Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“You will drink, my sweet,” he says in a measured tone. “We will make this toast even if I have to drink on your behalf and feed you from my mouth.”
My pulse jumps at the threat. The idea of drinking from his mouth has me simultaneously fuming and excited. The excitement is unwanted but nevertheless undeniably present.
I definitely don’t want that.
I don’t want him to kiss me.
Especially not in front of a hall full of people.
Especially not when my hormones are going haywire at the thought of his lips on mine.
What I need to do is work on an escape plan—say, that bathroom break—and not submit to the crazy impulse to climb onto his lap and lick the juice from his lips.
“It’s going to happen,” he says, reminding me of his earlier promise. “It’ll be easier if you don’t fight it.”
Holding me firmly in place, he lifts the goblet to my lips.
Crap.
If I’m this horny now, how am I going to behave after downing an alien aphrodisiac?
“Wait.” I strain in his hold. “What’s going to happen, you know…” I clear my throat. “If I drink this?”
Heat dances in his silver eyes. “Nothing that won’t happen anyway. The drink will just help to relax you.”
“I don’t want to relax,” I say, but my words fall on deaf ears.
Balancing the goblet in his hand, he pulls my bottom lip down with his thumb while watching the action with a ravenous, calculated expression. “Are you going to open for me, my sweet, or do you prefer that I open your lips for you? Rest assured, it’s a task I’ll enjoy very much.” He lowers his voice, making sure no one else hears what he says. “Just know this, once I have my tongue in your mouth, you’ll beg me to bring the consummation to completion.”
Shit.
My heartbeat is all over the place now. I’m furious, frustrated, and turned on. It looks as if I don’t have a choice. I’d rather swallow those green balls—which is what I imagine Phaelix testicles look like—than kiss Aruan. Because kissing him is going to fuck with my hormones. I know it.
“Aruan,” I start with a plea in my voice, hoping to tap into his compassion.
He presses the goblet against my lips. “Drink, Laliss, so that we can get this over and done with.”
“How many times must I tell you I’m not Laliss?” I whisper-exclaim in unsuppressed anger.
“Fine. Drink, Elsie. The sooner you drink, the sooner we can move on to the more pleasurable part of the evening.”
I look around the room in search of an ally, but everyone is staring at us with fascinated expectation. From the way Gaia’s chest isn’t moving, I can tell she’s holding her breath. The queen clasps her goblet in a bloodless grip. The king is watching me with morbid interest.
“Drink, little one,” Tarix urges in a low voice. “It won’t be so bad.”
I don’t know if by “it,” he means sex with Aruan or being mated for life to a man from a different world whom I only met a few hours ago. I don’t even have answers about this place or these people yet.
Aruan’s command holds a challenge. “Do not defy me in front of my people. I’m warning you, mate. I will have my way. The only difference is that you still have a chance to accept my offering with grace. Do you really want all the royals and our most esteemed citizens to watch me force-feed you?”
Resentment beats with a wild rhythm in my chest. Underneath the table, I clench my hands into fists.
Okay. Aruan wins this round. Not the sex part. Just the drinking bit. But the fight is far from over.
Ever so slowly, I part my lips. Apprehension is a stone in my stomach. Approval washes over Aruan’s stunning features. His smile is encouraging but also a little victorious as he tilts the goblet to feed me the first sip.
Just as the liquid is about to touch my lips, Pip the anurognathus plunges through the air and knocks the goblet from Aruan’s hand.
Tepid, fizzling liquid spills down the front of my dress. The goblet falls to the floor with the unmistakable sound of glass breaking.
I look down in shocked surprise as a bright purple stain blooms over the fabric that covers my breasts.
Aruan is on his feet in a second, his furious gaze trained on Pip, who escapes through an open archway that acts as a window.
“Oh, dear,” the queen says, jumping up.
Aruan grabs a napkin from the table. “Here.”
Taking my hand, he helps me to stand before dabbing at the spillage on my dress.
“It’s nothing,” I say, both elated and scared.
As relieved as I am not to have to drink this, I don’t want Pip to be in trouble.
“I’ll kill that pixie,” Aruan says through clenched teeth.