Warrehn had never thought of it this way. He studied Samir. “Do you still feel that way? Anchorless?”
Samir smiled crookedly. “In an amusing turn of events, I feel very much anchored right now. With your cock.”
Warrehn’s lips twitched.
“The world must be ending,” Samir murmured with a smile, his thumb touching Warrehn’s mouth.
Warrehn immediately stopped smiling.
“Nope, too late—I saw that!” Samir said, waggling his eyebrows. “The smile!”
Warrehn scowled, but even he could tell how unconvincing it was. He felt relaxed, amused even. Or maybe it was the orgasm. A good orgasm tended to do that to a man. There was no other explanation for why he felt so comfortable holding Dalatteya’s son like his favorite teddy bear and talking to him without animosity.
“I smile,” Warrehn grunted.
“Not for real,” Samir said, folding a hand under his chin so he could see Warrehn better. “I’ve seen you smile condescendingly, derisively, and in contempt, but never smile genuinely—until just now!” He tapped Warrehn’s lips with his thumb, grinning. “It didn’t hurt, see?”
Warrehn stared at his grinning face, at those pretty eyes sparkling with amusement and mirth.
He caught Samir’s fingers in his hand and pushed them away from his mouth. “Stop flirting with me,” he said roughly, his voice a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand couldn’t seem to stop cradling Samir’s fingers. “Stop being so…” He trailed off, unwilling to say it aloud. Stop making me stare at you. Stop making me like you.
Samir blinked and cocked his head to the side. “Being what?” he said, still smiling that maddeningly lovely smile.
Warrehn rolled them, pushing Samir under him. Samir gasped from the sudden movement and looked up at Warrehn breathlessly. “What—”
Warrehn pressed their foreheads together, his mouth dragging across Samir’s smooth cheek. “I know you and your mother are up to something,” he said against Samir’s lips. “I know that. But…” He let out a frustrated sound and kissed him.
Samir parted his lips and kissed back, sucking on Warrehn’s tongue eagerly. His shields were completely down, so Warrehn could feel all his surface emotions. He could feel that Samir could barely breathe under Warrehn’s weight, but he loved it, loved being totally crushed under his body and surrounded by him. Samir buried his fingers in Warrehn’s hair and pulled him closer, tighter, until it felt like they were fused together. Somehow, it still wasn’t enough. For either of them.
“Want you back in me,” Samir said breathlessly.
Warrehn kissed him harder and gave him what they both wanted.
Chapter 17
Warrehn was dancing with Prince Aedan.
Samir stared at them across the ballroom, watching Prince Aedan smile up at Warrehn, his stupidly handsome face so close to Warrehn it was almost indecent. Aedan’s eyes were flickering between Warrehn’s blue eyes and his firm, stubbled jaw—or maybe he was looking at Warrehn’s lips.
“They make a beautiful couple, do they not?”
Samir froze, darting his gaze to the side. There were two ladies just to his right, and they were also watching Warrehn and Aedan. He vaguely recalled that they were part of the Sixth Grand Clan. Prince Aedan’s clan.
“Indeed they are,” the other woman answered. “Just gorgeous.”
Samir bit the inside of his cheek, returning his gaze back to the dancing couple. Gorgeous? He supposed the contrast between Warrehn’s tall, muscular frame in all black and the graceful, elegant Prince Aedan in the pale colors of his House was striking. Their golden heads looked good together, although Aedan’s hair was several shades lighter and much less splendid than Warrehn’s. It wasn’t even his natural hair color. Aedan was an empty-headed social butterfly concerned only with his looks and the latest fashion. What were they even talking about? The cut of Warrehn’s jacket?
“I wonder if they’ll get back together,” the first woman said. “They were bondmates since they were toddlers. They must miss each other.”
“Their bond was broken,” Samir said, and realized too late that not only had he barged into someone else’s conversation, but his voice had also come out too harsh.
The women were now staring at him oddly.
Forcing a smile, Samir tried to smooth over his blunder. “I don’t think His Majesty is interested in restoring his childhood bond to Prince Aedan. They’re now strangers to each other after decades apart.”
“I don’t know, Your Highness,” the first woman said, looking back at the dance floor. “They certainly look very friendly now. Look how they’re looking at each other.”
Samir felt his jaw clench and had to make a conscious effort to look less tense. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said and strode away before he could say anything he would regret.
He left the ballroom and went into the gardens, not trusting his composure. He couldn’t trust it, not when he felt like punching something, preferably Prince Aedan’s ridiculously pretty face.
Fuck.
It was clearly the drug’s side effect, but it didn’t make it any easier.