her affirmation.
“Then you know how they make you think you want to do whatever depraved thing they’ve asked of you. Or worse, sometimes they let you remember why you don’t. Either way, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t stop you from following their orders. You’re trapped inside your body. Things I did then…” Eliya gasped when he cut off her oxygen. His cock stirred. “That’s not who I am.”
God he hoped that wasn’t him.
“Dillon—”
Shame thickened his voice. “The old queen has fallen.” Too bad his memory hadn’t toppled with her. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He’d never spoken of his time with Eliya, not even to Harper. Knowing Dillon had been hand-picked to sire a child and sate the queen’s curiosity? To answer the question of what do you get when you cross a purebred Evanti and an Askaran royal?
The answer was the Princess Madelyn DeGray.
If not for Dillon’s attempt on Eliya’s life, he would have fathered her child, and her consort, Emma’s father, Archer, would have gutted him instead of Zehiel, the male who had taken his place in Eliya’s bed. Talk about family trees growing twisted as hell. Harper would have been his in-law since Harper’s brother, Clayton, had married Madelyn. Seeing her on Earth during the five years they’d both called the Dempsey colony home had caused the old sore to fester and rot.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Madelyn. He just couldn’t stomach being near her, or Emma.
Isabeau touched his arm. “I’m glad you confided in me.”
Pinpricks stung his cheeks. “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to.”
Her fingertips trailed the hottest part of his cheek. “You’re such a contradiction.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been called worse.”
“With your temper, and your mouth, I can imagine.” Her thumb swiped across his bottom lip, pressed inside his mouth to wet the tip of her finger before she painted damp swirls on his skin.
He nipped her thumb. “I didn’t hear any complaints about my mouth earlier.”
Her smile twisted his insides. “That’s because you were putting it to good use.”
That twinkle in her eyes was what did it. He warned her, “I’m going to kiss you.”
Leaning into him, she was soft and willing, and for the moment, his. “All right.”
His head lowered as her lips parted. Forcing her head back, he claimed her mouth until they both panted. Grasping her hips, he lifted her, carried her to the rear of the sled and set her on the edge. While their kiss heated, his hands slid beneath her skirt. Damn filmy thing had so many layers he couldn’t find skin to touch it. He cursed. She laughed. He groaned as his fingers made that contact, gliding past the apex of her thighs and finding her bare. His lungs froze. His hand dropped. He hadn’t expected that. Arching her hips, she closed the gap. His eyes closed. “Fuck.”
Isabeau tensed beneath him.
His chin brushed her cheek. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He shouldn’t have done that.
Her response was to cup him through his pants, coaxing him to painful fullness.
Fabric ripped, or maybe it was his sanity that tore. Mated. Claimed. Hers. Too dangerous .
Isabeau’s exploration halted. “Did you hear that?”
“No.” He rocked into her hand, but those talented fingers of hers weren’t moving. “It’s probably—” Then he saw the flicker of shadows creeping around the tent’s perimeter. “Damn.”
Chapter Four
Dillon adjusted Isabeau’s skirt and eased his throbbing cock from her grip. “Stay still.” More shadows scurried to form a ring around the tent. A quick glance cast over his shoulder told him someone was making fast work of slicing the thick ties securing the rear flap, the sled exit.
“Perfect timing.” His exhale was equal parts relief and frustration. “We’ve got company.”
A familiar voice called, “Exit the tent and keep your hands where I can see them.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Dillon answered
Philip Webb
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