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On the way the dress clings to her curves, how her breasts swell against the gently scooping neckline. My mouth waters when I wonder if she’s wearing one of the corsets I bid the servants put in her wardrobe—bright silks against soft skin.
The more I study her, the harder it is to tear my eyes away. Watching Elora has become my new favorite pastime. And the way her hair, customarily bound in a thick braid, hangs in waves down her back makes me wonder what it would feel like to thread my fingers through it, to grip it in my fist as she slides her mouth up and down my cock.
She leans in to whisper something in Nevon’s ear, her hand resting on his bicep, and he throws his head back with a laugh. I frown. Something is different about their interaction tonight. Nevon is notoriously flirtatious. The man would flirt with anything moving if he thought it would charm them into his bed.
But where Elora usually dances around the edges of his flirtations, tonight she’s flirting back. Sitting closer, her body turned slightly toward him. When he speaks, she tilts her head, drawing his eyes down the column of her throat to her breasts.
I grip my wineglass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
All through the meal, I watch them, half-listening to Iluna talk of her feast day celebrations and how she tires of them more and more each year. She’s saying something about attending the winter ball when Nevon leans over and whispers in Elora’s ear, making color rise to her cheeks.
She nods, pushing back from the table and shooting a look in my direction. Nevon stands, reaching for her hand and leading her from the room.
It takes every ounce of strength I have not to shove out of my seat and immediately go after them. They’ve gone on walks after dinner before. But this time feels different.
This time I can’t get the image of Nevon touching her out of my head. I replace it with an image of smashing his face into the nearest wall until he’s a bloody heap on the floor, which makes me feel better. But only marginally.
“I think the queen is—”
Unable to stomach the wondering anymore, I jerk to my feet, cutting Iluna off mid-sentence.
“Pardon me,” I murmur, rounding the table and following Nevon and Elora out the door and down the hall.
I search for her again, teeth grinding together when I sense her with Nevon on the edge of the forest. The bastard is taking her to the hot springs. The same location he’s fucked countless others. Before I can stop myself, I shift to the edge of the springs and wait.
It takes only a moment before the sound of their feet on the forest floor reaches my ears. I hear the low rumble of Nevon’s voice, followed by the airy sound of Elora’s laughter. Jealousy constricts my chest until I can barely breathe.
Above my head, the trees illuminate with a delicate glow, casting a soft golden light on the bubbling water and setting a romantic mood. A scant second later, Nevon and Elora emerge from the trees. Nevon stops short when he sees me—and the look on my face. Elora’s breath rushes from her lungs in surprise.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Actually,” Elora says, lifting her chin in that defiant way that makes me want to claim every fucking inch of her for my own, “we were coming here for some privacy.”
She may not know it, but that was precisely the wrong thing to say to me.
“Nevon,” I growl in warning. “Go away.”
He hesitates, but ultimately releases Elora’s arm and shifts back to the palace. When we’re alone, she takes two steps forward, the light haloing her crown of dark hair and shimmering off her skin.
“What are you doing? Nevon and I are friends and—”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes narrow at the bite in my tone. “You were very friendly at dinner.”
I take a step toward her and she takes one back, so I advance again and again until her back is pressed against the nearest tree.
“First you hold me prisoner, and now I can’t even have friends?”
“You think Nevon was bringing you here for an idle chat?” I gesture to the springs behind me, steam curling up from the surface. “You were going to do what? Exchange recipes and talk about your new wardrobe?”
My eyes drop to the tops of her breasts, and she takes a deep breath, making them rise and strain against her corset.
“It’s none of your business what we talk about. Or do. Or where we do it.”
I inch closer, my body brushing hers and making her shiver.
“That’s where you’re wrong, little one. Everything about you is my business. Where you go. Who you speak to.” I trail my fingertip over the edge of the fabric at her shoulder, grinning when goosebumps rise across her skin. “Who you fuck. And you will not be fucking Nevon or anyone else in my realm. Understand?”
She tilts her head up to meet my eyes, bringing her mouth in line with my own. I feel the warmth of her breath against my lips, and my finger travels farther south along the edge of her gown, making her breaths come faster.
