Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Quin takes my weight as I drop back against him and work myself. But no matter how hard and fast my hand moves, I can’t . . .
I’m shaking and hiccupping and Quin presses gentle kisses against my cheek and wipes my tears.
He squeezes my shaft and takes over. “We’ll get you there.”
More, I need more.
He gives me more. Quin fucks me through three more memories behind rune doors. But now we’re in the fourth, and I’m still desperate. Still not sated. I’m watching memory Quin punishing Chaos. The slaps on his arse. The massage of his globes. The spreading open of Chaos’s cheeks.
I whirl in Quin’s arms, panting. “I know what I need.”
“Anything.”
“But this . . . you’ve never . . .”
Quin’s hands tighten around my arms.
“Please?” I whisper.
He hauls in a deep breath, then takes my hand and leads me away from Chaos and memory Quin to his bed.
He lies down and readies himself with a spell.
I’m careful.
He hisses.
I groan.
His arms wrap around me.
I sink into him. He’s so deliciously tight. Every slide takes some of the edge off, and I chase after more.
He’s at my mercy now.
He lets me be in control.
Soul deep, I’m inside him. Soul deep, I find heavenly release.
The air stretches between us, thin and fragile as a held breath.
“Bath,” Quin softly commands.
We leave through the rune door and sink into the blessed warmth of the royal bath.
It was here, once, that I submerged and anchored myself to his leg. It was here, gasping for air, that I learned I’d just mauled a king.
The memory burns my cheeks. I laugh.
Quin hums, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “Your antics whenever it came to my baths . . .”
“To the point you declared only the one who holds your lovelight may join you.” I smirk. “You forgot about that pretty quick.”
Quin grabs my hand beneath the water, tugging me close. His teeth catch my lip.
“I did not forget anything.”
“After you hauled me over your shoulder and stole me from Nicostratus you dumped me in the bath—” I stop abruptly.
Hinsard. That had been in Hinsard.
Quin had . . .
I snap my eyes to his.
“You’d already given it to me.”
A groan escapes me, and I drop my head onto Quin’s broad shoulder. “I must have tortured you back then.”
His laugh rumbles through me, a deep, grounding sound. He wraps his arms around me, pressing me against the warmth of his chest.
“So long as you know it.”
I press a kiss to his damp shoulder. “I want to share all my baths with you.”
Quin’s lips graze my ear before his teeth catch the edge, biting down.
I laugh, swatting at his chest, but he holds me there.
Just close enough to feel the heat of his breath.
TEASE AND SEEK
Not in the palace. Not in the training grounds. Not in any of his usual haunts.
Normally, a single mischievous remark would have him stepping out of the shadows with a glint in his eye, ready to lay down the law. Or just . . . lay me down.
I call into the king’s gardens, “Your pony misses you!” Nothing. “I’m about to denude all your pearl heart!” Nothing. “Fancy some pudding?”
Still nothing.
I plant my hands on my hips with a huff. Constantinos Quintus Gaillot Aetherion, where in the world are you?
The aklos and aklas shrug. The redcloaks refuse to say a word. Even Veronica genuinely has no idea. Though if she did, she might not tell me. My squirming does amuse her.
Fine!
I know at least four people Quin would have seen the day I lost him. So I stalk the royal city, hunt them down, and demand their last memory of him.
Each recollection I bind to a rune, and once I’ve etched them into a dromveske, I slip into Quin’s chambers at the dance house, smear herbal chalk over the carvings . . .
And promptly fall into some memory-walking.
With the mix of different memories, the space inside the dromveske is chaotic. A manor of sorts. One wall is jammed with books, another corner rather resembles the bathing area at the Amuletos manor, across the room are displays of various swords and bows, and yet another corner resembles an apothecary. In each area, a single rune door stands slightly aglow.
I head to the apothecary door first . . .
The king’s gardens. I spy Florentius aiding an aklo near the steps. So this is his memory. Beyond him, coming out the grand doors, is Quin himself followed by his recently returned mother.
“You’re slipping off again,” Casimiria says.
Quin fastens his cloak and takes the cane she’s holding out to him, his jaw is set in a sharp line of determination.
“Should I be worried?”
A smirk plays at Quin’s lips. “No. But Cael might.”
Casimiria shakes her head. “Then I won’t let him know.”
I hurry over to them wagging a tight finger, although this is just a memory. She cannot see. “You told me you knew nothing. We’ll have a word later,” I promise her and swing to Quin, promising him the same.