With a shivering rush that felt more profound than it should have, the Dragon King of Sken pushed past my outer ring and slipped into me. With a cry, he fell forward, taking my legs from me to support on his shoulders. I clutched at his bulging arms and sought his stare. As he began to pump, Rian met my gaze, just as I hoped he would, and our stares locked. Neither of us could look away as he drove pleasure into me and took it for himself. We couldn't break our stares when he sped up, not even when the bed creaked and my body jerked from his savage thrusts. I held his wild stare even as I screamed through my orgasm, spilling over my stomach. And he held mine when he cried out and filled me.
As we collapsed together in a pile of sweaty limbs and satisfaction, we continued to stay visually united, our heads turning as he lay down beside me. Rian's lips found mine and only then did we break our stare. Still, it was only briefly, closing our eyes to savor the kiss. And when we broke apart, we went right back to gazing softly at each other.
“That was the most incredible sex of my life,” Rian said.
With a bit of shock, I realized it was true for me as well. So I said it, but in another way, “I have never felt more connected to a lover through sex.”
“Then you don't regret inviting me to stay even though I went faster than I said I would?”
“I never tried to slow you down, did I?”
Rian grinned. “No, you didn't.”
Then I bit my lip. “Will you stay the night?”
“I already said I would.”
“But that was before you had me.”
Rian chuckled. “And you think that having you would make me want to leave?”
I shrugged.
“Don't be absurd. It's the complete opposite. Now that I know what it's like to be inside you, I don't think I'll ever get enough.” He pulled me into his arms and tucked my head beneath his. “I'm not going anywhere, Galin. Get used to it.”
Chapter Fourteen
I made us a simple dinner of bread, cheese, jam, and sausages with hot tea and water to drink. We sat at my little, two-seat dining table by the kitchen window and watched the snow fall as we ate. It was the most comfortable I'd ever been with a lover.
My gaze kept sliding away from the window and over to Rian. Dressed only in his shirt, and that hanging open, he was more mouthwatering than the meal. His hair hung in tousled disarray, his lips were plump from kisses, and his face flushed. I was deeply attracted to the meticulous, civilized King Rianvar, but this carefree, well-loved version was enough to make me swoon.
It was also enough to make me feel free enough to ask, “How did you get that scar?”
He didn't stiffen or grimace as I thought he might. Instead, he cocked his head at me. “You know, you're the first to ask me.”
“No. That can't be true.”
“It is.”
“Not even a Dragon?”
“The Dragons know how I got it.”
“Oh? Then it happened when you were young?”
“No. It happened at the Crown Tourney.”
“When you became King? How long ago was that?”
“Many, many years.” He shrugged, then considered it. “How long have I ruled now? Must be three centuries.”
“That long? And no one has ever asked you about your scar?”
“Not directly, no. I've had lovers stroke it as if asking, but no one has dared to put it into words.”
“Huh.” I made a face. “You must seem scary to some.”
“To some?” Rian laughed. “But not you?”
