A Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses #4) by Sarah J. Maas

She took him deep, and moaned so loudly it reverberated along his cock and straight into his balls. They tightened further, and release gathered in his spine, a scorching knot that had him arcing into her mouth again. He was utterly at her mercy.

Nesta moaned once more, a soft encouragement, and Cassian needed nothing else. Gripping her hair, her scalp, holding her in place, he thrust his hips. She met him with each stroke, mouth and hand working in unison, until the slick heat of her, the teeth that sometimes grazed him, teased him, the tightness of her fist—they were unbearable, were all he cared about.

Cassian fucked her mouth, and her moaning had him deciding he’d fuck the rest of her, too. Strip those pants off her and drive into her so hard she’d be screaming his name to the ceiling.

He made to pull out, but Nesta refused to move. He growled, his fingers clamping on her head to still her. “I want to be inside you,” he managed to say, his voice like gravel.

But Nesta looked up at him again from under her lashes, and he watched his length disappear into her mouth. His tip bumped against the back of her throat.

Oh, gods. He clenched his teeth. “I want to finish inside you.”

Nesta only huffed a laugh, and sucked him down so deep that he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the release as she slid her other hand into his pants and cupped his balls, squeezing softly.

Cassian came with a roar that shook the glasses on the table, arcing up into her as he spilled himself down her throat.

She weathered it, weathered him, and when he’d stopped shuddering, she smoothly, gracefully, slid her mouth off him.

Nesta held his stare while she swallowed. Swallowed down every ounce of what he’d spilled into her mouth. And then her lips curved upward, a queen triumphant.

Cassian panted, not caring that his cock was still out, slick and leaking, only that she was mere inches away and he was going to return this particular favor she’d given him.

Nesta rose to her feet, eyes flicking to his cock. The heat in her gaze threatened to burn him, and the scent of her arousal wrapped itself around him and dug its claws in deep.

“Take off your pants,” he growled.

Nesta’s smile only grew, pure feline amusement.

He’d fuck her on this table. Right now. He didn’t care about anything else, about the common space they were in or Eris or Briallyn or Koschei or the Dread Trove. He needed to be inside her, to feel that hot tightness around him and claim her as she had claimed him.

Nesta’s fingers slid to the buttons and laces of her pants, and he shook as he watched them free the top button—

Steps scuffed down the hall. A warning. From someone who knew how to remain silent.

Cassian stiffened, then shoved his aching cock into his pants. Nesta heard the sound and moved a few feet away, refastening that top button. Cassian had just finished setting himself to rights when Azriel strode in.

“Good evening,” his brother said with a grating level of calm, striding toward the table.

“Az.” Cassian wasn’t able to keep the bite out of his tone. He met his brother’s too-aware stare and silently conveyed every bit of annoyance he felt at his timing. Azriel only shrugged, surveying the food the House had brought him. As if he knew exactly what he’d interrupted and took his chaperone duties very seriously.

Nesta was watching them, but as soon as Cassian turned to her, she launched into movement, pushing off the table and aiming for the door. “Good night.” She didn’t wait for him to respond before she was gone.

Cassian leveled a glare at Az. “Thanks for that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Az said, even as he smiled down at his food.

“Asshole.”

Az chuckled. “Don’t show your hand all at once, Cass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Az nodded toward the doorway. “Save something for later.”

“Busybody.”

Az took a bite. “You let her suck your cock in the middle of the dining room. At a table I’m currently using to eat my dinner. I’d say that entitles me to an opinion.”

Cassian laughed, his earlier gloom chased away. By her. All by her. “Fair enough.”





CHAPTER

27

Nesta hadn’t the faintest idea how she’d look Cassian in the face the next morning, but Gwyn provided a buffer she was all too eager to use. She met the priestess on the steps up to the training pit, and Gwyn offered her a bright smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Nesta said, falling into step with her. “Anything on the Trove?”

Gwyn shook her head. She still wore her robes, though she’d taken to tying back her hair in a tight braid. “I even asked Merrill last night. She broke through that glamour, but beyond a few mentions in old texts, she couldn’t find anything more than what you already know. Not a hint about when or where they were lost, or who lost them. We can’t even uncover who last possessed them, since it’s information that goes back at least ten thousand years.”

It was always a shock to remember just how old the Fae were. How old Amren must be, to have remembered the Dread Trove objects when they were still free in the world. But apparently even Amren had no memory of who’d last used them.

Nesta shoved away the thought of the female, and the accompanying cold slice of pain.