The Black Prince: Part I Read Free Page A

only waited. There was no explanation he could give, that she’d be allowed to hear.
    “You’re handsome.”
    He favored her with a small smile of his own. Lissa, her name, meant honey in one of the northern tongues. He wondered if she’d be as sweet as that suggested.
    “And dangerous.”
    “Are you frightened?”
    She paused. “Yes.” And then, “I’m glad its me. I saw you arrest that man. The tailor. I was across the street.” There was a perfume shop across the street, he now recalled. “I…men like that deserve….” She dropped her gaze, studying some spot on the floor.
    Sliding a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up. Her eyes were a pale gray-green, the color of lake water in fog. “Thank you,” he said.
    “I want to please you.” Her words were barely above a whisper.
    He lowered his lips to hers. His touch was light at first. Gentle. Just the merest press of lips. He gave her time to consider him. To respond. Gradually, she opened her lips to his. She did taste of honey, and smelled of roses. He was paying, he knew, for the full experience. For the best. Still, she was a woman and he a man. She hadn’t eaten much since the snow had fallen and he’d sold his soul to the Dark One.
    He parted her lips with his tongue, exploring. Claiming. He caressed her supple flesh, like silk under his work-roughened hands. She shuddered, once, within the prison of his arms. And then her hands found his belt buckle. He’d already removed his boots. She slid his breeches down over his hips and with them, his braies. Her mouth opened wider under his, accepting him. Underneath her fear was need. A need that matched his own.
    Roughly, he swept her up and carried her to the bed. She made no sound as, with his free hand, he threw back the covers and all but dropped her onto the mattress beneath, coming down on top of her as he ravished her with his mouth. She twisted her fingers in his hair, hair he’d just had cut that morning. She felt so small beneath him, so fragile. And yet there was a fire there, deep within.
    She was as much a stranger to him as he to her, their coupling one of expedience. He doubted that she’d look twice at him but for the fact that she was obligated to accept all comers. Might indeed cross the street to avoid him. But she was his now and under his power and the knowledge drove him wild.
    He stroked her flank, the rounded ridge of her hip bone, as he nuzzled her neck. She gasped, parting her lips slightly. He took one nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over the small nub. Feeling it grow hard, swollen from his ministrations. Moving his hand down, he discovered that she was wet. Ready for him. That, a woman could neither forge nor disguise.
    He bit down slightly and she moaned. Another little shudder ran through her, this one quite different. She was completely open to him in that moment, her eyes half closed as she absorbed her pleasure.
    Returning his lips to hers, he slid his hand under her flank and lifted her to him as he impaled her. She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. The last dregs of the drug were still in his system, giving him stamina even as they propelled him to new heights. He understood finally—to the extent that he understood anything at all—what Callas had meant, about the orgies in the grove.
    Lissa proved a more than willing partner in the game, thrusting her hips up to meet his as she bit him, hard, on the shoulder. He bit her back and she laughed. He thought he might be killing her, but he didn’t care. They finished the night in a tangle of covers, Lissa sound asleep and with a satisfied smile on her face.
    Hart remained awake for a long time, thinking.



THREE
    H e dressed in silence, before dawn.
    Lissa was still asleep, her small form snug under the covers and her face turned toward the wall. Tonight, she’d share a different room with a different man. Perhaps a fat man with warts, and a wife. This wasn’t