“It's you and me,” I promise, driving my cock into her. “Tell me you love me and I’ll give you more.”
Her emerald eyes never leave me, and she bites her bottom lip between her teeth, breath ragged and frayed.
Her thighs tremble against my shoulders, and I know her release is close.
I move my palm from her stomach, and add pressure to her clit. “Say it,” I demand.
“I love you,” she breathes, and I drive my cock into her.
“I love you,” she repeats, and I thrust again.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she echoes, and I can’t fucking stop.
She owns me. Commands me.
I listen to her words reverberate through the chamber, and I’m lost to it—lost to the oblivion that is Elyssara Dawnmere.
Her moan of ecstasy rips through the room, shattering my final restraint.
Her hips buck wildly, her back bowing off the bed, and her pussy clenches around my cock in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. But her eyes are fixed on mine. Her lips part in euphoria, and I add more pressure to her clit. I want her undone beneath me.
I wring every last shred of pleasure from her body, and her face softens into something stunning—rapture. Bliss.
I follow her into pleasure, coming at the sight of her body writhing against my fingers and cock.
My body shudders and wracks, and a carnal growl rips from my throat.
But I can’t take my eyes off her—devouring, worshipful, as she watches me come.
She’s fucking beautiful. Perfect.My Queen.
When the trembling slows, I don’t move right away.
Her body softens beneath mine, all heat and languor, every line of her gone pliant and golden. I ease down beside her and she folds into me as if she was always meant to fit there—breath for breath, heartbeat for heartbeat.
The room smells of smoke and salt, shrouded in a haze of snuffed out candles.
Her head rests against my chest, tracing idle circles over the fresh ink that maps the night sky across my arms. The constellations inked in onyx glimmer faintly where the candlelight catches them, the same patterns that now live in her skin. But hers? They’re shimmering gold. Light and shadow,tethered and whole. Her fingers drift to her upper arm, finding the silver cuff pressing into her skin. The metal still hums faintly, the pulse of the magic that set her free.
There’s a kind of worship that happens after pleasure—the quiet kind, the reverent kind—where every part of her feels like mine to memorize. The slope of her shoulder beneath my hand, the warmth of her breath against my ribs, the way her fingers wander over my marks like she’s learning the shape of her name in another language. This is the part that ruins me most. Not the way she takes me.Because fuck, she takes me so well.Not the way she comes apart—every part of it something to worship. But the way she rests against me afterwards as if she trusts the ground itself won’t dare shift beneath us while she sleeps in my arms.
I didn’t know if giving her the cuff now would work. If it would meet the rules the cuff demanded. I hoped the fates, the prophecy, Elyssara would feel the truth: that this is all for her. Freely given, no agendas.
“How did you know?” she asks at last, voice hazy, half-asleep. “How did you find it?”
I smile against her hair, the answer easy. “Gellesk.”
She huffs out a laugh that shakes her shoulders. “Of course. Fuckin’ Gellesk.”
She pauses for a moment. “Where was it?” she asks, body heavy.
“Still in Duskridge Hollow. They thought it was a scrap of tin,” I laugh, not that I didn’t have to cut down at least a dozen men for it.
“Mavyrn took you?” she asks.
“Seren.”
“I always knew she was made for more,” she sighs, completely unsurprised.
