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“Because I can’t fight, eat, drink, sleep, or wank. It’s difficult to get a leg over when you don’t have legs! I want in on the intrigue! Now, demon, what did you do?”
He’d compared Bettina to a book before; now he dreamed of spreading her wide and devouring her, sampling her as he’d dreamed of all day.
But he’d governed his urges. He knew how important this interlude was. It was their beginning. An eternity of pleasure lay before them if his campaign with her proved successful.
Trehan’s plan had now transitioned and expanded. Win the tournament, find and slaughter her enemies, capitalize on her passion.
Daciano broke the spell. “Bettina, there is a limit.” Without looking at him, she asked, “What does that mean?” He took her hand, smoothly returning her panties. “One day you’ll convince me that you’ll always want him.” Just before he traced away, he murmured in her ear, “Take care, lest you lose a male who’ll desire only you—and gain a male who’ll desire only others.”
“I spent the morning as the ceiling in the warlocks’ tent. Found out that the hobbies of Those Best Forgotten include long walks on the beach and sacrificing nymphs on altars. I mean, who’d want to hurt a nymph? That’s like kicking a rainbow in the nuts. And they’re doing things to that wolf . . . well, let’s just say they’re shy of humane.”
Not exactly the behavior of a cold and rational sort. He looked like he was about to—oh, how do I put this?—go out and fuck shit up. Take me word for it, still waters run deep wiv that one. And when the cold ones go, they go big.”
Power is where you find it, where you seize it, how you wield it.
