They both cried out as he bottomed out inside her. He'd been right. She wasn't wet enough for him. The burn was so good Raveena pressed her fists into the mattress to raise her ass higher, to press herself back and get more of him into her. He could never be deep enough. She had him where she wantedhim, where he belonged, buried inside her so deep that she couldn't tell where he ended and she began.
His hand went around her throat. Those calluses pressed into her neck, constricting her air supply.
"Tell me you're mine," he growled.
"Yours," she gasped. "Always." She tried to inhale but barely got a whisper of air. Still, she managed. "Forever."
Graham roared in her ear as they both came. Raveena's intimate muscles clamped down on him as he poured his seed into her womb. When she returned to her rooms later, she would take no tinctures to avoid the possibility of what might come from their coupling. Before she passed out from the pleasure and the lack of oxygen, she prayed to the God Mothers that his seed would take root.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He was still hard.
Graham had taken Raveena from behind, holding her down while thrusting deep until the slap of his balls on her clit made her come a third time. Before she'd come to, he'd rolled her to her side, shoving her knees into her chest and tugging handfuls of her hair until her head bent back and her hips curved helplessly into his as he dove deeper into her core with his cock. She regained consciousness as her muscles squeezed his in another orgasm. Then he flattened her on her back, holding her hands over her head, tossing her legs over his shoulders and piling into her still slick cunt until she begged for mercy.
He showed her none. Because he knew the mercy she asked for was not for him to stop. She needed the claiming as much as he needed to stake ownership over every part of her in every manner that she could be taken.
Hours later, he was still hard. Exhausted but raring for another go. That's how it always was with her. Graham would never get enough of this woman. And she would never deny him.
Even when she'd married the king, she hadn't considered barring Graham from her bed. The problem lay with him because he couldn't stomach sharing her with another.
"I'm going to have to kill the princeling."
Raveena lifted a brow at him even as her eyes remained closed. "After our wedding night, when I seal ownership of the crown, you can do what you like with Charming."
"You're not marrying that twat."
"Fine." She lifted one bare shoulder in a shrug. "Then you'll kill Snow for me."
"There's been enough killing, Ray."
"There'll be more deaths if I lose my crown."
Graham hunched down in the bed until he was nose to nose with her. Languidly, she opened her eyes. The blue ice made him burn.
"I won't let anyone take the crown or the castle from you. Every man from Fenvalen and Everfrost will fall in line behind me after I've brought them home from the war. You have your tenterhooks in me. Where you go, I'll follow. So you'll have an army behind you."
She gazed at him, her expression unreadable. "I've always been confused about that expression. Is it tender hooks? Or tenterhooks?"
"Does it matter? If anyone comes for your crown, they have to go through me first. And no one is getting past me to get to you. It would be war."
Raveena huffed and rolled her eyes. "I didn't orchestrate a peace to put you back into war, Graham."
"I won that war."
"Of course you did." She waved dismissively. "My plan now is far more elegant and less bloody. Kill either Snow or Charming, and my path is clear. Or kill them both. Then there's no need for armies to fight."
"Do you think I can't best Charming's pretty boy army?"
"It's not Charming I'm worried about. These are queens that we'd be fighting, not mindless trolls."
The fire in the corner had burned down to a whisper, casting long shadows along the rough-hewn stone walls. Graham lay on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling in the slow, heavy rhythm of a man undone. Beside him, Raveena sprawled in the curve of his body, all soft limbs and sharp silence. Her skin was still damp with sweat, her pale hair tangled across his chest like a banner.
He wanted to roll over on his stomach and hitch her onto his back. But he didn't feel the need. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. She was his—physically, at least. If there was a way he could reach into her heart and pull that organ to him, he would. But as always, it was her head that he was fighting with. More aptly, the phantom crown on her head that she would give up for no one.
They’d moved like a storm and fire when their bodies were joined, all fury and possession. Now the quiet settled in. And with it, the ache behind Graham’s eyes sharpened. His focus shifted to the real problem between them.
Charming.
