Ronan ran his hands up her back and tangled his fingers in her hair. With a firm tug, he tilted her head back. “You really want to wear my mark?”
“Yes.” The answer was a throaty whisper. “Do you want to wear mine?”
“Yes. I’ll wear more than one if you give them to me.”
Dominique swallowed hard as stared into his eyes. She wondered if he knew his shadow magic had woven through her hair, cupping her skull and supporting her head.
Ronan’s eyes stayed locked on hers as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
When he withdrew, her hands lowered to the hem of his tunic. “Off,” she said.
His burning blue gaze never left hers as he reached down and unbuckled his own sword belt. Unlike Dominique’s, his wasn’t ceremonial. It was the scarred weapon of a warrior, passed down from generation to generation in his family. It always went to the next in line to rule, which meant that he would be giving it to Aisling when she ascended to the throne.
He set the sword on the coffee table before stripping the tunic over his head. The thin muslin shirt he wore beneath followed a moment later. Ronan paused when he saw the way Dominique’s eyes moved over his bare torso, taking him in.
He stepped closer, taking her hand and lifting it to his chest. “Picking out another place to mark me?”
Her light blue-green eyes flicked up to his. “Yes and no.”
“Whyno?” he asked.
“I already know where I want to mark you, but this is the first time I feel like I can touch you how I’d like to. I’m trying to decide where to start.”
His jaw flexed as he stared down at her. Without a word, he walked over to the bed, shucking his boots and pants as he went.
Naked, he sat on the end of the bed, leaning back on his elbows. His muscles shifted beneath his skin as he settled back, finding a comfortable position. Dominique took him in, letting her eyes wander over his body, from his face, down his torso, to his hard, jutting cock.
“Touch me wherever you want, wife,” he said.
His eyes never left hers as she crossed the room, reaching behind her to unhook the strapless bra she wore. She dropped the undergarment on top of his trousers. When she stopped in front of him, she shoved the narrow strips of nude fabric off her hips, letting her thong fall to the floor at her feet.
Ronan’s hands clenched into fists as he stared at her naked body, so close, yet out of his reach. She studied him, taking in the tension of his body, as though he was holding himself back from grabbing her.
His pulse throbbed in his neck when her hands reached out to cup his face, her thumbs drawing a delicate line across his cheekbones. Moving slowly, she ran her palms down his throat, her fingers curled so that her nails lightly scratched the back of his neck.
She felt the shiver that ran through him and couldn’t control her quiet gasp. She felt powerful, knowing that she could make him feel this way. Her gaze flicked to his, but he sat still like he was waiting for her to decide what to do next.
After a moment, her palms continued on their journey over his shoulders and then down his chest. Again, she used her nails on him, raking his skin lightly, with just enough pressure to leave faint pink marks behind. As her hands slipped over his abdomen, Dominique lowered her body until she was kneeling between his spread thighs.
He gasped when her fingers spread wide, and her nails trailed over his hipbones and down to his thighs. He let her push his legs further apart, making more space for her body between them, his hot gaze roving over her face and body.
She was no longer staring into his eyes, her gaze locked on to his hard cock. As she looked at it, her tongue came out to wet her lips and he couldn’t stop the way his dick twitched.
When her hand came up, curling around the base of his shaft, Ronan grabbed at the duvet beneath him, fisting the material tightly, seemingly in an effort to stop himself from touching her.
Moving slowly, Dominique leaned over, opening her mouth, and trailing the tip of her tongue over his length. Ronan hissed at the sensation, pressing his ass into the mattress. Dominique could feel the echo of his pleasure through the burgeoning bond between them.
Her eyes flicked up to his, holding his stare as she opened her mouth and closed it over the head of his cock. Sucking lightly, she moved her fist up and down his length, her grip tightening with each stroke. She loved the way his body trembled as she took him deeper into her mouth, increasing the pressure and suction with each stroke.
“Fuck,” he muttered, the muscles in his thighs growing rigid.
Sensing he was on the edge, she used the tip of her tongue to flick the head of his cock one last time before she lifted her mouth off his cock. Staring up at him, she ran her hands up and down the insides of his thighs, noting the small bead of sweat that trailed down the side of his face. His hands were curled so tightly that his knuckles were white, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Every muscle in his body seemed to stand out as he held himself utterly still.
“Everything all right, husband?” she asked.
He must have heard the tinge of humor in her question because his eyes snapped open and he stared back at her, his chest heaving as he panted.
His brilliant blue eyes were hot and more than a little wild. “Are you teasing me, wife?” he asked.
