Garden Of Poison

Before Emily could respond or say something, blood rushed up her neck and settled in her cheeks. Surely, he wasn’t expecting her to lick the cream off his finger. She quietly stared back at the blue eyes that patiently waited for her.

The water she had earlier gulped down had provided no relief, as her tongue still felt as though someone had set it aflame, and she took a deep breath through her lips in an attempt to alleviate the sensation.

Until now, Emily had only been subjected to Raylen’s sarcastically kind taunts and teasing, but his current actions had left her speechless. Desperate to extinguish the fire in her mouth, she leaned forward, much to Raylen’s pleasure.

There was a glint of wickedness in Raylen’s eyes, mixed with excitement. He made no effort to move from his seat, only observing the lovely princess glaring at him as she leaned forward to his waiting finger covered with the buttercream to soothe her. He noticed her delicate lips parting open like a flower blooming in spring, and he couldn’t help but part his own lips as he watched her like a hunter tracking his prey.

But before Raylen could see Emily’s mouth wrap around his finger or lick it, the princess’s hand reached for his plate, which held the slice of cake, and a triumphant smile appeared on her lips. She said,

"You shouldn’t be so smug, King Raylen. You can enjoy the cream yourself."

But as Emily pulled the plate towards her, Raylen caught her wrist. His grip was firm, but not harsh enough to leave an imprint of his fingers on her skin. The sudden movement caused her to inhale a sharp breath.

"Stealing my cake isn’t very nice, Princess." Raylen’s words fell like a whisper, their faces close to each other. "Should I remind you that I don’t share? What is mine is mine alone and no one else’s. But I would like to be benevolent in your case and offer you the cream."

"And should I remind you that I am perfectly capable of eating it with my own two hands?" Emily retorted, even as she felt her heartbeat quicken.

"Such a difficult princess to please," Raylen murmured, and as a faint smile appeared on his lips once more, Emily’s eyes caught sight of his sharp canines. He questioned her, "Why trouble yourself when there’s help readily available at your service?"

Emily was well aware that Raylen was a conniving demon of the highest level, but she hadn’t realised just how shameless he could be until now. She said, "The service I require from you is to let go of my hand. Now."