Danutians have a special traveling ability called twisting. We can twirl ourselves through the tapestry of the universe and move from one place to another with only a thought. Twisting is limited only by experience. We must visit a place before we are able to twist to it; we need to be able to picture it in our minds and direct our magic towards that location. We can also take up to two passengers with us. But I went alone to Danu that night.
Washington D.C. is only a few hours ahead of Danu so it was dark in my royal bedroom when I arrived there. The night was silent, but that was mainly because I was in the royal residence—the end of the castle that perched on a cliff overlooking the Lene River. The rest of the soaring, sprawling structure consisted of two additional towering keeps. The first keep—the one furthest from my current location—climbed up the mountainside that cradled the Southern capital of Sylene. Bridges that were actually enormous halls spanned the distance between the keeps while the courtyard far below spread around their foundations, filling nearly the entire space between mountain and river as it also bisected the city. To get from the west side of Sylene to the east, you had to either go by boat or walk through a narrow corridor that ran beneath the bridge that connected the first keep to a mountain road.
But I was high above the bustle of the Danutian city, only the plaintive sounds of passing birds drifted in through my open balcony doors. I could just see the tips of the trees in Raeventar Forest, home to the God, Kolltean. The forest swept up to the base of the Lasai Mountain Range which was home to another god, or a goddess, rather—Goddess Sairana, the patron Goddess of the Southern Danutians. I had sacrificed a gift she'd given me—Sairana's Ember—to save the Heart Fire, but Danu was worth that and much more. So many Danutians had sacrificed to create the realm, the Ember was nothing compared to what they'd given.
I headed out of my rooms and down the hall to Everan's. Yes, Danutian royals have separate bedrooms. But when I stayed in Danu, I slept in Ever's bed, usually in his arms as well. I was looking forward to doing just that later. But first, I had to find my husband.
Everan was in his living room. I almost missed him since he was sitting in the dark, sprawled back on a couch that faced the balcony so he could stare at the stars as he sipped his drink. I hesitated in the doorway.
“Are you going to come in and straddle my lap like a good wife or just stand there and stare at me?” Everan drawled.
I smiled to myself as I padded across the thick rugs, their bright colors softened by moonlight. I stepped up behind Ever, slid my arms down his chest, and stole his crystal tumbler. He gave me an indolent look over his shoulder as I straightened, then took a sip.
“You're drinking acoo?” I asked in surprise.
Acoo is a liquor made by Trolls and is so strong that even the Sidhe feel its effects. They usually stayed away from it because it hit them so hard. That being said, it was one of the few liquors I could get drunk on. I took another sip and sauntered around the end of the couch.
“That special immortality you've shared with me seems to have affected my tolerance.” He grinned.
I stopped before Everan, forgetting my words for a moment as I stared at his beauty. And I don't forget words easily. But then, Everan is the kind of handsome that had birthed the word breathtaking. The King of the South was especially mouthwatering when at his leisure, with his long, wavy hair loose around his broad shoulders. The deep caramel locks were darkened by shadows, as were his royal purple eyes. But the moonlight bathed his exotically brutal face and softened it into something ethereal. The square jaw and regal line of his nose became more yielding, and his firm lips parted on a sigh.
I set the drink on a side table and straddled Ever's lap. My pencil skirt slid up my thighs, and I pulled the material even higher so I could sit on his hard thighs. Then I eased a hand into the V of his tunic.
Everan growled in pleasure as he slid a warm palm up my back. “Strip for me,” he said in his king voice—deep and commanding.
I bent forward and nuzzled my cheek along his, breathing in his rich, sweet scent. It held a tinge of something sharp, just like the liquor he was drinking. I let out a soft sigh as I sat back and started undoing the buttons of my blouse. Ever had one arm laid along the back of the couch, looking every inch the king as he watched me possessively. But I could feel the press of his rising lust, and I smiled wickedly as I slid the silk off my shoulders.
A rumbling growl crawled up Everan's throat when my lacy bra came into view. But instead of removing it, my hands went to the waistband of my skirt and I unzipped it slowly. The growl grew louder. I pulled the skirt up and over my head, revealing my lack of panties.
“Dear Danu,” Everan whispered as his stare went to the curls between my thighs. “You beautiful, wicked creature.”
I chuckled softly as I rose onto my knees, his hand sliding down to my ass with the movement. Everan palmed me there and squeezed as I removed my bra at last. Cool night air hit my breasts and tightened my nipples. It was too much for Ever. With a snarl, he pulled me forward, bringing a breast to his mouth, and sucked my nipple into his wet heat.
I groaned and arched into Everan's kiss, my hands weaving through his hair as he flicked me with a very talented tongue. My sex clenched in sudden need and my hips rocked forward. He pulled me closer, then slipped his fingers between my thighs, coming in from the back to tickle my sex. I angled back on him and cried out when his fingers split me. Effervescent pleasure bubbled up my body. The Southern King sucked harder, his free hand moving to my ass to knead me. I went wet and writhed on the flattened edge of his hand. But Everan growled suddenly and lifted me, forcing me to stand on the thick cushions.
I wobbled, but Everan steadied me—one strong hand on my waist as the other spread my sex for his plundering. I screamed as his tongue found my core and lapped eagerly. With that tingling pleasure coursing through me, I didn't care about being unstable; I lifted one leg and set my foot on the back of the couch, opening myself to him.
“That's it,” he growled against me, “Spread your pussy for your king.”
Then Ever chuckled as I grabbed handfuls of his hair and used them to pull him tighter against me. I ground myself over his open mouth wantonly. His tongue slid into me and his lips moved over that bundle of nerves at the top. I couldn't control my body, it worked itself over him without direction from me, wild pants coming from my parted lips. Everan went savage, shaking his face against me like a wolf tearing at a kill. I shattered into a thousand blissful pieces.
“Everan!” I screamed.
Ever caught me when the aftershocks had my knees buckling, and then he helped me to the floor. Limbs loose, he positioned them for me, laying me forward over the seat of the couch while I knelt before it. I sighed as I pressed my cheek into the warmth left behind by his body. Behind me, my husband rapidly shed his clothes and knelt between my knees.
His entrance was so smooth, it felt like becoming whole—a missing piece sliding back into place. My entire body trembled as he pressed in to the hilt, then started a gentle thrusting. Hands roamed over my spine, up into the bun of my hair. Ever removed the clip and tossed it aside, then spread my hair over my back. I sighed as he stroked it gently. But then he wound a length around his fist and pulled.
I moaned, lifting onto my forearms and arching my back for him. Everan made a low sound of possession as he slammed into me, using his grip on my hair as leverage. My body bowed, hips and head lifting, as his cock stretched my sex. Pulses of wild pleasure swept up from where he impaled me, working their way out steadily.
“No sharing,” he growled. “You're mine tonight.”
I wasn't surprised that Everan didn't want to share our pleasure with the other men through the Fusion. He loved fostering the illusion that I was all his, even if he valued our kishanos. His Gods had given their blessing on our fusion, and he was damn proud of that. But he was also a king, and kings, generally, don't like to share.
“I'm all yours, sweetheart,” I purred.
“I'm going to fuck you until the sun rises,” he growled. “Your mouth, your tits, and then your ass. They're all mine.”
I groaned. Cyprian was a master at dirty talk, but when Everan did it, it was without polish. He spoke with pure lust, and there was something powerful in that. Something damn sexy.
