A Curse of Blood & Stone (Fate & Flame 2)

I spend a few minutes washing up with the toiletries provided, smiling at the salt-and-mint paste. The first time I found a similar paste and linen cloth in my bathing room at the castle, I assumed it was an exfoliant. Corrin mocked me for days about rubbing toothpaste on my cheeks.

I wonder how she’s doing, how they’re all doing, with a usurper king and that vile creature about to take the queen’s throne.

Zander walks through my door unannounced as I’ve finished rinsing my mouth.

Warmth blooms in my chest.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“A little shaky, but fine for the most part.” My energy is quickly returning. Even faster now, with each potent heartbeat the sight of him stirs.

He pushes the door shut, his gaze drifting over my gauzy linen gown. His clothes are still marked with the blood and grime of last night’s battle, but he’s washed his hands and face at least. Not that I care. The last time I saw him, a ring of men with swords was trying to kill him.

I’m so relieved to see him alive.

A heady tension builds in this little room as my fingers itch to touch him, as much for comfort as this exploding physical urge.

His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “We have much to discuss.”

“So much.” But now, I can only think of how much I need him. I refuse to think of anything else. My body thrums with anticipation. “Later.” With impatient fingers, I unfasten the buttons at the collar of my nightgown and push it off my shoulders. It slides soundlessly to the worn wood floor, fanning around my feet.

Zander’s eyes flare, dragging over the length of my naked body as he sheds weapons and clothes with surprising speed. He stalks toward me with an intensity bordering on predatory. Our bodies collide, nothing left between us but raw desire and the heat of bare skin.

His mouth closes over mine as if he’s been waiting an eternity to kiss me. Strong arms wrap around my frame, one hand slipping over the small of my back, the other, weaving through my hair at my nape.

“Are you angry with me?” I whisper against his lips.

“Angry? No. I am thoroughly impressed.” The warmth of his powerful body sinks into me as he pulls me close, until every inch of our bodies touch, from our toes to our foreheads. “You never cease to amaze me with the way you always fight for the vulnerable, the weak. How can I be angry when I am consumed with admiration?” He hesitates, his breath grazing my cheek. “Are you angry with me—”

“Yes.” I punctuate that with a soft bite against his bottom lip, drawing a growl from deep inside his chest.

“Let me make it up to you, then.”

I revel in the feel of his face now buried in my neck, his tongue tracing along my skin with gentle sweeps. It’s such a disparity to his grip on my hips—tight but short of painful—as he guides us backward to the narrow table against the wall.

His biceps tense beneath my palms as he hoists me onto its surface.

“What’s wrong? The bed not good enough for you?” I tease.

“We’ll end up there, eventually.” He pushes my thighs apart, his fingers grazing over sensitive flesh.

I don’t care where he takes me as long as it’s soon, I silently admit, admiring his hard length as I adjust my position to invite him in.

But he leans in instead, his lips catching my nipple, wetting it before his teeth graze it.

I arch my back to give him better access, letting my head fall against the wall with a moan, reveling in the various sensations.

“You never worry that I’m going to take your vein, do you,” he purrs before sucking.

“I would hope you’re not that stupid.”

His chuckle vibrates in my chest. “If anyone could make me that stupid, I dare say it would be you.”

I crack an eyelid. “Do I need to worry?”

“No.” He drops to his knees in front of me, pressing a kiss to my navel before shifting farther down. “But know that I would die happy, despite my screams.”

“Do you ever wish you could?” I don’t have to elaborate.