He laid me in the bed as if he were going to withdraw, and I caught his forearm. Muscles flexed beneath my fingers, and he looked down at me with a muscle tight in his jaw, as if it would take everything he had to pull away.
“I think you need to learn that someone can take care of you without wanting anything in return except for your comfort.” His hand brushed my hair. “I’m not doing this so the two of us can fuck?—”
“I know.” It was terrifying, but I knew. At least I did in that moment; maybe my usual jadedness would return with the morning light. “But don’t stop taking care of me now.”
I bit my lower lip, looking up at him archly as I let the remnants of the towel slip aside.
He groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
He leaned over me, his lips grazing my clavicle, then my throat. I caught his head with my fingers in his dark hair and pulled his mouth to mine. “Come here.”
He braced himself above me, carefully holding the weight of his muscled body away from me. Our breaths mingled, and our gazes met in a heated moment.
Then his lips brushed mine again, slow, light.
He pulled away first. “What do you want your wedding to be like?”
“My wedding?” I shook my head. “You don’t have to feel bad that our wedding won’t be some dream. Even as a little girl, I never really dreamt of standing in the temple wreathed in flowers.”
“What did you dream of?”
“Magic,” I whispered, feeling the word pulled out of my soul when he was so close, when the night felt like a veil outside covering us upfrom the world we spent so much time fighting. “I dreamt of having my magic.”
“You’ll have your magic again,” he promised me. He kissed the corner of my mouth, and I put my arms around his neck, wanting more of him. “I’ve always been afraid of getting married. This is probably the only way I would.”
“Is that so?” I stroked his hair back with his hand, since his tousled hair had blocked that handsome face. “Why?”
“What if I were to admit to loving someone—truly loving them, not just charming them, controlling them—and then they rejected me? It would prove my mother right after all,” he said the words breezily, as if it were not a confession pulled from his chest, full of pain.
But I knew better.
“Your mother was wrong,” I told him fiercely, my hand cupping his cheek.
He turned his face into my palm, pressing his lips against my skin in a kiss that felt like gratitude.
Maybe he needed someone to take care of him, too.
He captured my mouth, this kiss claiming, bruising. And I welcomed it. My hips swayed up to meet his, my legs wrapping around his as I searched for friction. I traced the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips, and his lips parted for me.
He pulled away abruptly, his voice rough. “I love seeing you naked in my bed. But you’re not wearing the one thing you need.”
“And what’s that?”
“My ring.”
Fear moved to a small chest in the corner of the room. He rummaged through it, finally pulling out an elaborate pendant hanging from a delicate gold chain. Without hesitation, he pulled off the pendant, leaving only the chain.
“This is worth more than some kingdoms.” He tossed the pendant carelessly aside. “But it’s not worth half as much as seeing my ring around your neck.”
He stepped behind me, his chest warm against my back as he fastened the chain. The ring settled in the hollow between my collarbone,cool against my flushed skin. His lips pressed against the nape of my neck, followed by a gentle scrape of teeth that made me gasp.
I pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him, the position placing me above him, in control. His hands settled on my hips, but he made no move to direct me, content to let me set the pace. I leaned down to kiss him, my hair falling around us like a curtain, creating a private world where only we existed.
I teased him, positioning myself so that his length pressed against my core without entering me and rubbing him through my slick folds. His grip on my hips tightened, and his face changed: tension in his jaw, a flush spreading across his cheekbones, and his pupils dilated until his eyes were nearly black except for a ring of gleaming gold. I loved seeing what I did to him.
I slid him through my folds once, twice, then abruptly slid him inside, letting my knees slide apart to either side of his lean torso to let him spear me. I sank down, letting out a gasp at his length, until I was pressed to his lean torso. The way he stretched me hurt, but it also felt good.
He slid his thumb against my clit, making sure that I had all the friction I needed there, and I began to roll my hips, watching his control fray as he rubbed my clit harder and harder. The two of us both gasped, ragged with need as I rode him wildly.
