“No,” I said with a sniff. “It is not. I wish for our first time to be memorable.”
But Guinevere just shrugged as if it did not matter. “That’s just assuming I won’t be able to get you hard again.”
I was shocked by the sultry way she had said the words and the ease with which she had said them.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I fear my queen is a minx in sheep’s clothes.”
Guinevere grinned, her fingers tightening on my hair. “You should have known that about me already, Merlin.”
In a flash, Guinevere flipped us around with an astonishing amount of strength and I was now sitting perched on the ledge as Guinevere slid onto my lap and back down onto my aching cock.
Her brown eyes locked with mine as her hips rose and dropped, sending a ripple of pleasure through me that nearly did me in.
“Don’t worry about coming,” she whispered into my ear as she tightened around me. “We can go all night.”
With a grunt, I wrapped my arms around her torso and held her tightly to me as I felt our magic sizzle over the surface of our skin.
My insides shuddered and quaked and I felt her gasp against me as her nails dug their way down my back.
I came, my vision blurring as the sound of my voice echoed off of the low ceiling of the bathing room.
Much, much later as we lay together on the stone floor of the bathing room with just our clothes bunched underneath us, I stared up at the ceiling, tracing circles on her skin that seemed to tingle with our shared magic. The water still glowed slightly from our magic, illuminating the room in a soft green light.
“So, what did you think?” Guinevere asked as she pushed up on my chest so she could see my face.
“I think I finally understand what the alphas mean when they say their omegas sucked every single drop of life from their bodies,” I answered her dryly.
Guinevere pressed a kiss to my jaw before continuing down my chest, her brown eyes on mine.
“Cease that, I have nothing left for you, Gwen,” I groaned as she nibbled on my skin.
“Not even a little bit more?” she asked with a pout and a flutter of her lashes.
“No,” I told her firmly. “You will have to give me some rest and perhaps a meal first.”
Guinevere rested her chin on my chest, seemingly content with my words. “I’ll hold you to it.”
I knew she would.
After a while, she spoke again. “Do you think everyone will accept our arrangement? The pack I mean?”
I could tell she was thinking about her near-brush with death a few days ago.
“They will follow Arthur’s rule—they always have and always will.”
“What does it mean, your highness?” one of the knights—Sir Bors I believed—asked as we gathered around the round table for the first time in months. “Are we meant to serve these others the same way we serve you?”
“Hear, hear!” the rest of the knights chorused as they all continued to speak over one another.
Despite my earlier reassurances to Guinevere who was resting after her long heat had finally abated, the knights and the rest ofthe castle servants were full of discontent over the change from the norm.
They had, thankfully, not said a word of such disdain to Guinevere, but now as we called a council meeting to discuss the inevitability of a full-scale Saxon invasion, they had questions.
Arthur remained silent as he let his knights speak, his expression calm.
“And what of heirs? Your majesty, are you not worried for your line?” Sir Lionel asked, slamming a fist onto the table as if the entire proposition of a pack was preposterous.
I stood behind Arthur’s chair, growing increasingly more annoyed by their downright disrespect, and while I had no bond to share with the other four members of what I now thought of as my pack, I could see the irritated set of their shoulders from where I was standing.
