Page 112 of Dhampira

Lorcan was good at pretending. But he didn’t fool me anymore.

“I don’t think I hate you,” I said. “Despite my best efforts.”

Lorcan’s smile softened, chasing the shadows from his eyes. Slowly, tentatively, he brushed his thumb over my cheek, trailing heat in his wake. “That’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me.”

Something just as tentative as his touch shimmered between us. Without being totally aware of what I was doing, I pulled in a deep breath. “Do women often speak to you, Your Highness?” I asked, my voice more breath than sound.

But Lorcan heard just fine. His smile faded, leaving only intensity.

“Not often,” he murmured, “but if I found the right one, I would welcome her words.” He leaned in, his eyes going to my mouth. “Princess,” he whispered, pressing his lips to mine.

His past kisses had been hard. Possessive. This was different. He wasn’t putting on a show. No, this kiss was for us alone.

He didn’t demand or force his way inside. Sliding a hand around my nape, he speared his fingers into my hair, cradling my head as he licked along the seam of my lips. When I opened them on a soft moan, he answered it, his deeper sound of desire curling through me. At last, I had my answer. Lorcan desired women.

He desired me.

Our tongues met in a slick, hot slide, both of us giving and taking. Moving in harmony as we had in the ballroom. And like the ballroom, our coming together was a dizzying, whirling rush. But Lorcan held me steady, his body heat caressing mine before he stepped into me, easing me against the books at my back. The proof of his desire pressed between my legs, the hard length nudging the ache between my thighs.

And I knew exactly what he looked like there—how long and large, his shaft traced with plump veins my fangs ached to pierce. The forbidden thought put another moan in my throat as I curled my fingers into his jacket and pulled him closer. Kissed him harder.

I kissed him in the same corner where I’d kissed Vander, our bodies protected by Vander’s ward. My body hummed just as readily for Lorcan as it had for Vander…and for Vander and Lorcan together. Maybe that made me wanton, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not when the pressure of Lorcan’s body against mine felt so good. Nocta had offered me nothing but fear and bitterness, but this was sweet.

Lorcan was…sweet. And earnest. He pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, his breathing uneven.

“I’m not going to apologize for that,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t ask me to regret it.”

I swallowed, tasting him. “I won’t ask you to be sorry for something I don’t regret, either.”

He lifted his head, worry in his eyes as he cupped my face. “We have to keep pretending. It’s more important than ever.”

Fear crept back, my lack of magical ability like a weight in my gut. “I know.”

“And we can’t linger here.”

“All right.”

Lorcan reached behind me and pulled a book from the shelf. Turning it in his hands, he gave a humorless laugh before showing me the cover. “The Battle Strategies of the Drachvi,” he read. A wry smile touched his lips. “More like a treatise on how to lose a war.”

My heart clenched, and questions formed in my mind. There was a story behind his scars. But for now, at least, it was too painful for him to share.

He straightened, arrogance settling over him like a cloak. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” I didn’t have a choice. Neither of us did.

“Rix,” he said, stepping from the corner and striding to the door. When he left without waiting for me, I hurried after him.

His boots echoed, the clipped footfalls like a clock ticking as we moved through the corridors. Within minutes, Lorcan stopped before my door.

It swung open on its own.

“We train again in the morning,” Lorcan said, his eyes cold and impersonal. “Try not to be a disappointment.”

He left.

For a moment, I stood alone in the corridor, Lorcan’s footsteps fading in the air. A second later, more footsteps rang out, and a knight with chestnut hair eased around the corner. He nodded as our eyes met.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness.”