thirty-eight
George wears a toga.
“You’resupp—oh!”Georgewriggled,sending water sloshing over the side of the tub. “You’re supposed to be washing me, Isahn.”
A second cord of magic joined his first, slithering between her legs. “I am,” he rumbled in her ear.
Georgetta sucked in a harsh breath, pushing back into his chest when one tendril entered her, squirming delightfully. The second picked up its pace, humming like a swarm of bees against her clit. She wriggled and found herself trapped between his thick, corded thighs.
“I’m making sure you’re very, very clean.” He continued his magical ministrations. His unyielding erection bobbed against her spine when he leaned in, plucked her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tipped her face up to look at him.
She stared into his stunning blue eyes, entranced, mouth slightly ajar, emitting nothing but small pants and gasps as he carried her toward ecstasy. George wanted to move her hands,pull his face down and kiss him. But she was incapable at the moment, gripping the sides of the tub while she unraveled in his arms.
As if reading her mind, Isahn dipped his head and closed the distance between them. His kiss was slow, hard,throbbing. Their tongues massaged one another as his free hand molded to her breast. His magic between her thighs hit a fever pitch, and George exploded.
She expressed something along the lines of, “Deiwa. I love you so much.” But her final moan and ensuing words were swallowed by Isahn’s perfect mouth.
“Isn’t that better, my queen?”
The last vestiges of his magic pulsed faintly at her core, or maybe she was just feeling her own spasms. When he pulled his water away, it left her bereft, even though she was still submerged in the stuff. It wasn’t the same when he wasn’t feeling her through it. “Mhm,” she begrudgingly agreed.
Isahn turned his attention to her hair, and she relaxed, content, while his fingers massaged her scalp. His attentions, all of them, were quite welcomed, especially on the heels of the past weeks.
Taking the throne was a lot of work. Maintaining it was more. She’d expected it, relished it even. But, no matter how much George wanted this, no matter the blood, sweat, tears, and years she’d poured into planning her reign, it was still an exhausting endeavor, more than anticipated. There were meetings, proclamations, removals and appointments of viceroys, more meetings, more proclamations, and so on. Trying to make a dent in undoing the wrongs of several centuries in Domos was an undertaking.
She may have been at the helm, but come tempests or tragedies, Georgetta knew she wasn’t steering the ship alone. Her crew, her team, herfriends, they were there to support her.And Isahn. She’d always have him. Her former earl may have shown up late to the game—or been drawn in unwillingly, as it were—but his role, his presence in her life, was critical in making her queen, and would be critical in keeping her a good one for years to come. Same with Hildy, Ean, Wynnie, Dunstan, Burke, Adda, and a handful of others. She owed them her life. She owed them her Crown. Today was as much about them as it was about her.
It was coronation day.
Working diligently behind the scenes was one thing, but standing before her subjects with a shiny new crown upon her head? Georgetta would have been lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it. She wasn’t exactly conceited, but she damn well knew who was the driving force behind freeing the people of Hepikoru, and she looked forward to standing before them that very day.
Inhaling deeply, she shivered with excitement.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Isahn tilted her head back so he could rinse the suds from her curls.
“Just thinking about things. About everything,” she tacked on.
“I knew you could do it.”
“What? Think about everything?”
“No.” He pulled her into a tight embrace, chest rumbling joyously against her back. “Become queen. Free the fae and the aides. Fix things for Domos.”
“Woah, there.” George looked up at Isahn with wide eyes. “I have a long way to go before everyone’s properly free, and I don’t think Domos willeverbe perfect.”
“Wehave a long way to go. You’re not alone in this.”
“I know. I was just thinking about that.” George began to climb out of the tub, allowing him to “help,” even though his hands were too far misplaced to be considered accommodating. Firmlyon the tile floor, she stood with wide feet and arms spread. “Dry me, my future king.”
He pulled water from her hair and every inch of her skin before shaping the liquid into a single word that hovered in the air just inches from her face:Consort.
Laughter freed itself from her lungs as Georgetta slapped the liquid in a misty spray. “Consort, yes, I know.” She stared him down. “Can’t you let me have the nickname? I promise to never let you make another decision again.”
“Neverletme make? Or nevermakeme make?” he checked, climbing out of the tub.
She winked saucily before sashaying to the mirror to study her curls. He always dried them to perfection. It was a marvel. “Youreallydon’t want to lead?”
“Not at all.” Isahn sidled up behind her, meeting her gaze in their reflection.
