My hand, which hovered above the board, shook. Instead of moving a game piece, I grabbed the wine I’d been sipping and drank the remainder of the liquid down like a shot, then slammed the glass on the tray.
Jhaeros leaned forward and twisted around to face me, brows furrowed.
“Why do my words offend you?”
“Perhaps it is not your words,” I suggested.
His jaw slid to one side as he studied my profile.
“Have we met before?” he asked. “Do I know you?”
“Not at all, I assure you,” I retorted.
He knew me as well as a vampire knew the sun.
He swallowed.
“Did someone hurt you in the past? A male?” His fingers fisted over his thighs and the emotion in his voice twisted through my stomach. Was that truly concern I detected in his voice?
Cirrus had never hurt, nor forced himself on me. No, he’d made me a princess and treated me as such—offering me my heart’s desire so long as I remained by his side in Faerie.
It was my family who had hurt me. My father. Shalendra. Their heartless indifference.
“No one hurt me. My mate treated me well.”
“You are mated?” Jhaeros didn’t mask the disappointment from his voice. He slumped forward as though he’d been shoved from behind.
“Widowed,” I corrected.
His head perked up, but he managed a grave tone. “Please accept my condolences.”
“Our time together was short—a union of convenience.” I shrugged and stared blindly at the game board.
Firelight danced around the dim stone walls of the chamber and a gentle crackling emanated from the hearth.
It felt like minutes ticked by as we sat side by side, suspended in time.
Finally, Jhaeros cleared his throat gently. “Would it cheer you if I took a taste of the funny drink, the pink one?”
I hadn’t thought anything could pep me up in that moment, but his offer felt like clouds parting and sunshine spilling in. A smile pulled up my cheeks. I turned in my seat, one knee connecting with Jhaeros’s thigh. I hadn’t noticed him inching closer.
“Yes,” I said, “and it would delight me even more if you said its name.”
Jhaeros winced, which made me laugh. He muttered the name.
I leaned in closer. “What was that?”
Jhaeros lowered his gaze, staring down my gown. His eyes snapped up a second later after he realized he’d been ogling my bosom. Such a fuddy-duddy. I wasn’t some blushing virgin, and it wasn’t like dozens of other supernaturals weren’t getting it on all night long.
If I wanted, I could have him. I was sure of it. I could rouse Jhaeros until he loosened his grasp of propriety and had me on my back like an upended campaigne piece—a queen and king taking each other down. Game over. But for whom?
Jhaeros glanced at the pink cocktail.
“Party in Your Mouth,” he said with resignation, fiddling with the top button on his collar.
“There. Was that so hard?” I teased, taking delight in his discomfort. “Now try it.”
He leaned forward, his leg pressing against my gauzy skirt as he plucked the martini glass from the tray. He lifted the drink two inches from his nose and squinted at the rim.
“What is this stuff?”
“Try it,” I urged.
As he lifted the rim to his full lips, I leaned closer to watch. Rather than drink, Jhaeros licked the rim. The sight of his tongue sweeping over the glass ignited fire in my belly. His eyes expanded as the candy crackled over his tongue. From this close, I could hear the tiny pops.
Jhaeros’s mouth opened slightly. “What in tarnation—”
Before he could say anything more, I launched myself into his lap and slammed my lips against his, taking the one thing I was certain he’d never given Shalendra—a kiss. A wild one. One that sizzled and popped as my tongue swirled around his while little explosions erupted in our mouths.
I set my arms around his strong shoulders and wrapped my fingers around his neck, sitting sideways on his lap.
Jhaeros gripped me by my hips, crushing his mouth against mine, invading my mouth with his tongue as I tasted him. All traces of the gallant male seemed to fizzle alongside the candy as Jhaeros pushed me on my back. He leaped to his feet and hastened to close the door, unbuttoning his collar as he went. On his return, he’d successfully unfastened the top four buttons on his white dress shirt. He ripped off his suit jacket and tossed it on the armchair, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
I leaned back on my elbows and watched him tear open the fastening of his black suit pants. Once unhindered, he returned to the settee, keeping his bulge covered rather than expose himself to me. Ever the aristocratic elf.
He sat between my legs and lifted my skirts up my legs. Before he had them at my waist, I sat up and climbed over his lap. I’d decided moments before that I would not be the captured queen. I had every intention of taking the king.
With deft fingers, I reached through the opening of his pants, quickly finding his throbbing bulge—thick and long. I sucked in a breath of excitement. Jhaeros moaned as my fingers closed around him. Once I had him positioned, I lowered myself over him, sucking air in through my teeth when I was fully seated.
“Jhaeros.” I moaned his name as though it was a breath I’d held in for decades.
It was his undoing. The world tilted as Jhaeros flipped me onto my back and plunged into me with the full force of his powerful hips, penetrating deeper, reaching places within me that had never been stroked.
I squirmed beneath him, wanting to regain my position on top, but the more I wiggled, the faster he pulsed. No match for his weight and determination, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, lifting my hips to meet his.
Jhaeros groaned with pleasure. He grabbed my head and crushed his lips against mine, fingers freeing the pins Penelo had so painstakingly positioned to secure my hair. Soft, loose curls tumbled over my bare shoulders until it was entirely unbound and free.
I felt a mad desire to fling off my mask alongside the pins, if only to get more air on my flushed face.
Jhaeros broke off the kiss with a moan, rocking into me like a pirate navigating the rough waves of a squall.
“I have never seen such beauty,” he rasped by my ear, “nor felt such pleasure. I could spend a lifetime sinking into your depths and it would still not be enough.”
Something warm loosened in my belly, like a fern unfurling. Joy filled me briefly then was quickly dashed away.
My heartbeat quickened, not out of rapture but panic. I could not fall for Jhaeros Keasandoral, and I’d never intended for him to fall for me. Not that he had. He’d lost his mind for Lady Thezlina, not Shalendra’s inferior older sister. If he knew the true identity behind the mask, he wouldn’t worship my body with his own while waxing poetic.
I lowered my arms down his back to his rear, fingers digging in as I pulled him into me. Jhaeros answered my silent demand, pounding hard and fast until I was gasping for air, burning hot, breaking apart, and—like the once tidy curls pinned to my head—coming completely undone.
With one final thrust, I shattered.
Jhaeros’s head jerked back as he groaned out his release. I felt his warm tide rush into me, remaining behind even as he pulled out.
Thankfully, Cirrus and I had never been able to produce children. Because Cirrus had so many siblings, I assumed I must be barren, though he wouldn’t have been the first of the Elmrays to be slipped toxins to render him impotent.