“Are you?”
“Yes,” he vowed.
“Then show me,” she whispered, her eyes darkening.
It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.
At his hesitation, she paused her approach. “Unless you do not want to.” There it was—the insecurity he would do everything in his power to vanquish so it would never see the light of day again. Or the dark of night.
“Oh, I very much want to,” he said, his voice unintentionally predatory.
“Then show me, husband,” she ordered in the voice that marked her as queen.
Thosewords,thatorder,snapped his resolve.
Vali closed the distance between them and captured her mouth, his hands coming around her waist to pull her body flush with his. She opened for him, allowing him to taste her.
Lavender and wine coated her tongue as their mouths moved together. He wasn’t surprised there was no hesitation, no timidness in the way they came together to learn each other. He proved that she was ready for him as she matched his growing frenzy.
His instincts took over as he swept her off her feet and into his arms, unable to stop himself from inhaling her gasp and nipping at her lip when she protested.
“You are my wife and I’m going to carry you to my bed,” he growled. “If you have a problem with that, tell me right now. Otherwise I expect you to be a good, pretty queen and obey your king.”
She bit his lip, nearly drawing blood, before stealing his breath with a punishing kiss. He wanted to laugh at the change in her. Just moments ago, she had been unsure if she could please him. It would be his honour to prove her wrong, to show her what she had clearly missed out on.
Formal and prim, a proper royal. But that bite told him what he knew deep down. The fervour that lingered under her skin would make even the most sensual person blush.
“Take me to bed, King,” she challenged, looking almost as surprised as he felt at her brazenness. He would punish her for that insolence and take pleasure in doing so.
When he covered her mouth again, the taste of her drove him wild with need. Before they got to his bed, he put her down, spinning her so she faced away.
He carefully untied the strings of the overskirt he’d made for her—though she didn’t know his hands had bled from stitching the flowers on himself.
The moment he’d seen her wearing his gift, accepting it, his heart soared. He couldn’t place the feeling as it built in his heart.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he handled the skirt with care, folding it once and then draping it over the chaise.
“For what?” He delighted in the shiver of her raised skin as he allowed himself a sweep of his lips across her neck.
“The skirt.”
“It was my pleasure.”
His capable hands moved to the lacing on her Elven dress. The gown loosened as the strings fell one by one and he untied the knots, placing kisses on each inch of exposed skin.
“Tell me about this?” he asked as he revealed a beautiful tattoo of flowers that trailed down her rib cage, disappearing under the skirt.
“When my element solidified, I felt compelled to get the tattoo, but I almost didn’t.”
“Why not?” he asked, taking his time to memorize the way thin lines bled into thick ones, weaving through the arrangement expertly.
He felt her shrug. “I was to be queen. Even though tattoos are common among the Fae, encouraged even, I felt above it.”
That brought a smile to his face because he’d always wondered why she was the only Idavoll royal who didn’t have tattoos. Westley had the one on his neck that ran all the way down his shoulder and arms. Souther had the most detailed back tattoo he’d ever seen. And Easta’s leg and thigh tattoos were always showcased with her high slits and exposed skin.
But North was modest, so Vali never would’ve been granted the honour of seeing her in this state of undress. He wanted all the pieces she wouldn’t allow others to have.
“What changed your mind?” He paused his removal of her clothes, understanding this was somehow important and he wouldn’t want to miss it. As if he sensed that this would be difficult for her, he placed steadying hands on her arms and pulled her back against his chest.
