The Forsaken King

“Yes.”

“How high is this cliff?”

“Very.”

“So, it can’t be attacked from the ground?”

“Not unless they can fly.”

“Is that where you live?” I asked. “In the castle?”

“No.” He gave a slight chuckle. “I’m too old to live with my mother.”

“Well, it looks big enough for all three of you.”

It was a long walk through the city, moving down the different streets until the castle came closer into view. I didn’t realize we’d reached our destination until Huntley stopped in front of a gate in a wall. A two-story building was behind it, mostly hidden behind the stone and the ivy that grew over it.

He pulled out a key and opened the door.

“This is where you live?” I stepped inside, seeing a small garden with flowers, plants, and trees. There was a sitting area next to a fountain, even though he seemed like someone who didn’t take time to socialize.

He locked the gate behind us. “I like my space. And I don’t like bullshit.”

“Is there a lot of bullshit at the castle?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He walked to the front door of his home and unlocked it next.

“Where does Ian live?”

“You ask a lot of questions about my brother.” He stepped inside, emerging into a kitchen with a dining table.

“I know you guys are close. Reminds me of Ryker and me.” There were counters, a stove, pantries probably filled with food. The dining table could fit four people comfortably. Everything was made of dark wood, which suited his personality perfectly.

The next room was the living room, several couches all arranged around a large fireplace, nearly three times as big as the one in the cabin. Down the hallway was the bathroom and his office.

That meant the upstairs must just be bedrooms.

I guided myself up the banister and emerged into one large bedroom. The bed was bigger than the one at the cabin, and the fireplace was just like the one on the bottom floor. Candles were everywhere, probably to light up the rooms after the sun went down. “Am I staying here with you?”

“Yes. But don’t get comfortable. We’re leaving in a few days.”

“Why?” It would take me a few days just to recuperate from the ride here.

“Because we have shit to do.”

“What shit?”

He gave me an irritated look. “You agreed to help me, remember?”

“I thought that was why we’re here.”

“No.”

“Oh…” I suspected where we were going would be a major step down from this.

He studied my expression. “You like it here.”

“Yeah. Reminds me of home.”

His expression hardened for just a second.

Sometimes I forgot that we had the same home. It was still there waiting for me—but it had been savagely taken from him. “Sorry…”

He brushed it off. “Stay here. I’ll be back later.”

“Can I walk around—”

“No.”

“You really think I’m going to run? Climb over that gate like a fucking spider?”

“I said stay.”

“I’m not a fucking dog!”

His nostrils gave a slight flare.

“I’m not asking your permission—”

“You forget who you are now. You aren’t the Duchess of Delacroix. You’re my fucking prisoner, and if I tell you to stay, you fucking stay. Your entitlement is fucking obnoxious—”

“Demanding to be treated better than a dog is obnoxious to you? Then I’m glad I’m obnoxious. I’m going to be so fucking obnoxious—”

His hand was on my neck, and then he crashed our mouths together, silencing my protest with his crushing kiss. His body backed me up, kept making me go until I hit the wall. He cornered me, pushing me into the surface like it was a mattress. One hand reached into my breeches and found my nub, and he rubbed it as hard as he kissed me, one hand still on my neck.

It was like the fight had never happened, totally absent from my mind, and my hands dug into the back of his hair like I’d wanted to do for the last three days. I’d had to lie beside him two nights in a row, only able to sleep and do nothing else, which was so hard considering he was the sexiest bastard I’d ever seen.

My mouth devoured his as I fell into the oblivion that only he could give me. He swept me away in a passion so hot, it was like nothing else existed. I wasn’t far away from home. I was at home—with him. It made everything better.

The climax hit me unexpectedly because he had complete control of my body. He rubbed me just the way I liked, thoroughly acquainted with my body by this point, and he released my lips so I could moan, so my hips could buck against his palm as the tears formed in the corners of my eyes.

With his face hard and flushed with heat, he watched, watched the climax hit and enjoyed the show until the curtains closed.

My arm hooked around his neck, and I rested my face against his shoulder, breathing, feeling my body go weak as if someone snuffed the life right out of me.