"They chose the wrong Queen to test," I whisper, watching how my words make his pupils dilate further. "The wrong Ruthless Kings to threaten."
"Yes," he agrees, satisfaction evident in every line of his body. His lips brush mine, the touch feather-light yet carrying unmistakable possession. "And now they'll learn exactly what happens when you awaken something darker than any poison they could engineer."
The promise in his words sends anticipation coursing through my veins, a heady mixture of vengeance and desire that transcends physical limitations. Because this is who we've become—creatures forged in fire and shadow, tempered by pain and obsession, bound by something deeper than conventional understanding could ever capture.
"How long until we return?" I ask, already calculating possibilities, planning moves in a game that's suddenly shifted in our favor. Those who seek our destruction have no concept of how this attempted destruction has only sharpened my resolve and fueled the darkness that's always lived within me.
Zander's smile turns predatory, matching the hunger I know burns in my own expression.
"When you're ready," he says simply. "When you've healed enough to ensure victory rather than mere survival." He leaned in to kiss me firmly, making me moan as whatever tension was forming in my limbs began to ease. “Healed and satisfied,” he mutters against my lips, which makes me smirk before closing the distance to kiss him.
“We always seem to lead to this, don’t we?” I hum seductively, making him groan further as he further presses me against him. I can already feel the bulge of his groin, while his teeth tug on my bottom lip before he sucks deeply. “Almost die, fuck, and repeat?”
“Yeah,” he admits sounding a bit annoyed by the implications but the way he’s fighting the lift of the corners of his lips tells me he doesn’t mind the ‘fucking’ part. “Maybe let’s avoid that cycle this time.”
“So no fucking?” I ask only to giggle at the way he kisses me long and hard, his hand moving to squeeze my left ass cheek.
“Fuck no,” he grunts. “You feel how hard I am for you, Eva. I’m not going to sleep until you’re withering beneath me after the best wave of ecstasy you’ve experienced.”
“Raising those standards, huh?” I tease before he’s claiming my lips.
The heat of Zander's body against mine is a furnace of need, his breath fanning across my lips, each exhale tasting of smoke and salt.
He leans into me, pressing me against the balcony ledge, his hands bracketing my hips as he devours my mouth in slow, deep strokes that make my head spin. The sun creeps higher on the horizon, gilding us in molten gold, but my focus narrows to the man before me, the one who holds me like I'm something to be cherished even as his grip promises ruin.
My hands tangle in his thick hair, pulling him closer, needing the contact like oxygen. His responding growl rumbles throughhis chest, a sound of hunger and restraint, a battle he’s barely winning.
"You're beautiful like this," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to take me in.
The morning light bathes my skin, my white dress nearly translucent where it clings to my body. I see the way his gaze darkens, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he drinks me in.
"Like a goddess waking at dawn, untouched by the chaos of this world. Except you’re not untouched, are you, sweet dynamite? You’re mine. Marked. Claimed. And I need to remind you just how much."
A shiver races through me, my core clenching in anticipation.
I brace my hands against the balcony railing, my breath hitching as his palms glide down my sides, over my hips, before curling under the hem of my dress. His fingers skim the sensitive skin of my thighs, teasing, coaxing, as he slowly sinks to his knees before me.
Zander kneeling is a sight that steals my breath. His broad shoulders framed by the endless sea, his head tilted up to me as if in worship. But there’s nothing submissive in the way his hands grip my thighs, parting them wider, his thumbs pressing firm circles into my skin as he watches my chest rise and fall in anticipation.
"Hold onto the ledge," he instructs, his voice thick with command, and I obey, fingers curling over the sun-warmed stone as he pushes my dress higher, exposing the aching heat between my legs.
His lips brush the inside of my thigh, the contact featherlight, a cruel contrast to the intensity simmering in his gaze. His fingers tighten, holding me steady as his mouth travels higher, teasing kisses trailing closer and closer to where I need him most.
"Zander—" My voice fractures on his name, my body tightening with need, but he only chuckles, the sound wicked as he breathes me in.
"So eager," he taunts, running his nose along my slit, his breath hot against my bare skin. "Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. I missed this, missed you."
His tongue flicks out, the first deliberate touch that sends a bolt of pleasure through me. My hips jolt, but his grip holds me still as he licks me again, slower this time, savoring. My head falls back, a breathless moan escaping as he begins his feast.
He eats me like he’s starved like he’s been waiting for this exact moment to unravel me. His tongue traces every inch of me, dipping, teasing, before he sucks my clit into his mouth with a sudden, devastating pull.
I’m soaked far too quickly, and he greedily sucks my juices like these are his last days and he must quench that desperate plague of thirst. I can barely last, my breath hitch as my core coils, that rush of pleasure building so swiftly, I can only brace myself like a rollercoaster at the tip of a steep descent.
“Z-Zander,” I warn and gasp. “Fuck! So…ah.”
A cry breaks from my lips, my legs trembling as he works me over with ruthless precision. His fingers dig into my thighs, keeping me open, keeping me at his mercy. Every flick of his tongue, every slow stroke, is designed to drive me higher, to make me fall apart before I can even think about holding back.
"Fuck," I whimper, my nails scraping against the balcony’s edge. "Zander, please?—"
