He cocks his head. "I meant the other one."
Rage builds in my stomach, but Tristan inserts the first joint of his finger into my pussy and I jerk up. "I don't know. Maybe back in his room."
Prince narrows his eyes at me, then shoots a glance at the yard. "Do you remember when your last period was?"
My jaw drops. I clamp my pussy around Tristan's finger, and this time I teeter so close to an orgasm I almost give myself a heart attack. "Excuse me?"
Prince changes his weight between his feet, impatience at my lack of response. "Do you remember when your last period was?"
"I heard you the first time, but this is none of your business."
He rolls his eyes. "It is a simple, health-related question."
"I don't know, and I wouldn't tell you if I did." Rebellion grows inside my chest, stealing my breath away. Why doesn't he fucking leave? Let me come in peace!
Prince's lips twist downward. "Very well. We leave tomorrow." And he whirls around and slithers out of the library, his robes swishing behind him. The audacity! Asking me about my period!
Tristan parts my legs again, no matter how much strength I put on my thighs. His finger enters me completely, ravaging me, and his speed on my clit has reached such intensity there's no way I can hold it back another second.
Gripping his hair for dear life, my toes curl and I clench my jaw hard. Pleasure rockets through my body, shaking me to my core, and my orgasm explodes with the force of a hurricane. My body jerks, the chair screeches on the ground, and I choke on my moans, trying to keep them inside. Tristan doesn't pump his finger into me, instead choosing to let me do it, bucking into his hand and against his face like a madwoman until the skin of my thighs is an angry red and my juices race down to the chair.
I stay there, arched against the table, my fingers hurting with being curled for too long, my lungs fighting for air. Tristan doesn't move, tongue still lapping at my juices lazily, until I push him off as gently as I can.
"I thought I was going to die," I tell him, my voice rasping.
He chuckles as he helps me back into my pants. "No, you wouldn't." He stops, looking at me with his face too serious. "You wouldn't, right?"
And I crack up. How can we go from the intensity of public sex to cracking up like this? "No, I wouldn't. I was just amazed. That was really good."
Tristan pulls me against him, forehead pressing mine. "I love tasting you on my tongue."
I kiss him, and his beard smells like me. "We should get back to the rooms. Wash your face and everything. Have a last hurrah before tomorrow."
We stand there for another moment, both our smiles melting away. Things are getting serious now. They are very real. And either I come up with a plan tonight, or I'll be stuck in the Cursed Realm with Prince, serving his goals.
And something tells me they're much worse than I expect.
CHAPTER 14
CASSANDRA
"What the fuck is this?" My eyes go round as I watch the line of black SUVs parked in front of the house. Dozens of fae stride up and down, in and out of the house, packing boxes into the cars. Some raise their hands or touch the cars, small circles glowing on the bodywork. Wards, I bet. Against what?
Is this the right place? Are they taking a celebrity to the Oscars or something? I'm so confused. Taylor Swift doesn't walk around with these many guards.
"The fae is scared of going by himself," Tristan says, crossing his muscled arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. I shouldn't drool because I can feel him up at any time, but it doesn't change how hot I think he is. "He knows he can't handle it."
I press my lips together as I meet his eyes, keeping laughter at bay. "He was by himself at the Collector's place, wasn't he?"
Tristan shrugs. "The Little Palace is well protected and has rules against the clients attacking each other. It's a safe place if you don't rob the merchandise."
This time I laugh. "The merchandise. Is that what I am?"
He turns to me, his face growing serious. "Of course not. You're no merchandise. You're a person. The best person I've ever met."
My heart melts. I turn to throw my arms around him and climb him, but Prince appears next to me like he popped out of the ground. I jerk away, then try to pretend I'm not surprised by his sudden appearance.
"Ready to leave?" he asks, and today he's in different clothes. Still in a flowy robe the color of emeralds, but the rest of his clothes look like a jockey’s uniform, with tight pants and boots that reach his knees. His dark green hair is tied in thin braids, falling behind his shoulders, making his horns the central feature of his face.