Chapter Thirty-Two

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

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T HE SENSUAL MUSIC GROWS WHEN I PUSH THE DOOR open, as do my nerves, but not enough to make me regret my decision. Breathy moans filter into the foyer, and a woman in a gold satin gown sits behind a desk adorned with two lanterns encrusted in rubies.

The woman slowly stands and bows. "Your Majesty, I hoped you'd come to the Golden Rose one day."

"I've heard wonderful things." I smile graciously before donning a demure fa?ade. "I'm expecting someone."

She takes a long drag from her pipe before blowing smoke through puckered lips. "May I ask for their name so I can escort them when they arrive?"

"Commander Veles." Saying his name brings me more comfort than it should.

A knowing smile spreads across her red lips. "The rumors around court say he's very enchanted by you, my lady. I'm grateful for your patronage."

Her gown trails behind her as she leads me through the foyer and a shimmering set of curtains. Several candles are placed upon gold tables, dripping wax and filling the room with floral scents. Drapery gives the illusion of privacy without fully gifting it. The various couples and parties in here don't grasp my attention because my mind is solely focused on how Cayden's lips feel on my skin.

"Your private chamber is equipped with everything you need, but if you wish for other comforts just let me or one of my workers know," she says while leading me down an equally lavish hall, plucking a key from the ring on her belt, and unlocking the door before handing it to me. "There's a selection of fresh outfits in the closet of varying sizes and colors. Will you need help getting out of your gown, my lady?"

"I can manage. Thank you for your hospitality," I respond. She curtsies before shutting the door and retreating. I press my forehead into the wood as the pulsing between my legs becomes incessant. Gods, I need to get hold of myself before Cayden gets here.

There are more modest pieces within the wardrobe, but I disregard them. I want to bring the man who kneels for no one to his knees. The scrap of red lace can't be considered panties, and the matching two-piece leaves little to the imagination. Thin gold chains hug my thighs, peeking between the high double slit of the floor-length skirt that sits low on my waist. Every sensitive part of my body is rubbed by the delicate lace. More chains hang down my shoulders and torso, attached to the tiny corset. My dark curls fall down my back, and I place the final piece of the outfit around my head: a gold circlet with a ruby at the center of my forehead.

The door opens and slams behind me, followed by a string of muttered curses and prayers for strength. I slide my hands down the delicate fabric of my skirt before turning and reveling in Cayden's tortured expression. He looks at me like he can't tell if he loves my outfit or wants to burn it. His knuckles are white from how fiercely he's gripping the handle.

His eyes drink me in like a dehydrated man who has found a lake after trekking through a desert for months. "Do I need to kill someone?"

My blood pumps so fiercely I can hardly hear him. "Nobody touched me."

"But did they see you before I had the privilege?" he asks, not dispelling the roughness in his tone. We're separated by a few feet, but it feels like miles. He looks like something that crawled out of a dark dream with his leathers, scars, and weapons. "You're an evil woman and a blessing all at once."

"Evil?" I question. "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of other men who would love—"

He pushes off the door and wraps my legs around his waist before pressing me into the embroidered bedding. His pupils have dominated his eyes, the same way he dominates me in this position. I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning when his bulge presses into me.

"Their blood will be on your hands." He rests his arm beside my head and presses the other into my back, arching it and pressing me fully into him. "I'm not a good man, Elowen. Never overestimate my compassion or underestimate my brutality."

I reach forward to toy with the waves curling at the nape of his neck. "You don't scare me."

"That's because my nature is flawed when it comes to you." He presses his lips to my neck and groans when I tighten my legs around him. I've never felt this kind of pull to anyone; it's intoxicating. "I'm greedy for the sight of you and starved for the taste of you."

He helps me shove his jacket off and returns his hands to my body once it hits the floor, pressing his forehead to mine after kissing up my neck. Our labored breaths mingle together as I speak. "Lie to me, touch me, do whatever you must to make it look like we're here for pleasure and nothing else. Make me believe you."

"When this night is over nobody in the kingdom will doubt how much I want you." His lips brush over mine. "I have a condition." My response becomes a moan when he shifts his hips. "Seal the deal with a kiss in here first. I told you I'm starved. You can't put a feast in front of me and tell me to take it slow."

I tilt my head up, and his exhale fans against my cheek as if he was holding his breath until I kissed him. His hand tightens in my hair, and he devours me. This is nothing like our first kiss; this is urgent and feverish. This is hands that can't grab enough rather than a thorough exploration. He doesn't seek permission; he dominates me with every stroke of his tongue. His lips and hips move against mine, amplifying my passion and demanding that I give more of myself.

My frustrated growl vibrates against his lips when I shove his shirt up and it keeps falling back in place. He chuckles, using one hand at the back of his neck to remove it after he separates our lips. My eyes dance over every inch of his torso, mesmerized beyond words. I knew he'd be muscular, but seeing him and imagining him are entirely different entities. He's built like a god. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and finely carved muscles wherever I look, all littered with a mixture of red, pink, and white scars from years spent as an assassin and soldier. He has a tattoo of the five phases of the moon on the left side of his torso along with a smattering of stars trailing down his ribs.

"Don't look at me like that," he commands, voice thick with lust.

"Why?" I rasp.

"Because we'll never leave this room." He weaves his fingers through my hair again to bring me to a sitting position. "Are you going to be all right without your knives?"

"I don't have much of a choice. If we're here for pleasure only, why would I remain armed?"

"They don't know our bedroom tastes." He detaches himself from me and walks toward my pile of blades, adding four to his thigh holsters and leaving his sword belt on. My gaze snags on the long lash scars stretching from his neck to his waist, and the pink lines make my vision turn red.

"Did you kill them?" Anger burns hot under my skin, and I know I'll kill them myself if he hasn't.

"Slowly." He turns back to me and presses his lips to my forehead. A wave of desire washes over me at the sight of our knives mingling together.

The dark aura encompassing the brothel makes me want to stay here for a while, letting the shadows mask my lustful acts. Everyone cranes their necks in our direction as Cayden leads me through the main room slowly, like he wants each person in here to see us together. I wonder if the mastermind has spotted me yet, and if they think me showing up here is too good to be true.

Cayden chooses a love seat beneath a sheer gold canopy with a tray of candles to offer us extra light. My heart pounds when he places his hands on the back of my thighs and trails his long fingers along the chains covering my stomach before replacing them with his mouth. He makes me feel like a living flame, and he's the oxygen feeding me.

His grip becomes assertive, and he yanks me forward to straddle him, looking up at me with the same soul-devouring expression he gave me when he first saw me wearing this. I hover above him, not wanting him to feel the pounding between my legs. This is a mission, it's supposed to be an act, but my body's reaction to him is undeniable.

"Are you sure this is all right?"

"No," he answers, and my cheeks heat in embarrassment. He places both hands on my hips, yanking me down to straddle him fully with no space left between us. " This is perfect."

His hard bulge presses into my soaked core, and he slides his fingers along my spine, causing me to arch into him. He wraps his lips around my nipple, visible through the fabric, and my head falls back in a moan. I place my hands on his shoulders and sway my hips to the beats of the song.

"That's it, angel," he groans. "Don't give them a show, give it to me."

I pull his hair to lift his face and cover his lips with mine. Our kiss is slow and sensual, the kind you share when you know you'll have more. It makes me want to peel his clothes off slowly and put my lips on every inch of his skin. I continue rocking our hips together and explore his body with my fingers, savoring the feel of his skin and adoring his reaction to me. When the kiss ends, I press my forehead to his and open my eyes, finding his already open and gazing at me. But it doesn't last long before they close again, and he leans forward to give me a chaste kiss that feels remarkably intimate.

He leans us back, locking his arms around my waist while I rest my head on his shoulder. He continues gliding his fingers up and down my spine in long, relaxing strokes. We must look like a regularly intimate couple to anyone else. I nuzzle into him before sitting up, even though being held by him feels right. Our bodies may have stopped moving, but the tension hasn't eased. The longer he looks at me, the more it builds. It's like we charge each other simply by touching.

His hands travel from my back to my thighs, and I shudder when he inches closer to my soaked panties. I narrow my eyes when he smirks, offering me his best version of an innocent expression that's far too mischievous. He pulls me close and bites the sensitive spot he knows renders me mindless. I snake my hands around his neck, and he leans me back, sliding his hands to my ass to keep me grinding. The music and our moans grow louder as sparks fly behind my eyelids. The possessive hold he has on me tells everyone here that I'm his, and trying to pull me away would be a feat equivalent to ripping apart the castle stone by stone with bare hands.

"Do you think—" He cuts me off by biting my neck again, and the pleasure is too much to speak through. "Don't be a prick." My curse is a breathless whisper.

"What did you call me?" There's a dangerous undertone to his question, and he pulls his head from my neck to look me in the eyes.

"Pri—ah!" He presses his fingers into the soaked lace between my thighs.

"Call me names again and I'll bend you over in front of this entire room." My thighs tighten around him, but he didn't dissuade me from cursing him, he made me want to call him every curse I know. Wickedness shines in his eyes, knowing I'd love that. "What did you want to ask me, angel?"

I glide my hands across his torso, getting lost in the stars and scars. I want to know more about him. Not the demon commander. Cayden Veles is becoming my favorite mystery to uncover.

"Angel?"

"Right." I clear my throat. "Do you think our performance is believable?"

His fingers slide through my hair, tugging at the roots. "If you want more, all you have to do is ask."

My hair fans across the cushions when he tosses me to the side and climbs on top of me. The couch is hardly large enough to fit his frame, but he makes it work. His tongue presses into my stomach and he licks his way to my breasts and finishes his path on my neck. My body squirms beneath him, desperate for friction, but he pins my hips down. He shoves two fingers into my mouth when I whine. No man has ever looked at me with the unwavering want he does; he looks at me like he needs me.

"Suck," he commands.

I wrap my lips around his fingers, swirling my tongue and bobbing my head slightly, wanting him to imagine what I'd do to his cock. His eyes darken and he drops his hips, finally rewarding me with his hard length. My arousal builds and builds, unrestrained, and I moan around his fingers.

He replaces them with his lips, and his groan sends a shock to my core. He grants me sharper thrusts and I dig my nails into his back. My head is dizzy and drunk on him, and I want him so badly it hurts.

"You're being so good for me, Elowen."

I love his praise. I want more.

He trails kisses down my stomach until my wish has been granted, and he's on his knees before me. The man who bows and kneels for no king or god doesn't hesitate to do so for me. I prop my head against the loveseat to watch what he's doing.

"Cayden." I can't manage more than his name when he tosses my legs over his shoulders, leaving love bites along my thigh.

"Your reactions are addictive." He tosses the center panel of fabric to the side and buries his face between my thighs. My head rolls against the back of the seat, and I slap my hand over my mouth to suppress a scream. "So fucking perfect." He nibbles on my panties, sending shocks throughout my body. I thread my fingers through his hair, and he moans between my thighs. "There's nothing more that I want to do than slide these panties to the side, but the first time I taste you won't be for anyone else, it'll be because you crave what I can give you as much as I crave to give it to you."

He continues teasing me, licking, sucking, and biting. Giving extra time and care to the places on me that make my legs shake. I'm a trembling mess by the time he kisses his way back up. He keeps me pinned below him, and I have no gods-damned idea how we're supposed to move on after this. But if he's going to torture me with his tongue, I'll do the same to him. I won't be the only one leaving this brothel with tormented priorities.

"Sit," I command, and he obeys. He pulls me onto his lap before I can slip from the couch, but I hold my hand over his lips when he tries to kiss me again, and I giggle at his annoyed expression and frustrated groan.

My lips skim his neck, and he shudders beneath me. I kiss my way down, stilling on the spots that make him moan, running my tongue over them, biting and sucking. He presses my head closer to him when I do, wanting me to mark him. I continue my pursuit, kissing between his pecs, along his tattoo, across several scars, and down his abs until the love bites stretch from his neck to his waist. He stares at them with pride as he cups my jaw and I slide down to my knees. I've never knelt for a man before, but Cayden makes me feel empowered by the way he truly views me as his salvation and damnation in human form.

I look up at him through my lashes. "Do you like the sight of me on my knees, demon?"

"Elowen." His tone is rough and heavy. I trail my hands up his thighs and palm his bulge through his loose pants, undoing the laces with my teeth to give him more room. " Fucking gods. " His eyes roll back in his head when I run my tongue along his torso and continue palming him. My thighs clench together when he shudders, and I note the tip of his cock protruding above his pants. He's just as aroused as I am. I angle my head so I'm able to lick the tip.

"Fuck, El." His hands fly to my hair and keep me there. I rest my cheek against his stomach and continue pleasuring him. I'd remove his pants and wrap my mouth around him if we had discussed public sex, but I'm happy to watch the most powerful man in Ravaryn writhe and pant from my touch.

His fingers tighten, and he forces my head up, smashing his mouth onto mine. It's carnal and filled with need. He bites my bottom lip, and I'm so irrevocably lost. I'm yanked off the floor and carted away, but I don't care where he's taking me, all I care about is his touch.

A lock clicks in place and my back is shoved into the door. Cayden's kisses take on a new level of ferocity now that we're alone. His hips slam into mine, he bites my neck again, and I can't stop myself from nearly screaming. I'm close to finishing from all the teasing.

"Please let me touch you," he groans against my neck. "I need to touch you, El. Let me take care of you."

Sweet gods, his begging will be my undoing.

His fingers press into the spot where I need him so damn badly. I can't speak through the relief it gives me.

"I need your words, beautiful. Tell me if this is okay."

"Please don't stop," I whimper.

"Thank the fucking gods."

He carries me over to the couch by the fireplace and pushes two fingers inside me after sliding my panties to the side. I shove my head into his neck and moan loudly. My body trembles while he strokes his fingers at a slow, torturous rhythm.

"You're so wet," he practically moans. "Is this all for me?" I keep my head buried in his neck. He drives his fingers deeper. "Answer me."

"Yes!"

I don't know how he affects me so much.

I want to hate how he affects me this powerfully.

His kisses consume me, his fingers overrule me, and all I can feel is him. My body feels like it's on fire, and he stokes the flames with every stroke.

"Ride my fingers like you would ride my cock," he mumbles against my lips.

"Fantasizing about me?" I palm him again and he presses his forehead into mine. "Perhaps I'll turn you into a screamer."

He darkly chuckles and traps my wrists, halting his fingers inside me. "When I fuck you, Elowen, it won't be in some seedy brothel. It's going to be somewhere I can make you come so many times your throat will be hoarse from screaming my name." His fingers begin to slowly move again. "I'm going to fuck the idea of me only being your ally right out of your pretty little mind."

I grow wetter at his words and the power he exudes. His breaths have turned shallow, and he looks like he regrets denying me and wants to pin me down and take me right here.

He swallows and locks his jaw. "Be a good girl and ride my fingers."

I rock my hips, rolling them slowly, wanting to feel his fingers press against every nerve possible while obeying his command. We continue this until he can't hold back any longer and drills them into me. I'm nearly sobbing from how overwhelming the sensation is. I can't breathe.

He presses his sweaty forehead into mine again, keeping his crazed gaze locked on me. "You can comfort yourself by saying tonight is a mission, but we both know you're not going to give me something fake. There's nobody around but you're still on my lap. Moan my name because my fingers are fucking you exactly how you want them."

I try to say his name, but I'm cut off by the sheer magnitude of what he's doing to me.

"You're such a beautiful mess, love." He licks his lips. "One day my tongue will replace my fingers, then my cock will replace my tongue. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want me to fuck you until all you can think about is how you find religion when you're alone with me."

"Cayden," I moan, digging my nails into his back, unable to answer his questions and too sure of myself to deny the truth they hold. He rubs my clit and I bury my head in his neck to muffle some of the sounds coming out of me. Even his scent drives me further to the edge. He yanks my hair and forces me to look at him while my pleasure is driven to its peak. I scream his name as he wrings every ounce of pleasure possible.

I'm a mess of whimpers and moans as I cling to him for dear life. He releases my hair and slides his hand down my back in long, soothing strokes, kissing my hair and massaging the roots. He slides his fingers out of me, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean, and his eyes roll back in his head.

"I want to do something for you."

"Believe me, you just did," he says, continuing his massage with both hands. "Your pleasure is my pleasure." He takes my face in his hands, noting my unease at the thought of leaving him unsatisfied, giving me a series of soft, sweet kisses until I'm smiling against him.

"I suppose the mission was unsuccessful," I mutter, picking at the lace on my skirt.

"It wasn't." My head shoots up. "I could see the light dancing under the door, and I heard someone get slammed into the wall. It's why I didn't take you over to the bed."

I lean closer and smirk when his eyes flash to my breasts. "Is that the only reason?"

"You and your communication," he mutters, and sets me on shaky legs. "There are holding cells under every building along the main road. Ryder will have taken them there for questioning, and we'll head down after getting dressed."