Shadow Heir

Dorian set down his goblet and walked over to me, surprising me by kneeling so that he looked up at my face. “I told you earlier. What wouldn’t I do for you? I don’t know what else I can say to convince you. I’ve tried to make amends for the Iron Crown, Eugenie. I guess I’ve failed.”

My heart lurched, and I sank to the ground beside him. I caught hold of his hands. “No, you haven’t. It’s not your problem anymore. It’s mine. I’m the one who has to get over the past and start trusting again.”

He ran his fingers over mine. “With everything that’s happened to you, I don’t blame you for not trusting anyone.”

“I trust lots of people,” I said. A memory of this afternoon came to me, and traitorous lust coursed through my body. “Including you.”

I brought my lips to his and was flooded with that warmth and sweetness from earlier, that sense that Dorian and I belonged together. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me so that I practically sat on his lap. I increased the intensity of the kiss, nipping his lip with my teeth. He responded in kind, reaching up to grab my hair and jerk my head back so that he could bring his hungry mouth down to my throat. I wondered if I’d have marks there tomorrow but didn’t really care one way or another.

His other hand slid up to the bodice of my dress, deftly undoing the laces. He pulled back the fabric, exposing a breast, and brought his mouth down to it, finishing what he’d started this afternoon. I cried out as his teeth and tongue played with my nipple and shifted so that I sat up right on my knees and gave him better access. He freed the other breast and sucked on it while also attempting to hike up the dress’s skirt. I tried to pull him on top of me and lie back on the floor, but he stopped me.

“No,” he gasped out. “Not here. I need to take you to ... somewhere else ... the bed or something... .” He started to get up, and I pushed him down.

“No,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Right here. Right now. Just like it used to be.” I don’t know what urgency drove me. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fear of another interruption like we’d had earlier. Maybe it was just the constant threats I seemed to face that made me want to grasp on to this moment before it could slip away. Or maybe I just hadn’t had sex in too long.

He studied me for a moment, and I thought he might refuse. Then, he made his decision and came forward to kiss me even harder than before. His body pushed me down so that my back was on the floor. That ridiculous “slayer” robe turned out to be pretty easy to get off, and so help me, he was completely naked underneath. He pushed my skirt up over my hips and tsked when he saw I had underwear on. This had been a longtime debate between us, seeing as gentry women rarely wore any with dresses.

He quickly took mine off and then lowered his body on top of me. His hands caught hold of my wrists, pinning me to the floor with the same domination he’d always shown in bed. A moment later, without further warning, he was in me, just as hard and long as I remembered. I let out a small cry of surprise, a cry he muffled with a kiss. My body seemed startled at first, seeing as it hadn’t had a lot of action in a while. It didn’t take long to recover, particularly since I was wetter than I’d expected.

He held me down and thrust himself in and out of me, awakening the desire we’d once shared. I grew lost in it, and soon it was as though no time had passed at all between us. I think he would’ve gone slow and easy if I had asked. I didn’t. I urged him on to take me harder and not hold back. My body reveled in it, loving the feel of him in me. I arched up when I finally came, and he pushed me back down, thrusting harder still as the orgasm wracked my body. He came almost immediately after, his face exquisite in the throes of ecstasy. I had a feeling it had taken every ounce of control he had to wait for my climax.

He collapsed down on me when he was done, panting and sweaty. I pulled him to me, running a hand over that brilliant, fiery hair. In the afterglow, lying half dressed on the floor seemed a little ridiculous—but only a little. I tried to think of something funny to say, but my brain was lazy and tired with bliss and affection.

“I feel like I might have just been used,” he said with amusement. “But I don’t think I mind.” It was a fair point, considering my earlier talk about not knowing where we stood.

A knock at the door interrupted any response I might have made. Dorian groaned and nuzzled against my breast. “Ignore it.”

The knock sounded again, this time more urgently. When the knock digressed to what was obviously kicking at the door, I suggested that maybe Dorian should answer it after all.

“I don’t think that’s a servant,” I said. “And hey, at least they waited until after we were done.”