Even though I’m certain I’ll destroy her.
I close the gap between us, but I don’t touch her, my voice lowering even further as I repeat one final time, resolutely, “Yes.”
She answers me with that small smile.
That fucking powerful smile that stabs at my heart and nearly drives me to my knees.
“Okay, then,” she says.
As if she hasn’t just willingly accepted the weight of my future onto her shoulders, she glides back to the table, finally reaching for the food I brought her.
“So hungry,” is all she murmurs before she begins devouring a pastry with as much relish as she ate the thistleberry the other night.
Her moans of delight send my body into overdrive, my cock hard up against my armor, the spiral of my emotions from rage to hope to peace too much of a mess for me to fight my rising need.
I’m at her side in moments, my hand falling lightly to her shoulder, my thumb grazing her bare neck, stroking up across her earlobe, at which her eyes flicker closed, and a different sigh leaves her lips.
I’m about to ask for her consent when she brushes the crumbs from her chin before rising to her feet. “I’m sure I can conserve my strength enough for the day.”
Her arms slip around me, her body straining upward to reach my height so her lips can crash against mine. Only to part a moment later as she gasps for breath. “In case you have any doubt about what I want, please fuck me.”
I can’t stop my brutal smile, holding her close while sweeping my arm across the table behind her,clearing off the food, sending it crashing to the floor, along with that fucking envelope.
Meanwhile, Thyra tugs urgently at the armor covering my stomach and chest, pushing at it with her palms.
I wrench off the pieces, sending them scattering as wildly as the food, aware of the way her clothing has parted all the way from her shoulders to her upper legs, her naked breasts colliding with my finally armor-free chest, her legs slipping around my hips as I hoist her up onto the table.
One of my arms is still covered in armor. So is my left leg. I’m wearing the leather strap I’ll never remove in her presence. But none of that fucking matters.
She pulls herself toward me, her hand closing around my cock, drawing me into her, arching back as I complete the thrust.
I can’t get enough of her. Her moans. The way she rocks against me. The firmness of the nub between her folds and the cry she makes when I rub my thumb gently against it. How she rests herself back onto the table, her legs wrapped hard around my waist and her hips lifting, taking every pounding thrust.
She’s more than my hope.
More than a single truth.
She’s everything.
Every shred of distant light. Every sliver of faith. Every promise of an impossible redemption.
As she arches up against me and her body tightens around me, her orgasm sends me crashing into willful destruction.
“Mine to protect,” I snarl, riding the waves of pleasure until only one thought remains.
Come what may, my poisoned heart is hers.
The moment we emerge from the catacombs, my instincts prickle.
The hallway is bustling with activity. Unlike yesterday, guards line the walls, constant eyes watching us.
Placing Thyra back on her feet after carrying her safely through the blood magic, I keep my voice low. “It’s clearly Mother’s intention not to lose sight of us today.”
Thyra’s bright smile is far from gentle, a sharp contrast to her true nature. “Will I obey your first rule?”
It takes me a moment to remember. “Remain within my sight at all times.”
“Gladly,” she says, sweeping ahead of me, but not so fast that the ruby circlet will pull taut between us.
