Chapter 204. Samhain I
Maisie
I started to walk past him when without looking, he shoved something at me.
It was a white-handkerchief.
"You have snot all over your face," he sulked.
When I kept staring at the handkerchief like it was an alien, he grabbed my hand and pushed it into my grasp. His face was twisted in an annoyed expression. "Why are you always crying?"
"You’re touching me," I said, instead. "I thought you didn’t want any trouble."
He withdrew instantly and averted his gaze as he added, "Jenny wouldn’t like knowing I abandoned her best friend when she was red-faced and wailing like a new born."
I glared at him but wiped my face. "Jenny’s not going to find out because you never saw me here."
Lyon stilled and then he was grabbing my hand again and began shoving the sleeves of my sweater up my arms to reveal the skin along my arms.
"Lyon—"
"Are you hurt? Are they hurting you?" His voice was rough. "Tell me the truth. If they’re—"
"No!" I yelled at him, yanking my hand out of his grip. And tears welled in my eyes again when I realized what he was thinking.
"They’re not! They would never hurt me like that," I sobbed. "They would never hurt me."
He stepped away immediately, but his jaw remained locked tightly as he looked at me, like he was trying to see past the tears.
"Then why the fuck do you look like someone broke your fucking heart?"
The question landed somewhere deep in my chest.
The urge to tell someone, anyone, was so strong it made my throat ache.
But I couldn’t get Lyon involved in my life.
Every time I had, he got hurt because of me. I had a feeling this time wouldn’t be any different.
"I’m fine," I said.
"You clearly aren’t—"
"It’s nothing," I cut in harshly. "Just... leave it alone, Lyon."
His expression shifted, something like hurt flickering across his face before he locked it down. He studied me for a long moment, like he was debating whether to push harder.
Then he nodded once, slowly, and left.
And perhaps if I had known then that it was the last time I’d ever talk to him again, I might have thanked him. For everything.
Or maybe I would’ve told him to stay the hell away from me.
***
I sat at the vanity in front of the full-length mirror on the evening of Halloween, carefully adjusting the midnight-black dress that clung to my curves before flowing into a daring slit up one thigh. It was bolder than anything I’d ever worn in years.
It was the color of what I felt tonight.
There was something in the air that made me restless and snappy. Maybe it was because I knew I was cutting it too close, choosing to leave on the very eve of our foretold doom.
But it had to be tonight.
The wedding was the only window I would get to both speak to the Queen and slip away from the guards at the event.
In the last couple of days, my mates had been more protective and I noticed more guards around the mansion. Soren and Mercer were away more than usual at court, leaving Jericho and Quinlan clinging to me like second skin.
Whatever it was that had them in a tizzy made it impossible to leave.
But I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
I was fixing my hair when the bedroom door opened gently behind me.
I didn’t need to look to know it was Jericho. His scent filled the room, making butterflies erupt in my stomach.
I caught his reflection in the mirror and for a long time, he stood, watching me with that intense, possessive look in his eyes.
His gaze burned me in the most delicious way.
He crossed the room slowly, stopping behind me. I shivered as his warm finger tips brushed my hair off the side of my neck and he leaned down to press a kiss to my pulse. "Beautiful," he said. "You’re so fucking beautiful it hurts."
I forced a smile, fighting the sting in my eyes. "You don’t look bad yourself."
"Your flattery wounds me deeply," he said dramatically, and my laughter wasn’t entirely forced.
When he leaned forward, I saw a sleek black box in his hand. He opened it and my breath caught at the sight of a stunning, delicate chain of white gold with an onyx pendant that matched my dress perfectly.
Jericho reached for my neck to fasten the neck piece, and that was when he noticed.
I didn’t have the necklace around my neck. His eyes lowered to my left hand where Soren’s ring rested on my ring finger.
Jericho stilled. "Malyshka?"
I met his gaze through the mirror and I hated myself when understanding lit up his face. The realization of what wearing Soren’s ring meant. The joy. The love in those eyes as he kissed the top of my head.
And I despised myself even more because I knew that smile would be gone by the end of tonight.
I felt like absolute shit.
Jericho fastened the neckpiece, and the stone settled cool and heavy between my breasts. "It’s perfect," I whispered, touching the pendant.
"Nowhere near as perfect as you are," he said, walking around my chair.
Then he dropped to one knee with that effortless, predatory grace, not minding that he was ruining his tux. He lifted my foot gently, sliding the dark heels onto it and buckling the strap with care.
"Thank you," I said, but clearly, he had better, toe-curling ideas. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my ankle, trailing higher, following the slit of my dress.
My breath caught. "Jericho..."
He pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee, then another higher up, lips warm against my thigh. The higher he went, the slower and sensual his kisses became.
"What are you doing?" I asked, voice breathy. "We’re going to be late."
He looked up at me through dark lashes, eyes glowing faintly. "We still have a few minutes before we leave." His hands were hot as sin as they slid under the silk, bunching it up to my hip. "Let me taste you. Just for a little while."
I should’ve said no, but he pulled me closer, hooking one of my legs over his broad shoulder, baring me to him and I lost sense of why this was a bad idea.
His breath was hot against my center and I caught my lip between my teeth, gripping either edges of the chair hard enough to hurt.
My body tightened as he sent a trail of hot kisses up my thigh, and I gasped when his canines sank into my flesh.
My fingers found his hair, bringing him to where I needed him the most, and white-hot pleasure shot behind my eyes as he tugged my panties to the side and dragged his tongue against my core.
It dragged a moan from my throat. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating through me as he licked deeper, savoring every inch of me.
"I will never get enough of you, will I?" he rasped against me. "Fuck, Maisie."
My head fell back as he ate me out in slow, deep strokes of his tongue followed by teasing sucks on my clit. Two thick fingers pushed inside me, curling just right while his mouth worked me relentlessly.
Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, my thighs trembling around his shoulders.
I was right on the edge, gasping his name, when the orgasm crashed over me. I came hard against his mouth, crying out as waves of pleasure tore through me. He licked me through every shudder greedily until I was shaking and oversensitive.
The moment the last spasm faded, I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up.
Our mouths crashed together in a hard kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue and it only made me kiss him harder, like I was trying to pour every unsaid word into him.
And I suddenly didn’t care about the wedding, or the fact that a goodbye fuck was a terrible idea.
I wanted him. Now.
"No... ripping," I said against his mouth. "I really, really like this dress."
"I’ll buy you an entire truck of dresses," Jericho grunted between kisses, hands gripping my ass as he hoisted me onto the vanity.