House of Pounding Hearts (The Kingdom of Crows Book 2) by Olivia Wildenstein

Author:Olivia Wildenstein [Wildenstein, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-28T13:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Six

As I lower my hand down my body, I glower at Lore, willing him to explode into his five crows and flap out of my bedroom.

He doesn’t.

Damn him.

I close my eyes and conjure the sailor’s face, then slip my index and middle fingers beneath the silken lace and swipe at my sex. I haven’t pleasured myself in what feels like months. It probably has been months.

After all, I was sort of busy these past few weeks.

Also, I’m not very good at it.

Concentrate, Fallon, I chide myself.

I hook Antoni’s face and drag him back to the forefront of my mind. “Don’t hesitate to peer inside my head, Mórrgaht.”

Something creaks. Perhaps the arms of the chair Lorcan sits in. Perhaps his neck.

Wood splinters. The chair it is then.

I picture Antoni sitting on the pier in front of Bottom of the Jug the night he suggested I follow him into his boat’s cabin. In hindsight, I should’ve taken him up on his offer. It may have changed things, but I can only imagine for the better. It would’ve spared me from sleeping with a selfish and disingenuous Faerie.

Dante’s face ruins what little heat I’ve stoked between my thighs.

I think about Antoni again, about his blue eyes and brown hair and tanned skin. I think of how hard he pursued me and how hard I resisted him because I was so blinded with love for a princely prick.

Another piece of wood splinters. I can only imagine that Lorcan has penetrated my mind and is displeased with the reel of images I’m showing him.

“Don’t you wish you’d flitted away when you still had the chance?” I keep working my fingers but no heat builds. I could be wiping down dirty tables at Bottom of the Jug for all the pleasure this is bringing me.

My jaw squeezes as tight as my heart. I try one last time, but the backs of my lids fill with another face—one adorned with a small feather tattoo and too-bright eyes. A sharp tingle shoots up my core and warms every corner of my body.

Before Lore can catch me thinking of him, I jerk my hand from my undergarment and turn onto my side—the side Lorcan is not on—and bury my burning cheeks into my pillow.

My attempt at making the Crow King squirm has epically backfired. The only one squirming is me. Why in the three kingdoms and one queendom did this feel like a sensible idea?

The armchair creaks again, but not like someone is destroying it . . . like someone is getting up. The carpet swallows the footfalls of the Crow King, but I, nonetheless, hear him pad closer in the silence of my bedroom. And then I feel him even though he doesn’t touch me—neither with his shadows, nor with his flesh.

“Go away, Lore. I’m not in the mood to fight.”

The air churns, and I think he’s finally listened to me, but when I crack my lids open, I find him crouched beside me, his golden eyes fastened to mine.

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