by Frank Tuttle
“Inaeus, shut up. I’m trying to sleep.” Conde twisted over in her blankets. “I’d forgotten how annoying that habit of yours was.”
“The Witches were silent?”
“The Witches didn’t trust me either.”
“I trust you, Conde.”
“Yes,” her laugh was bitter, “of course you do.” She presented her back to him. Firelight burned over her red hair and he itched to stroke its smoothness. However, his fingers curled in his palm. “Still can’t do it, can you, Inaeus?” She pulled the furs and blankets tight around her body. “Night.”
“Our status has always stood between us. Even now.”
The fire cracked and spat in the silence. Inaeus closed his eyes. He was an idiot. They probably had only hours left to live and he still couldn’t break through the walls he had built around himself.
“Honouring the League comes first with you. I always knew that.” She paused. Inaeus thought he heard a sigh. “Accepted it.” She thumped the pile of furs and resettled her head. “Never understood it, though. Bunch of rancid old men never had my loyalty.”
“I’m sure they never noticed.”
Her spluttered laughter made him grin. She turned her head back to him. “D’you think I might have been too subtle?”
Light flickered over her sleek features, her golden eyes sparking with fire. How had he resisted this woman for so many years? “I’m an idiot,” he murmured.
“No argument from me.”
“Conde.” His finger pressed against her surprised mouth. “Shut up.” She grinned and her teeth snapped at his fingertip. Blood started to move south and he shoved her blankets to one side. “If that’s how you want to play it.”
Her grin was feral. “You have no idea, Inaeus.”
He pinned her arms above her head and felt her body arch in response. “I think I might.”
“Not so rough. My bones—”
He weakened his hold instinctively and the damned woman flipped him. She straddled his hips.
“—aren’t that fragile.”
Irritation burned…but then she pressed, took a slow, slow slide along his erection and nothing else mattered. He dug his fingers into her hips, letting her think she was in control. He grinned and his fingers moved, sliding over the flatness of her stomach, until his thumb rubbed up against the soft hide of her breeches, just there…
Conde gasped and returned his grin. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Oh I am. If I wasn’t, I’d do this…” In one fluid movement, she was flat on her back again. Inaeus pinned her to the furs with his body. “Now, Conde.” His face was only inches from hers, her warm breath brushing his face. Her darkly golden eyes blazed. “We play my way.” His smile was sharp and the slow shift of his hips made her bite at her lip. Oh, he liked besting her. “Or we don’t play at all.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Inaeus smirked. “Isn’t that the point?”
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