Chapter 67 The Midnight Delay

Chapter 67 The Midnight Delay

Chapter 67: The Midnight Delay

There was the only thing that Neria wanted this time-to survive.

So, the evil crown prince being as evil as he was, there was an only option left for her-to let him in…

The palace bells continued to ring outside the high glass windows, but inside the dressing room, the passage of time had completely lost its meaning.

Yes…

There was this sound of the clappers that was entirely drowned out by the rustle of dark velvet and the hurried, shallow breathing of two people who had completely abandoned the royal schedule.

Sebastian didn’t break the kiss. Instead, he deepened it, his tongue slid past her lips to claim her mouth with a fierce, intoxicating dominance.

Neria let out a low, ragged moan against his lips, her hands tightened in his silver hair, pulling him down even closer until there was absolutely no space left between them.

"You are going to ruin my hair, Neria," Sebastian murmured in a rough, breathless growl as he dragged his lips an inch away to breathe against her mouth.

"You started this, Your Highness," Neria muttered back. "If my maids cry when they see my makeup, I am telling them it was a royal decree."

Sebastian let out a breathless laugh that was quickly swallowed as he leaned down and bit her lower lip, pulling it gently until she gasped.

The moment her mouth parted, he took advantage of it, kissing her with a desperate, wild hunger that made her head spin.

His hands moved from her cheeks down to her bare shoulders, even his palms felt warm and slightly rough against her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Neria yielded to the weight of his body, her back pressed against the edge of the large marble dressing table behind her.

Several silver perfume bottles shifted and clinked together, but she didn't care about the mess.

She wrapped one leg slightly around his thigh, pulling his hips firmly against hers, enjoying the sudden intake of breath that pulled from his chest at the movement.

"You are entirely too bold for a woman under my condition," Sebastian's lips slid down to the curve of her jaw, his breath hot and uneven against her skin.

"Your condition said I couldn't lie to you, Sebastian," Neria panted, arching her neck as his mouth traveled lower, pressing deep, bruising kisses along her throat. "It didn't say I couldn't touch you. Besides, you are the one holding me like I am about to escape."

"Because you are a viper," Sebastian mapped the tight curve of her velvet-clad waist before his fingers found the edge of her skirt, bunching the fabric up. "Every time I look away, you change the rules of the game. I have half a mind to lock you in this room and skip the banquet entirely."

"And leave the King waiting?" Neria let out a soft, trembling sigh as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her thigh just above her stocking line. "Think of your royal reputation, darling. What will the court say if the Crown Prince is late because he was tangled in a dress?"

"Let them say whatever they please," Sebastian hissed.

He lifted her slightly, setting her down on the edge of the marble table so they were at eye level. The sudden shift made her velvet skirts cascade around them like a dark cloud.

Sebastian stepped between her knees, his hands gripped the wood on either side of her thighs, pinning her down as his blue eyes burned into hers with an intense, possessive focus.

"Look at me," Sebastian commanded softly.

Neria reached out, her fingers followed the line of his collarbone before moving up to cup his face. "I am looking, Sebastian. I see a prince who is utterly helpless against a wicked woman."

"I am not helpless," Sebastian went in until his lips brushed against hers with agonizing slowness, teasing her. "I am merely enjoying the terms of our agreement."

"Then stop talking and kiss me properly," Neria countered, pulling his face down to hers.

The kiss that followed was chaotic, hot, and completely unbrained.

Sebastian’s hands left the table to wrap around her waist, lifting her closer to his chest as if he wanted to pull her straight through his leather armor.

Neria’s hands travelled under his doublet, her palms felt the hard, tense muscles of his back, her nails dug into his skin through his linen shirt.

Every touch felt like a victory over the previous timelines.

Here, in the dark, she wasn't running, she wasn't drowning, and she wasn't dying.

Neria was taking exactly what she wanted from the most dangerous man in the room, and he was giving it to her willingly, his dignity was slowly melting away under the force of her mouth.

Sebastian groaned, his kisses became more aggressive, shifting from her lips to the sensitive skin beneath her chin, his teeth grazer her pulse point until she shivered and cried out into the empty room.

His hands moved beneath her velvet bodice, his fingers touched the edge of the corset, possessive and entirely lacking his usual royal restraint.

"Neria," he breathed and rested his forehead against hers as he finally pulled back. "You are going to be the death of me."

"That is the plan, Your Highness," Neria teased, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed as she offered him a slow, wicked smile.

"But for now, I think we have kept the universe waiting long enough."

Sebastian stared at her for a long moment, gradually making his eyes to regain their cold, calculated focus, though his lips stayed curved in a dark, satisfied line.

He reached out, gently smoothing down her messy hair and pulling the midnight velvet skirt back over her knees with a strange, lingering slowness.

"The banquet has officially started," Sebastian stated, stepping back and adjusting his doublet, though his breathing was still noticeably heavy.

"Fix your dress, Lady Neria. The court is waiting for the viper, and I want them to see exactly who she belongs to."

Neria slid off the marble table, her legs seemed a bit shaky but her stride was completely confident as she walked back to the mirror.

"They will see a partnership, Sebastian. Just remember to keep your hands to yourself during the main course."

"I make no promises," the prince murmured, opening the heavy oak doors to call the panicked maids back inside.