“But—”
He grasped my hips and pulled me forward hard, pinning my hand on him between us, and staring into my eyes. “I said,no.”
I shivered with delight, then pulled my hands up to his hair and twined my fingers in his warrior’s length. “Don’t you remember? The day you were crowned?” I whispered, leaning down to kiss along his jaw, then down his neck. “I had you right here that night.”
“Ihadyou,”he muttered, tipping my chin back up, and forcing me to meet his eyes again. “Yes, I remember. I also remember there was somethingIwanted that night which I’ve never taken.”
That stopped me. I tipped my head, frowning thoughtfully, mentally scrambling to see if I could remember. But I was stumped.
Then he pulled my head down, cupped his hand at the back of my neck, and rasped in my ear, “You, bent over this chair, and losing your mind.”
A thrill of heat and need sparkled through me. “I’m pretty sure that’s going to make you roar, Melek.”
“So be it. A king’s duty to his queen, outweighs even his son’s disapproval.”
“The servants—”
“Apparently the servants have been listening for years without a word, so that’s on them.”
Then he pulled my chin down and kissed me hard. And when he had me breathless, and my hips starting to roll, he gripped me at the waist and lifted me, turning me around in his lap. Then, as I straddled him again, he planted a hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward.
I almost fell to the floor, and gave a little yelp, grasping for the edge of the seat between his knees to brace myself, but Melek chuckled.
“Relax, I’ve got you.” He circled my waist with one arm, a steel bar to keep me from falling, then lifted me slightly and positioned himself. “I’ve got you,” he repeated in a ragged breath. “I’ve gotallof you.”
Then he pulled me down onto him, and we both groaned as he took me in one, long slide.
His free hand came forward to cup under my chin and pull me back up, so I sat back against his chest and took him deeper, groaning again.
Then he began to move.
Hips rolling, chest rumbling with his growls of approval, calloused hands finding every curve and swell of my body and raking it with clawed fingers. We moved together, and after a frustrating day of parenting and ruling, something inside me broke open, andfree.
There was little room for me to move, my legs pinned between his thighs and the thick arms of the chair. But as Melek’s rolling turned to sharp thrusts and my body responded, I let myself go into his arms, let my weight rest in his strength, and let my pleasure be his to decide.
My mate did not disappoint.
Hooking that arm in front of me again, he pressed me forward over it, then his hot breath teased while he kissed down my spine, and the skin of my back prickled and pebbled in response.
When I tried to sit up, he growled and buried the fingers of his free hand in my hair, sliding them up the back of my neck to my scalp and pressing my head down. I was craned forward, held in place by him, and gasped with the lack of control. Bent over his arm, he took me harder and harder as he tugged at my hair, and the sensation of his grip adding resistance sparked further, tingling pleasure on my skin.
Then he pulled me back up by that grip on my hair, back against his chest, opened his mouth on my neck and sucked, as his hands clamped on my hips and he held me down while he thrust.
“Oh God…Melek—”
“Arm, or back?” he muttered, then nipped my neck. I sucked in. “Wh-what?”
“Arm or back? The chair? Which part am I bending you over?”
I blinked and tried to think, but then one of his hands slipped from my hip, down between my legs, dipped to where we joined, then slowly pressed, sliding back up, until pleasure jangled through my body, radiating from between my legs, out to every limb.
Then he did it again. And again. Taking me harder each time, pressing slightly faster, until I was a quivering mess, hovering on the verge of orgasm. Mindless. Every hair on my body standing to attention.
“Arm… or back…?”he panted, breaking through my reverie.
“I… I don’t…”
“Back, it is.”
