A Court of Bones & Sorrow (Lunaria Realms #2)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Kieran

I surveyed the plate resting on the worn, wooden, raised table at the center of the main kitchen. Leora—the Moroi in charge of the kitchen staff at House Harker and the best baker in existence—was shooting amused glances at me while she was baking some honey biscuits. They were a common snack, since they required few ingredients to make and honey was one thing we had in abundance. Almost all of our sweets were honey-something. Luckily for me, I loved honey and never got tired of it. Samara was the same, which was why half the plate was made up of freshly baked biscuits.

“Are you waiting for them to speak some words of wisdom to you?” Leora mused. “I admit, I am rather talented, but even my skills have limits.”

“Perhaps I’m debating if I want to bring them to Samara or if I simply want to hoard these all to myself?” I grinned at the older Moroi woman who had been a staple at House Harker for as long as I could remember.

She rolled her eyes and plucked two more biscuits off the tray before placing them on the plate. “There.” She made a shooing motion. “Now out with you so I can get back to work. You’re distracting me.”

“Leora, my wondrous beauty.” I gave her my best smile that usually resulted in panties being thrown in my direction. “You know I would marry you in a heartbeat if you would only ask.”

“You’re just as ridiculous now as you were when you first arrived.” She picked up the plate and thrust it into my hands, her light brown eyes glittering with mirth. “And if Calus hears you talking like that, he’ll wallop you good.”

I laughed and kissed her cheek. “We can’t have that. Tell him I’ll stop by later this week. It’s been a while since we chatted.”

Grabbing the food, I beat a hasty retreat. I knew from experience that Leora would go from teasing and laughing to prying into my personal life if I stayed any longer. Her husband, Calus, was the same way. The two of them were fourth-generation Moroi, like Carmilla, and were considerably older than the mid-fifties they appeared to be. We’d celebrated Calus’ 130th birthday over the winter, and Leora was only a few years behind him.

When I’d first come to House Harker as a jaded fourteen-year-old, they had instantly taken me under their wings. Everything was so different here than House Corvinus. My parents were high-ranking advisors there, and they’d viewed me and my siblings as nothing more than pawns in their scheming. Growing up, I’d learned quickly to control every single facial expression and measure every word carefully.

It was common for Houses to trade courtiers amongst themselves. Usually the children of people like my parents or the lower-ranking family members of whatever bloodline ruled the House. Everyone knew these courtiers were loyal to their birth Houses, and yet the practice continued, because there was always the chance you could sway their allegiance and then get information about the inner workings of the House they’d come from.

Our survival depended on the Moroi Houses working together, both for a solid defense against the wraiths and other monsters, and for resources like the gems that powered our wards. Every House controlled at least one unique resource, and the negotiations between them were ongoing and tedious. Samara loved dealing with all that bullshit. Alaric liked it too.

But that wasn’t where my skills lay. I was excellent at getting people to like me, and when people liked you . . . they talked to you. Carmilla had never asked me to spy on other Houses or collect information for her benefit. The first few years here, I’d been practically holding my breath, waiting for her to make the request, the demand.

It had never come.

And that was why my loyalty would always be to this House. Carmilla wanted her people to be happy, and so did Samara. Both of them could be cunning and underhanded at times when it came to dealing with the other Houses—there was simply no surviving in this world without a little bit of that—but Carmilla knew the names of every single person who worked in this House, down to the lowliest maid. Samara worshiped her aunt and was the same.

House Harker was home to me.

I smiled at some of the servants as they walked by, heads bent as they whispered to each other and giggled, but then my pleasant mood vanished as I heard Draven’s name. I’d been trying very hard not to think about him for the last twenty minutes. Not exactly a long-term plan, given his reason for being here and what Samara and the others had discovered about him, but not thinking about Prince Draven had been my go-to strategy for almost a year now.

As if summoned by the brief slip of my thoughts, the dark- haired prince appeared at my side and snatched a biscuit off the plate.

“There you are.” He broke a piece off the sweet pastry and popped it into his mouth, then his eyes closed as he savored the flavor, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from lingering on his strong jawline, remembering the number of times I had run my tongue across it before grazing his neck with my fangs. I’d never drank from him, nor him from me—that’d been one of the few lines we hadn’t crossed in our time together.

I snapped my gaze up and clenched my jaw when his eyes opened and he caught me looking at him. “These aren’t for you.” Then I quickened my pace down the hallway, smiling tightly at others who passed us as they tried to subtly check out the prince before looking at me curiously. I knew what they were thinking. Why was the Moroi Prince talking to a simple courtier who held no sway in this House, especially when he’d been dismissive of the higher-ranking advisors all morning?

I gritted my teeth. As much as I loved collecting gossip, I didn’t like to be the source of it.

“So touchy.” He chuckled darkly. “At least you’re speaking to me now. It was quite impressive how you managed to avoid me while you were at the Sovereign House and then not speak to me on the entire ride here . . . I recall you being a bit more vocal in our interactions, especially that one time?—”

A growl ripped from my throat as I grabbed Draven by the arm and dragged him into an empty meeting room. Then I shoved him away from me and slammed the door behind us, dropping the plate onto the table, resisting the urge to throw it at him. He smirked at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“It’s been fun, but I’m bored now,” I said coldly, repeating the words he’d said to me. “Also, watch how you speak to me in the future, courtier.”

The smirk slid off his face as he tossed the half-eaten biscuit onto the table before letting out a bone-weary sigh. “I had to say that, Kier. The wrong people were noticing how much time I was spending with you, and it was getting dangerous for the both of us.”

I flinched inwardly at hearing him call me that. Until Draven, only Sam had ever called me Kier. Hearing the nickname from his lips again caused all the confusing emotions to swirl up inside until I ruthlessly shoved them back down.

“I’m assuming by ‘the wrong people,’ you mean the queen?” I asked flatly. The muscles along his jawline flexed, but he said nothing. I snorted and shook my head. Queen Velika was a puzzle to me. On the surface, she appeared to be a fair and just ruler who loved her son, although she was occasionally frustrated by his disinterest in helping her rule. But during my time with Draven, I knew there was more to her, something darker.

There was nothing specific I could point to, nothing I’d witnessed with my own eyes, but Draven was a different person around her. It was subtle, but no one was better than me at reading body language. He obeyed her no matter what, but it wasn’t out of love. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was frightened of her. And every once in a while, I’d catch her looking at him in a way that reminded me of a predator circling wounded prey.

It was why I had probably been the least surprised when Samara had theorized it was actually Queen Velika who was allied with the wraiths and Draven was doing her bidding. What I’d never understood, though, was why she had such a hold over her son.

Draven’s dark eyes met mine. “What have you told Samara?”

“Nothing yet.” I waved a hand at the plate I’d set aside. “But I’ll be telling her everything soon enough.”

“She was always the one you wanted.” He shrugged a shoulder casually, as if our time together had meant nothing to him. “So I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Fuck you, Draven,” I snarled. “You weren’t a fucking backup plan to me. I fucking—” The words died in my throat, and I took a deep breath. “My feelings towards you were genuine and unique to what we shared. I never hid what I felt about Samara from you. I’m perfectly capable of loving two people at once.”

He sucked in a breath, and for a moment, I swore his heart stopped beating.

“You shouldn’t have ever loved me.” The bloodred threads in his eyes expanded as he pondered me like I was a creature he couldn’t understand. “I told you not to love me.”

“That’s not how fucking feelings work, Drav!” I shoved my hands against his chest, and he staggered back a step. “If you hurt Sam, I swear to the gods, I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he bit out.

“But you will if you’re ordered to,” I scoffed bitterly.

“Please, Kier,” he pleaded. Usually, Draven soaked up attention with his tall frame and broad build, but now, he hunched his shoulders, and there was a desperation to his expression I’d never seen before. I barely managed to stop myself from wrapping my arms around him and telling him that we’d figure it out. That he just had to tell us what the fuck was going on. But I held it all back because, despite the churning feelings burning inside my chest, Draven couldn’t be trusted.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake,” he rasped. “Samara is trapped in this, but you don’t have to be. Go visit your friends in the Velesian realm. Just leave the Moroi realm.”

The urge to hug him instantly turned into a desire to strangle him. Did he seriously think I would leave Samara behind to face all of this on her own?

I picked the plate up off the table. “I don’t abandon those I love. Maybe that’s something you should consider in the future.”

His expression shuttered, but he didn’t say anything as I opened the door and left, something inside my soul cracking when he didn’t stop me.

Samara was already seated behind her desk in the cozy little study she’d reclaimed as her own upon returning to House Harker. There were larger rooms available in the wing where Carmilla’s spacious study was located—as the Heir, Samara could have kicked out any of the advisors and set up in one of those—but she’d always loved this space the most.

Before she’d left for Drudonia, she’d study here for hours. I’d always keep her company while she buried herself in books, scrolls, maps, whatever she could get her hands on. Even Alaric had joined us sometimes, although that had always devolved into the two of them taking verbal—and sometimes physical—swipes at each other. I let out an amused breath. Nothing had changed there.

Dark purple eyes lifted from the page they’d been reading and latched onto the plate. “Freshly baked honey biscuits?” she asked hopefully.

“Leora just made them.” I smirked and walked over to the small seating area I’d crammed into the space. The outer wall was mostly windows, and the other three were lined with shelves. Samara hadn’t been keen on adding more furniture to the already small space, but I’d insisted. Her desk and two chairs were on one half of the room, and I’d brought in two more chairs—with far comfier cushions—and tucked them away in the corner next to a window.

I placed the plate onto the table in between them and sank into one of the chairs. “If you want one, you’re going to have to come over here though.” Her brows furrowed as she frowned at all the papers scattered across her desk. “I promise whatever you’re working on will still be there after you’ve taken a break and eaten something.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh but rose to join me. I smiled to myself. Samara was always worried about Roth getting caught up in whatever they were working on and forgetting to eat or otherwise care for themself, but she was the same way. My lovely Samara had a bad habit of putting everyone’s needs before her own.

Luckily, she had me, and I had no problem putting her needs before everyone else’s.

“This is heaven,” she groaned around a mouthful of biscuit, her hair still damp and clinging to the deep purple dress she wore. The color almost perfectly matched her eyes and made her golden brown skin practically glow. I was imagining peeling it off her later when she asked the question I’d been dreading. “So what’s the deal with you and Draven?”

A cool dread solidified in the pit of my stomach as I rose to close the door and activate the silencing spell. Samara drew her legs up beneath her and settled further back into her chair as I took a seat again, her expression patient and supportive.

“It was hard when you left for House Laurent,” I started. “It’s not like I didn’t know you’d be marrying Demetri, but when we were growing up, that was always something distant in the future. Even when you went to study at Drudonia, you’d still come back often, but when you left . . .” I swallowed. “It felt like someone had ripped out a piece of my soul, and I didn’t know how to fix that.”

Her eyes darkened, and her voice was rough as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, Kier.”

I shrugged and forced my lips to curve into a small smile. “It’s not your fault. Like I said, it’s not like I didn’t know what was coming. ”

“Still, I shouldn’t have gone through with that marriage.” She twisted her hands in her lap as she stared at them with an unseeing gaze. “I was so obsessed with doing what I thought was the right thing for House Harker. After my parents—” Her voice caught on the last word, and my heart clenched.

She never spoke about her parents, and I never pushed her about it. Everyone knew how the previous rulers of House Harker had died. They’d been gone for years before I’d come to live here, and whenever their names were mentioned around Samara, I could practically watch the emotion drain from her face. Everyone seemed to think she had handled the loss of her parents well and had rallied to support House Harker. They praised her as if she were the perfect example of everything a House Heir should be.

I didn’t understand how no one could see how, over a decade later, Samara was still devastated by the death of her parents. Her grief was a never-ending well that she did her best to keep covered. I didn’t know how to help with that because I’d never lost anyone I’d cared about as deeply as Samara did her parents. The only person I’d ever loved was her.

And Draven.

“I probably should have brought us a bottle of wine in addition to the biscuits.” I blew out a deep breath, and Samara chuckled wryly.

“Yeah . . . or maybe some shots of whatever liquor Leora has hidden away in the bottom cupboard of the storage room.” Her lips trembled for a second before she caught it and pursed them together. “After my parents died, I felt like I had to do everything perfectly. Everyone was counting on me to uphold their legacy. The alliance with House Laurent was my way of furthering House Harker’s power.” She shook her head ruefully. “And it was a complete failure.”

“Not your fault,” I said sharply. “Demetri is a piece of shit, and that House never deserved you. I should have told you back then how much I loved you and begged you to stay.”

I’d been too scared that she would acknowledge that she felt the same . . . and then go on to marry Demetri anyway. Because that was what had been expected of her, and she never would have let her House—or more importantly, her aunt—down.

Samara raised her gaze from her hands to look at me and gave me a soft, genuine smile. “I’m sad we wasted so many years.” Then her eyes became hard and possessive. “You’re mine, Kier, and I’ll never leave you again.”

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” I growled as my cock thickened at her words and the truth I felt behind them.

“You can.” She winked. “ After you tell me about Draven.”

I sighed and slouched in the chair. “Being at House Harker was hard after you left. So I started traveling even more than normal. Checking in with the outposts, visiting some of the other Houses and also the Sovereign House. During one of those visits, the queen was throwing one of those ridiculous masquerades she loves.”

“They’re such a waste of resources.” Samara’s mouth twisted in distaste. “I’ve brought it up to Carmilla before, hoping that maybe because she’s Velika’s friend, she could get the queen to tone them down or at least do them less often, but apparently, Velika feels very strongly that it’s important we build up and maintain a Moroi culture.”

“A culture that only the elite can take part in,” I pointed out, and Samara scrunched her nose as she made a noise of agreement. “I was leaning against the wall, watching all those gathered engage in all kinds of wild debauchery, when Draven suddenly appeared next to me. Even with the mask on, I knew it was him. ”

“He does have a certain . . . presence about him,” Samara admitted.

I nodded. “That he does. I didn’t know what to do or say to him. We’d been in the same room before, but he’d never directly spoken to me. He just turned to me with a wicked grin and said, ‘So, are you having fun collecting all sorts of gossip and potential blackmail material, Kieran?’” I let out a soft chuckle. “I was so fucking surprised not only that he was speaking to me but that he knew my name, that I almost dropped my wineglass.”

“He didn’t leave my side for the entire party. Other guests would come up and ask him to dance or join them in conversation, and he just politely declined. We spent the entire time pointing out who was fucking who, which House was trying to screw over another one on a trade deal, and any other saucy tidbit we could think of.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. “It was the first time I forgot about my longing for you and just . . . enjoyed life.”

Samara leaned forward and stretched her arms out so she could clasp my hands in hers. “I’m glad, Kier. Whatever else Draven has done and whatever the future holds, I’m glad he at least gave you that happiness, if only for a night.”

“Oh, there were many nights he gave me happiness .” I arched an eyebrow as my lips curved into a satisfied smile. Samara threw her head back and released a throaty laugh as she leaned back in her chair, and something inside me eased at hearing that laugh. I’d been dreading this conversation, not only because talking about it was painful, but I’d been worried Samara wouldn’t be comfortable discussing one of my past lovers.

Our relationship still felt so new and fragile that I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it, but I never should have doubted Sam. She and Alaric were my best friends and had always supported me through anything without judgment .

Okay, well, Alaric could be a judgey bastard, but Sam never was, and eventually, Alaric would get over his opinion of me and Sam being in a relationship. I had a few ideas to help with that and get him to admit what his real problem was . . .

“So what happened?” she asked gently after sitting upright in her chair once more. “Because I could feel the tension between you two earlier.”

“For almost a year, I made regular visits to the Sovereign House.” I rubbed my face in a vain attempt to make the words come out easier. “Sometimes, he would show up at the outposts I was staying at. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow, he’d get into my room without anyone seeing him. We talked. He’d tell me about his life, all the things no one saw, and I talked about mine. What it was like growing up at House Corvinus and moving here. It was nice,” I confessed. “Talking to him was just . . . easy. Having someone on the outside of it all to talk to about everything. I think he felt the same.”

Samara nodded in understanding. “My relationship with Draven prior to all of this was different than yours, and I wouldn’t exactly say we were friends.” She paused and thought about it a little more. “No, that’s not right—we were definitely friends. We never spoke outside of times when I would visit the Sovereign House or the few times he would come to House Harker, never traded messages via striker or anything like that, but anytime we were in the same place, he would just appear like magic. It didn’t matter if we hadn’t seen each other in months or even years. The camaraderie was there, and falling into conversation with him always felt so natural.”

“You should know . . .” I inhaled a deep breath. “I talked about you with him. About how I felt about you. The way we flirted with each other nonstop growing up. How you marrying Demetri devastated me. He knows all of that.” Part of me wondered if that’d been what he’d wanted all along. That everything between us had been a lie and he’d just wanted information on Samara.

But just like I’d been too scared to ask Samara to stay before she’d left for House Laurent, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to confront Draven about it. Instead, I’d just let the humiliating thought fester in the back of my mind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Samara narrowed her eyes at me. “That he was just using you for information.”

“Your perceptiveness is annoying,” I said wryly as guilt nipped at me. I should never have spoken to him.

“I’ll repeat what I said earlier,” she said, ignoring my comment. “I’m glad you had someone to talk to about all of this, because we both know Alaric would have been a prick about it.” Then her eyes darkened, and something predatory looked out. “But if it turns out Draven was using you that whole time—which I don’t think he was, but I could be wrong—I’ll make him fucking regret it.”

She would. I had absolutely no doubt about it. “I think we have bigger problems to worry about, but I appreciate the sentiment.” My throat tightened around the words.

She sniffed. “You’ll always be a priority to me, Kier.”

I smiled widely at her. “And again, I really want to fuck you right now.”

“Of course you do. I’m amazing.” She waved a hand towards me, gesturing for me to continue. “How does this story end?”

“We were discreet about our relationship, but I did occasionally speak to him at parties held at the Sovereign House. Six months ago, I walked up to him and greeted him casually . . . too casually, considering he was a prince and I was just . . . me.”

Samara’s eyes flared in anger as I spoke about myself in such a dismissive manner, but she didn’t interrupt, which I was grateful for. I hadn’t told anyone about me and Draven, not even Alaric. He would have berated me for being so foolish to get involved with the Moroi Prince in such a way. More importantly, Alaric traveled in different circles than me. As one of Carmilla’s personal advisors, there had been a very real chance that he would have been in the same room as Draven one day, seated at the same table, and Alaric had a problem keeping his fucking mouth shut. The last thing I needed was him getting into a verbal sparring match with Draven in front of the queen.

I closed my eyes as I pushed the words out. The ones that had cut a deep wound in my already scarred heart. “He looked at me with this cool, almost bored expression and said, ‘ It’s been fun, but I’m bored now. Also, watch how you speak to me in the future, courtier. ’ And then he just walked off to stand by his mother’s side. He didn’t look at me, but she did.” My jaw tightened as I remembered the cruel, arrogant smile that had flashed across her face that night. “She must have learned about our relationship and didn’t approve. So Draven ended it. Maybe he already had all the information he wanted . . . I don’t know.”

Samara stared out the window, her brows slightly creased. I knew that look. She was cycling through scenarios in her head, analyzing each possibility before moving on to the next. I also knew from experience that it was best to let her sort through her thoughts, so I snagged a biscuit off the plate and ate it slowly, savoring each sweet bite.

“We need to determine what exactly the deal is between Draven and his mother,” she said thoughtfully. “Considering what happened between the two of you and the little hints I’ve seen, I think there is nothing but hate between them, but he clearly serves her. We need to know why.”

“Do you want to find this out because it will actually help us, or so that I feel like less of a fool for getting involved with him in the first place?” I tossed the rest of my biscuit back onto the table. “Because I’m an adult, Sam. It pains me that I got played and that I let my feelings go too far. That I thought I might be in—” I yanked that word from my throat before it could slip past my lips and stomped on it. Then I inhaled and let out a deep breath. “Draven and I are in the past. I just wanted you to know because I will never hide anything from you, and because he will no doubt wield my past with him against us.”

“He already tried to,” she admitted, still staring out the window, half-lost in her thoughts. I bit my lip, toying with the question I wanted to ask.

“If things were different . . .” I cleared my throat. “If you didn’t know Draven was mixed up with the wraiths and he came here to ask you to consider marrying him . . . would you?”

Samara’s head whipped towards me, and she scowled before unwinding herself from the chair and closing the distance between us. My arms slipped around her as she slid onto my lap, and her fingers trailed up my chest before wrapping around my throat and squeezing lightly. I released a breathy exhale at the feeling of her nails digging into my skin.

“No, I would not consider marrying him,” she said evenly, and I believed her. Maybe it made me the biggest fool in the world, but I had no doubt she meant every word. “I do admit that I’ve always found him attractive and . . . intriguing. Perhaps I would have let him into my bed.” Her lips curved into a sinful grin. “ Our bed. But I would have spoken to you about it first, and if you weren’t okay with it, then I wouldn’t have taken things any further with him.”

Moonsdamn it all, but my cock hardened at the thought of Samara and Draven in bed together. With me. Without me. Either was hot. Even with everything he had done to me and what we knew about him now, my body still reacted to Draven completely of its own accord, the same way it reacted to Samara. The thought of both of them together ?

Samara released my neck and let out a husky laugh. “Feeling excited, Kier?”

“You are all kinds of wicked.” I shook my head ruefully, even as I smiled at her.

She shifted until her legs were dangling off the side of the chair, and she nuzzled my neck. “Dinner tonight is going to be intense.” Warm, full lips brushed against my throat, and I let one of my hands slip down to her thigh, slipping underneath the high slit of her dress. “We should take this opportunity to blow off some steam,” she murmured.

“Excellent idea.” My fingers drifted upward, and Samara spread her legs a little further apart, causing a deep chuckle to rumble out of me. “Is there somewhere in particular you want my fingers to be?”

She nipped my neck before raising her head and glaring at me. “Don’t even think of making me beg. Between Draven and Alaric, I’ve had more than enough frustration today.”

“Oh?” Her breath hitched as my fingers just barely passed over her undergarments. So wet already. I wanted to rip them aside and feel the hot slickness beneath them but couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “And what did our dear Alaric do to piss you off this time?”

I let my fingers brush harder against the soaked fabric, and Samara moaned, nestling further into me.

“The same as he always does,” she said through panted breaths. “That me and you were a bad idea and that he knew it would end like this. I informed him that nothing had changed and that you were still mine and that he should stay out of our fucking business. I might have thrown a dagger at him to punctuate the point.”

“The two of you are ridiculous.” I slipped my fingers beneath the fabric, and we both groaned at the dripping heat I found. “I love how wet you get for me,” I growled. “Even before I touch you. ”

“Show me how much.” She arched her back, and I leaned down to capture her mouth with mine. Then I slowly pushed two fingers inside her while I continued to circle her clit with my thumb. Samara whimpered, and I smiled against her lips, loving the sounds she made when I was inside her. Maybe I could get some new ones out of her this time . . .

“I have another secret to tell you,” I whispered. Alaric would probably punch me for this later, but I knew my friend. His way of handling emotions, particularly confusing ones, was to lash out. I’d given him the time he needed to come to terms with how he really felt about Sam, but he was still stubbornly fighting it. He’d never even admitted to me how much he wanted her. But I’d noticed every heated glance he sent her way when she wasn’t looking and the way his heart had practically stopped beating when he’d walked in on us at the hot springs weeks before. Enough was enough.

“What?” Sam panted.

“He’s so pissed off all the time”—I thrust my fingers in deep, and her hips bucked in demand—“because he wishes it were his fingers doing this to you right now.”

Dark eyelashes fluttered as Sam took in my words. “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t.” I pumped my fingers in and out, loving the way her pussy clenched around me. “He might wish he did sometimes.”

“You can’t tell me things like that when you’re—” Her words choked off as I pushed down on her clit and she unraveled. “Fuck!”

I let out a dark laugh as she trembled in my lap before pulling my fingers out and licking them clean. “Delicious,” I murmured. Sam watched every swipe of my tongue with dark, hungry eyes. “We’ll continue this discussion later when you’re a little less distracted. Up you go.” I maneuvered her body until she was straddling me with her back to my chest. “I might have gotten these chairs with a certain position in mind.”

“Of course you did.” She laughed in a low, husky tone.

“What can I say?” I teased as I unlaced my pants and pulled my cock free. “Every time I see a piece of furniture, I think about the best way to fuck you on it.”

I could feel her thighs quivering as my cock pushed against her entrance, and I felt a desperate need to be buried inside her. Originally, my plan had been to fuck her slow and tease her a bit, but I needed at least the first round to be hard and fast. Just as I was about to thrust all the way in, the door swung open. Shit. I’d forgotten to lock it.

Samara went completely still in my grip as Alaric’s pissed off expression fell on the both of us.