Assassin Queen

by Chandra Ryan

  “If you don’t mind. I believe I’ll retire now.”

  Tomorrow was going to be a challenging day at best. Being sleep derived wouldn’t help.

  “Take the first room. I find today has left me too anxious to rest. I’ve no plans of retiring any time soon.” Lilly handed him the key to the room she’d claimed as her own.

  It was unexpected to say the least. But he hadn’t gotten into the inner circle of the Assassin Princess by questioning good luck, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. He took the key from her and left before any of the others could challenge him for the room. Having a bed to himself was a blessing in the current situation. A whole room, however, was a luxury beyond imagination.

  And it was an indulgence he intended to fully enjoy. As soon as he crawled into the bed, he closed his eyes and stretched out to take up as much of space as possible. He’d forgotten how comfortable sleeping could actually be when there wasn’t a three-hundred-pound brute snoring in his ear.

  Of course, it wasn’t perfect. Not when every movement brought with it the fragrance of honeysuckle that trailed Lilly. It was challenging being around her during the day when they were both fully dressed and preoccupied with their current assignment. But it was infinitely more difficult when he was lying in her bed with nothing to think about other than her soft skin and perfect curves. Her scent alone made him hard with desire.

  He tossed and turned for a few minutes but then gave up on the idea of finding a position that was comfortable with his erection. There was no way he was ever going to get to sleep in his current condition. He slipped a hand down his trousers before taking a firm hold of his dick. He couldn’t help but picture her face at the touch. But the mental image didn’t seem enough. It was more than her physical features that stirred him. True, her beauty was beyond question. The bards had sung of it in her youth. It had been her strength, however, that had truly fascinated him. And there was no way to capture that in a simple illusion.

  Her story had been too unique to dismiss when they had been introduced. She had been exiled—forced to live on the streets of foreign kingdoms—when she was only sixteen. How many women would have died under those circumstances? Not her, though. She had found a home among the outcasts of society. She had thrived.

  He stoked the rigid length of his cock as he remembered the way her mouth had tilted into a wicked smile when she had told him of her plans for the man her mother married. Kirin had been hooked in that instant. And he still was all these years later.

  He moaned as his cock became ever harder. He needed to find some form of release—even if it was by his own hand. The soft click of the door opening made him forget that hunger, though. He rolled off the bed silently and then grabbed a knife off the table before coming up to stand behind the intruder. As soon as he wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her body against his, he recognized his mistake.

  “Not many men can hold a knife to my neck.” Her husky voice made his erection throb painfully.

  “And not many women would enter a mage’s quarters at night.”

  “Not even when the mage has the reputation of being wicked?”

  She caressed his thigh as she spoke. The action left him with little doubt as to why she’d crossed his threshold.

  “Seems like a waste.”

  “Yet you haven’t found it as such until now.”

  He hadn’t lowered the knife. She may not be a threat to his health, but his sanity hung by a fragile thread at the moment.

  “I was betrothed to another.” Her palm had worked its way up to his cock. “But, alas, that no longer holds true.”

  “I was there. I remember. And I also remember you swearing off all future entanglements.”

  “I did not come here looking for promises of fidelity and love.” Her voice shook with emotion as she spoke. “I have needs that have been sorely neglected over the past decade.”

  His desire quickly faded to annoyance. He was nothing more than a convenient bedding to her. Unwilling to be used as such, he pushed her away.

  “And you presumed that I’d be happy to service you. After all, what male would ever say no to the Princess Lilavati?” He smirked as he shook his head. “I’m not a stand-in for your absent knight. Nor do I wish to be used in retribution for his betrayal.”

  He walked over to the table and put the knife back in its sheath before turning up the lantern. The added light was a mistake, though. It had been hard enough to turn down her advances when she was nothing more than a dark shape pressed against his body. Seeing her crestfallen expression and lush curves made his heart restrict painfully. He needed to get out of here before he did something he would regret.

  “This is your room, however, so I will take my leave.” He grabbed his cloak off the end of the bed and then took a step toward the door. “And tomorrow we’ll go on as if this never happened.”

  That last bit was more for him than her. Her tight gasp of breath told him that she heard and understood his meaning nonetheless. Her advances were forgettable. He was certain the comment would sting, but no more than her attempt to use him in an attempt to forget another had.

  He didn’t look back at her as he left the room. He didn’t dare. One more stolen glance and he would crumble. He’d strip her naked, pin her to the bed, and make her forget about any man but him. He smiled at the thought. He could do it. He was well versed in the secrets of a woman’s body. But she wanted a man to slake her appetite, and he wanted….

  He stopped abruptly at the top of the staircase. What did he want from her? Surely not the promises of faith and devotion she’d taunted him with in the room. She was a princess, and he was—at best—a bastard ruffian. He didn’t want to think about what they called him at his worst. But if it wasn’t promises he wanted, then why had her words cut him? And why was he headed down to the common room for a drink instead of sinking into her warm, welcoming body?

  He shook his head before starting down the stairs. Whatever he wanted from her, he knew she didn’t want the same from him. She’d made that clear.

  When he reached the common room, he sank into one of the hard wooden chairs. It took only a moment for a wench to find him and take his order. Then he had his salvation at hand. Its amber depths promised him incoherent indifference with only a couple of drinks. Alcohol was the only mistress he wanted. It might leave him with a headache at sunrise, but he never had to worry about its expectations. Or his own.

  Just as his vision started to blur and the stress of the day started to unwind, however, he felt the brush of cold metal on his neck.

  “You leave me alone and wanting so you can drink and stare at wenches?”

  Chapter Four

  As soon as she was certain she had his attention, she put the dagger back into her cloak. She’d wanted to prove a point—her skills were every bit as deadly as his. But she couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Not when they were so close to achieving her goal.

  “I do not appreciate having a knife at my throat.” She walked around the table and took the seat directly on the other side from his. “And I did not enjoy your smug little sermon in the room.”

  His eye twitched as it did whenever she’d struck a nerve. And, even in her current emotional state, she had to fight against the urge to smile in victory at the unconscious tic. She’d just scored another point.

  This was a game she’d started years ago when she’d first noticed his tell. One he had no idea he was playing. And, really, it made little difference to her that he didn’t know what was going on. It was actually better that way. He’d only argue with her about her need to annoy him for sport. But there was nothing he could say to dissuade her. He was such a calm and composed man that she had to ruffle his feathers from time to time. She enjoyed knowing she had that kind of power. She enjoyed it a lot.

  “It was not a pompous lecture. I spoke only the truth.” He raised the glass to his lips and took a drink before looking at her again. “I won’t bed a woman who is thinking
about another man.”

  She sneered at him briefly before she brought her emotions back under control. As much as she loved having an effect on him, she hated that he held the same power over her. It shouldn’t really matter. With the heavy riding cloak in place, he couldn’t see her expression so he’d never know. But she did. And that was enough to get under her skin and start making her a little tetchy.

  “Fine.” She looked around the tavern. “I’m sure there are a great many men here who would share my bed without a single concern about who currently occupied my head.”

  “You can’t.”

  The words were rough with undisguised anger. She must have really gotten under his skin this time.

  “Why not?” She stared at a well-muscled man sitting across the room from her. He wasn’t exactly her type, but he’d do. “I’m sure the blond over there wouldn’t turn me down.”

  She nodded in the man’s direction to make sure Kirin know whom she was speaking of.

  “You would throw away all those years of plotting your revenge, not to mention lose the only possible chance you have at getting your throne back, to scratch an itch between your legs?” He took another drink. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Her heart beat loud and fast with anger. How dare he challenge her? After all the women she’d seen him leave with over the years, he was the last person to offer her lectures on the wisdom of bedding strangers.

  “He doesn’t know me.”

  “But he would the moment you took your cloak off. And you can’t bed a man properly while wearing it.”

  She glared at Kirin as she considered his words. “He might not figure it out. He doesn’t look particularly bright.”

  She turned her attention back to the man and sighed. He really didn’t look very smart. He was currently staring at his fingers as if they were fascinating.

  Kirin snorted as he glanced over at the man. “I’m honored to find myself on any list with the likes of him.” He shook his head before finishing off his drink.

  “I would like to point out that there wasn’t a list until you decided to throw your temper tantrum.”

  “I’m not throwing a temper tantrum. I have standards. Something you could benefit greatly from.”

  She gritted her teeth to keep the acidic reply from escaping her lips. He had standards, did he? And they were somehow set above her? She thought back to the women she’d seen him with. True, most were curvier than she. But their intellects seemed as high as that of the blond sitting across the room. They laughed too loud at the dumbest puns and had never once contributed to any conversation of any significance.

  “Yeah, I remember that wench in the low country. She seemed to be of high quality. I bet you spent the night in her bed debating all the current philosophers of note. What was her name again? I apologize for having forgotten. I’m sure she holds a great importance in your heart.”

  He had the decency to blush. “That’s different.”

  “It always is for a man. They get to scratch whatever particular itch they might have without consequence.”

  She stood and then walked over to him before leaning in close enough for him to hear her whisper. “I understand if you don’t want to share my bed. But you don’t have the right to lecture me on standards or discretion.”

  He wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her closer. Anyone else would’ve been in a puddle of his own blood dying on the floor at the move. As it was, she had one hand on the hilt of her dagger.

  “You refuse to touch me when I ask, but dare to lay a hand on me now? I thought you were smarter than that.” She smiled at having the opportunity to throw his words back in his face.

  “I never said I didn’t want to be in your bed. I said I wanted to be in your thoughts while I took your body.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her. She had imagined what it would be like to have him kiss her for the past three years. Something about how driven and committed he appeared to be in all aspects of his life. He was the best magician because nobody else pushed himself as hard he did. Nobody committed to the art with the same determination. She had no idea to whom he was trying to prove himself, but she appreciated the desire. Especially when it was a drive so easy for her to capitalize on. She hoped only that those traits carried over to his skills in bed.

  Still, no matter how decadent she imagined it would be, she hadn’t come close to the reality of it. He made her feel more alive in one kiss than her betrothed ever had. Even when she’d been naked and under him, Naresh had never made her head swim and her heart beat this hard. Her blood raced with desire as he flicked his tongue over her bottom lip in a teasing question. Would she yield? She doubted she could stop herself even if she wanted to.

  With a soft moan she opened her mouth and allowed him to deepen the kiss. He pulled her onto his lap with one jerk of his hand. The change in position allowed him to gain access to her body. As one hand stayed on the back of her head, guiding the kiss, the other one slipped under her cloak and started exploring. He began at her inner thigh. His fingers slid over her leggings in sure and confident strokes that made her squirm.

  “Who are you thinking of now, Your Highness?”

  She whimpered as he nipped at her earlobe. There was just enough force in the bite to sting, and the mixture of pleasure and pain made her wet and needy.

  “You.”

  “I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

  He brushed his hand up her side. He was so close to her breast that it would take only a small shift and he’d be stroking the sensitive skin that burned for his touch.

  “Say my name.”

  She ran her tongue along the shell of his ear. “Kirin.”

  “And what do you want from me?”

  His hand cupped her breast, and he gently massaged it. The dark need his touch woke made it hard for her to breathe and nearly impossible to think. What did she want from him? She wanted him to kiss, stroke, and possess every inch of her body. She needed him to slake the hunger he’d awoken. But there was more she wanted.

  She desired to momentarily forget she was a stranger in her own kingdom and would be killing her mother’s last love. It all tangled together, her wishes, desires, fears, and needs until she didn’t know where one started and the others ended. As he brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple, however, she had his answer.

  “Everything.”

  She had no idea what it really meant. Only that it sounded right. It must have satisfied him as well. He picked her up as he stood and then put her down carefully.

  “Then we should probably retire to your room.”

  The stairs seemed never-ending as she led him back to her quarters. He had one arm wrapped around her waist possessively as the other caressed her arm. The touch was light, but it served as a constant reminder of what was in store for her this evening.

  She turned the key in the lock and took one last breath as she pushed the door open. Every nerve in her body tingled with anticipation. She led him into the room and closed and locked the door behind them. There would be no interruptions this evening.

  She allowed the heavy cloak to fall to the floor. It landed in a puddle around her ankles, but Kirin didn’t move. She’d expected him to pounce on her the moment she got the door closed.

  Instead, he sat in a nearby chair.

  “Undress for me.”

  She hesitated at the command. No one gave her orders. Even when she’d been kicked out of her kingdom and left to the streets, no one dared tell her what to do. Or, at least, no one did and expected to live.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I want to see your body, and I want you to put it on display for me.”

  She felt her sex become slick despite her anger. “I don’t follow orders well.”

  “If you want me in your bed, I suggest you make a concerted effort.”

  The rat bastard! His caresses had left her hurting with raw desire. Now she had to either do w
hat he said or send him away. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave, but only a growl of irritation escaped.

  “You don’t want to be naked in front of me? How odd. I never saw you as the timid type who needed the torches doused and had to be securely tucked under a blanket before being taken by a lover.”

  She recognized the taunt as a ploy. He was trying to get her to undress for him by challenging her. Still, the baiting worked. She wanted to show him she wasn’t afraid of him. And she certainly wasn’t some modest wallflower who couldn’t commit when the time came.

  “I have no problem being naked in front of you or any other male.”

  There it was. The eye twitch that told her she had hit the nerve. Now she could undress. She started with the laces of her corset. She pulled on the string and let it come undone slowly. He wanted a show, he’d damn well get one. And, if he were worthy of her bed, he’d better be able to hold on to that unflappable control through the entire process.

  She bit her lip as she loosened the top. Normally, she would just pull on it until she could slip it over her head and throw it on the floor. But that wouldn’t do tonight. She turned her back to him and wiggled her hips as she pulled the garment off. When she was finally free of the garment, she put her hands over her breasts and turned to face him.

  “I would think you’d enjoy yourself more if you were naked as well.” She winked at him as she started caressing the full globes of her breasts.

  “Don’t worry about me. You still have the breeches to remove.”

  She smiled. “You’re right. How thoughtless of me.”

  She let her fingers trail over her sleek stomach and down the flare of her hips. When she reached the band of the pants, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband and then stopped.

  “But I’ll have to remove my boots first.”

  He sat up straighter as she crossed the room to him.