yesterday twists my chest, but I smile, grateful that she seems to be in my corner. Once they disappear, I blow out a slow exhale, turning to find Sheina smirking at me from the other side of the room, a robe in one hand, the other on her hip.

“Don’t look at me that way, Sheina. Get over here and help me,” I hiss.

She lets out a small laugh before walking over and holding it out to me.

“Marisol must be blind as a bat,” she chides. “Your hair is an absolute rat’s nest, and you’re clearly not wearing any clothes.” Her eyes sparkle.

Scoffing, I grab the silk robe from her hands, shielding myself as best as possible when I toss off the comforter and stand to slip it on. My muscles groan in protest and again, a sharp stab careens through my center, making me jolt from the pain.

I like the way it feels.

Strangely, the ache is a comfort; a reminder that Tristan cares. That out of everyone in my life—Sheina and my uncle included—he’s the only one who showed up and held me through the night. Who distracted my mind and let me break in his arms, giving me his strength when he knew I had none.

“Quiet,” I snap, although I can’t keep the grin from curling in the corners of my mouth.

She giggles. “Well, at least wipe the freshly fucked look off your face.”

I gasp, shoving at her shoulder, allowing the smile to break free. “Watch your mouth, Sheina! Lord, what happened to my friend? I’ve never heard you speak so crude.”

Tying the sash of the robe together, I glance around, cringing when I see the bed is in such disarray.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll take care of it.”

Sighing in relief, the tension eases from my shoulders and I reach out, grasping her forearm in my hand. “Can we spend some time this evening, just the two of us?”

Hope blossoms in my chest, wanting to feel some sense of normalcy, knowing I’ve had none since before coming to Saxum and embarking on this long, torturous journey.