HEIR OF THE DRAGON

CHAPTER 8

Lalisa bit down on her lip, hoping the little prick of pain would provide a distraction from her larger discomfort. She'd made it through the first couple of courses but by the time the servers were bringing out the roast pig, her self-control was starting to crack. Neither food nor conversation were capable of holding her interest, both drowned out by the throbbing ache between her legs. The common belief was that ruts weren't as crippling as heats but if that was true, she pitied Roseanne.

Desire was taking over not just Lalisa's body but her mind. She couldn't stop picturing what lay beneath every serving girl's dress or wondering what it would be like to steal a kiss or more from the pretty noble omegas dancing beneath the high table. But most of her fantasies were centered around her wife. Every time Roseanne smiled or laughed, Lalisa yearned to throw her mate down on the table and claim her, never mind who might be watching. She'd tried everything to fight the urges but not even her uncle's advice about picturing Ser James could keep her lust under control.

"What do you think of the soup?" Prince Qoren asked, seemingly oblivious to her plight. "Myself, I find it a bit rich but it's a favorite of my lady."

The lady in question was indeed eating with gusto, but all Lalisa could think of was how she would look if the spoon in her mouth was replaced with something else.

Fuck, this is not good.

"It's not bad. A bit... something though," she gritted out, unable to think of the word she was looking for.

"Are you all right?" Roseanne asked and just the sound of her voice made Lalisa's cock twitch.

She held up a hand. "Fine. I just could use some air."

Qoren laughed. "No surprise there. Our food is a bit strong for those unaccustomed to it."

"That must be it," she said quickly, unable come up with a better lie.

The prince pointed her in the direction of a nearby balcony and Lalisa stumbled toward it, trying to position herself away from her hosts. Whatever advantages breaches had, they did a much worse job of concealing her erection than a good, voluminous gown.

Once outside, she gasped sharply, trying to exhale all of her desires but although her head felt clearer in the evening air, the improvement was marginal. The urge to fuck was painful in its intensity, her thoughts out of control. Roseanne remained the central figure in her fantasies, but they jumped around uncontrollably, pictures and scenarios rushing through her mind.

With a groan, she reached into her breaches, trying to adjust her cock so at least it would be at a more comfortable angle. It wasn't a good decision. Any touch, even that of her own hand, was enough to make the throbbing so bad that she had half a mind to...

Before she could finish the thought, she caught a familiar scent and turned to see Roseanne standing behind her. "Lalisa, has your rut started?"

She sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

Roseanne smiled indulgently. "Your scent is all over the place. The only reason Qoren hasn't noticed is that he's a beta."

"Fucking hells," she murmured as another wave of lust rolled over her. She couldn't seem to focus on anything else, especially not with her mate here.

The problem only grew worse when Roseanne walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "We should go back to our rooms, Lalisa. You seem absolutely miserable."

"This feast is in my honor," she protested in spite of herself. "The Dornish will be insulted if I leave so soon."

"You can't go back in there like this. You look like you're about to take me right up against the wall."