Page 43 of When the Universe Sings

My throat clicked with a swallow and I nodded. “Yes, mostly.”

Around us guests wandered, their appreciative gazes settling on the male before flicking to me with interest. There was hunger in those looks and I was surprised no one approached him, even if some got close enough I could feel their breath on my shoulders as they passed.

“What does it feel like then?” he purred.

I raised the chalice as if it might be some sort of shield between us, knowing I’d walked right into that trap. So I let my gaze wander behind him while I thought, trying to see where Asher had wandered to. He stood close by and, though I expected him to be deep in conversation with Lesephous, he instead stood beside a tall male with streaks of silvery-gray hair, his attention fixed on me.

“Like lying in the sun at midday or a light hand on my throat or be…” I trailed off, cheeks heating.

“Between your thighs?” the male suggested softly.

“Something like that. It’s there but it’s not an undeniable hunger, not like I’ve seen in others with my mistress.”

A hand ghosted over my elbow, fingertips trailing across my brand. “I would love to meet her, if she’s here.”

Maker.

“She is not, but my master is. Perhaps he knows yours?”

The male chuckled as if what I’d said was highly amusing. “I have no master, little one, not anymore.” I blinked, shocked enough I missed when his fingertips dropped to the skin of my upper thigh.

This male had bought himself out of his contract, or else a patron had. Though it was more likely he had if his claim of having no master was true. Jealousy rippled through my skinbut I fought it back with a small grin, allowing his hand to travel higher to the crease of my hip. His attention dropped there too and we both watched its path as it slid closer to the apex of my thighs.

My lips twitched in a would-be smile. “I should warn you: my master does not share.”

“Hmm,” the male murmured. “Perhaps he should.”

Maybe he was right. This male might have known things we could use. But no, of course not. I shook my head, pushing back the wave of heat as this male’s scent crashed over me. His chuckle this time was deeper and, though his fingers moved back to safer territory, those bright eyes glinted with mischief. “I find most masters are easily swayed and most think more with their cockheads—however tiny they might be—than with their brains.”

“Then it’s a good thing mine is so large,” Asher rumbled, hand suddenly wrapped around the male’s wrist. The grip didn’t look punishing, just tight enough the male’s mouth popped open in surprise as Asher lifted his hand between them. “You know better than to touch without asking, Lucien.”

That same mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Lucien dipped his head, pressing his lips to Asher’s knuckles. “But I do so love being punished,” he murmured, punctuating the remark with a slow, suggestive lick.

Asher shook his head before he dropped his grip, holding out his other hand to me. I took it, stepping into his side while he gripped the nape of my neck over the fabric obscuring my brand. “Then I suggest you find Taariq and see if he can pay you back for the pounding you gave him.”

The playful expression on Lucien’s face only brightened while he looked between us with interest…an interest that visibly built beneath the wrap around his hips. His scent grew heady, almost oppressively so, until even with the immunity Lunastrahad gifted me, my core ached like hunger. When I chanced a glance at Asher, his face still wore that same impassive mask, not a hint of color on his cheeks. His respirator more than likely filtered out whatever pheromones Lucien was exuding.

“Let your pet play with us.” Lucien reached a hand out to grab mine, but Asher’s growl came out low and ominous.

“What did I say?”

The male pursed his lips into a pout, but the length of him now threatened the structural integrity of his wrap. After another moment he gave Asher a small bow and strode back down the couches and toward the dais where the other male—Taariq, I assumed—pinned the female from before to the ground, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. When Lucien settled behind the male, entering him with a single thrust, his gaze caught mine in the crowd once more and he threw me a wink.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Asher muttered.

CHAPTER

THIRTY

The night had descendedinto debauchery and chaos.

I’d anticipated the first from parties on theDaskquah, but the second had surprised me. At some point the line between guest and pleasure yeska blurred until everywhere I looked was a tangled mess of bodies. A female guest had climbed onto one of the many food tables and others licked dollops of sauces and food from her skin. Lucien had at one point decided to spit mouthfuls of wine and liquor onto waiting guests who knelt before him.

No master indeed.

By the time the true chaos ensued, Asher and I slipped out through a side door I’d found earlier in the night, my hand firmly in his and an urgency in his pace that had my heart racing. My feet ached and the back of my neck throbbed from the weight of my hair and the crystal pin.

“Ash—”