A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XV. Instinct and Desire

Eris

Talking to Tarquin is like talking to a damn butterfly. He's always on about serving the morals that govern my land or doing good by my duty. That's never been how I see it.
When I'm deciding something for my court, there is no discussion of morals. I'm only concerned with protecting me and mine- I don't care how I have to do it. It's all about result.
I suppose it's of no consequence that Tarquin is this way. It's easier to manipulate him like this. I know what he wants and how he wants it. That's all it is. A manipulation game.
We had talked trade policy, talked diplomacy, talked war, talked peace. He had finally impressed me enough to try his hand at goading information out of me, asking me to recount exactly how my stay in spring court was. I know better than to give everything away.
"It was expected," I had shrugged dismissively. "Tamlin approached us once to make sure we meant no harm. Lucien hosted us the rest of the time."
Tarquin nods, but I get the feeling he can tell I'm not telling everything. Let him suspect. If he wants to get to know our southern neighbor, he should visit him himself.
Giggling sounds from around the corner, so we halt our conversation. And when I see her... my heart halts its beating.
I'm not sure I'm breathing.
She enters the room, arm in arm with Cressida, but I only see her. She's next to naked, moisture still clinging to her skin. And her skin was positively glowing, like the sun had given her color. She pops against the blue of her tiny swimsuit, her breasts spilling out the slightest bit at the top, those long beautiful legs making me sweat under my button up.
Tarquin chuckles in good nature. "You two look like you had fun," he muses as Cressida plops in an armchair. And of all places in the massive room she could settle, Nephele decides my lap is as good as any, sitting directly on my growing erection.
She doesn't even flinch, like she had known it'd be there. The witch.
"Oh, definitely," Cressida gives Nephele a knowing smile as Neph wraps her arm around the back of my neck. On pure instinct and desire, my arm goes around her waist, my hand brushing up her thigh. She shudders in return.
Serves her right.
She turns to me, raising a brow in response to my stare. "What?" She asks innocently.
"You're wet," I grind out dumbly, the only words I can form with her glistening body dripping saltwater all over me.
She gasps in mock mortification. "Eris, dear, what an improper thing to say in front of our hosts!" She exclaims, rubbing my blush as Tarquin and Cressida laugh.
"She's quite funny," Cressida tells her cousin. I'm not laughing. I'm just hard as a brick and embarrassed- which is weirdly arousing.
You learn something new everyday.
"I can see that," Tarquin smirks, looking at her a way that makes my grip on her thigh tighten to a bruising pressure. I notice how her breath catches wantingly, and I fight a smirk.
You learn something new everyday.
"Cress took me cliff jumping," she informs me, grinning happily, her grey eyes alight.
I huff a short laugh. "Funny."
"Actually Eris," Tarquin interjects. "I think she's being serious."
I cut a sharp glance at Cressida who shrugs. "It's a popular pastime in the Summer Court, jumping off inner coastal waterfalls," she explains, chuckling fondly. "Neph is a maniac. She kept climbing higher into the trees so she could fall for longer."
I glance at Nephele who smiles sheepishly in return. "Sounds about right," I mumble, standing her up out of my lap, putting a directing arm around her. "If you'll excuse us," I say to Tarquin and Cressida. "Someone got me wet, and we need to get dry before dinner."
I let the two of them smirk knowingly. I let them think that's I'm physically restraining myself from having her right now. Maybe it's easy because it's half true. The false part: I let them think I'm taking her back to my room to fuck her silly because any man in my position wouldn't be able to resist himself.
The act is so good I could fool myself if not for the physical pain it brings me as my balls rub against the seam of my pants.
"You did good," I whisper to her when we're clear of the High Lord and Princess. "Cressida loves you, and Tarquin is on his way."
"Thanks, I was talking you up to her too," she smirks, leaning closer, smelling like seawater and her underlying perfume of lavender. "If anyone asks, our first kiss was in the pouring rain."
I furrow my brow. "Why?"
She shrugs. "Cressida was asking questions about us, and it sounded romantic."
"It sounds messy," I reply, glancing at the dreamy expression on her face. She rolls her eyes.
"Romance is messy, Hot Stuff. Love is clean. That's why people like us have to get comfortable with the mess," she replies casually.
I frown. "You act as though there's a difference between romance and love."
"There is," she replies. "I know there is because when I think about romance, I get butterflies in my stomach like a little girl who dreams of being a princess. When I think about being in love, I get moths instead." I'm glad we're at least in agreement about that. I'm glad she won't go falling in love with me- not that I thought she really would.
At least I think I'm glad, though I do feel a twist in my gut that feels oddly like disappointment. I decide to ignore it.
"Good," I reply shortly, stopping at her door. "Now go put some damn clothes on."
"Why?" She smirks tauntingly. It's not for show. No one is around. "I thought you liked me like this."
Her eyes flicker to the bulge in my pants which is reawakened when she lays her pretty fingers on my chest. Damn her flirtation. "I do," I reply, swallowing, looking up and down the length of her body. I reach a hand out, raking my fingers through her locks. If she wants to taunt me for my arousal, fine. I can smell that this is a two-way path. I give her hair a sharp yank, making her look up at me, delighting in the throated gasp that leaves her mouth. The desire in her breath. "But my erection doesn't do well for diplomatic manners, now does it sweetheart?" She liked it rough, and I could tell, her pupils dilated entirely.
She recovers, smirking as her fingers stroke my chest. "I'm here to help," she shrugs playfully.
"Haven't you heard that nice guys finish last?" I ask, tracing the point of her ear.
She chuckles, tussling my hair. "Who ever said you were a nice guy?" She taunts, disappearing into her chambers.