the laughter in his eyes. He was teasing her again. That knowledge turned her a little mad, mad enough to lift the whisk and touch it to the tip of his nose. "There."
He blinked, raised his finger to his nose and wiped off the cream. No jagged black tips, she thought in shock - his hands were bare of any trace of armor below the wrists. Then he licked the cream off his finger, and suddenly, the game wasn't a game anymore, her thoughts scattering like so many marbles across a floor.
Forcing her head back to the bowl, she began to whisk with all her strength. Maybe that was why she didn't notice him move, why she didn't realize he'd trapped her with his gauntleted arms on either side of hers until his hands came over hers, one on the edge of the bowl to hold it in place, the other closing around the hand that held the whisk.
She should've protested, should've pushed back, but she continued to whisk even as his body imprinted itself on her own. The sensation was indescribable. No man had ever touched her thus, had ever wanted to touch her thus.
Her heart grew heavy at the reminder that the Lord of the Black Castle had been trapped here his entire life. He didn't understand that there were women of stunning elegance and grace who would beg to come to his bed once he reclaimed his place as a prince of Elden. Beside them, she'd look the mountain troll her father had called her. Her pride shook under the blow, but she didn't pull away.
Because this man, with his way of looking at her as if she mattered, his way of touching her as if he'd like to do a whole lot more, captivated her. And she wasn't too proud to take the crumbs of his affection. Shame would strike later, she knew. But this moment when he was so hot and hard and strong around her, this moment was hers. To be kept like a jewel inside her heart, a treasure no one could steal from the ugly girl with the face of a wicked witch.
"You're very soft down here."
Jumping at the deep voice so close to her ear, it took her a second to process the meaning of his words. Her hand squeezed the metal of the whisk. "You think me fat?"
"I didn't say that." He pressed a little deeper into her, his own body created of harsh edges and taut muscle. "You're all bony angles - except here."
Her skin blazed. No matter how much flesh other parts of her body might need, one part was quite happy to remain round and plump. "That's not something it's polite to mention."
"Isn't it?" Tantalizingly close to her ear again, his breath hot and wicked. "I order you to eat more. I like the softness." Lips brushing her earlobe.
She might just end up naked on the bench if he continued on in this fashion. "The pie!" she said, grabbing for the lifeline. "I must take it out of the oven or it'll burn."
He pulled back at once - but she was almost certain she felt the brush of his mouth against her neck before he released her. Already regretting the loss of his touch, she picked up a thick cloth, opened the oven and removed the pie. Taking it to the counter, she put it carefully on top of a flat stone she'd placed there for that purpose.
The Lord of the Black Castle was beside her an instant later. "Give it to me."
She wanted to turn, breathe in the scent at the curve of his neck. "It'll taste much better after it has cooled a fraction," she managed to say.
"You are not lying to me, Liliana?" That gentle, dangerous tone he used very much on purpose to get what he wanted; his hand - hot, rough - coming to curve around her nape.
Before she could respond, his head jerked up. "I must go. The residents of the Abyss need a reminder of who rules them."
Liliana all but collapsed into a quivering puddle after he left. The man was potent. And she was playing a very dangerous game in allowing him to go as far as he'd done. If they went further, and then he discovered her identity...
"He won't hate me any less." It was a painful realization, but it freed her. "There is no happy outcome here for you, Liliana." So what did it matter if she