Page 105 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“You threw me off the bed.”

“And?”

“And bit me.” She moaned as Argos licked her bite marks again, and it was almost too much to bear on top of everything else. She winced. “That really hurt, you gigantic brat.”

Argos looked at her so lovingly, she almost wanted to take it back, until he said, “Of the two of us, I’m the brat?”

He flipped Theora onto her stomach, and she found herself giggling in true enjoyment as he grabbed her hips, shifting her ass to the angle he wanted. For once in her life, she was more than happy to surrender all control without even a thought. To not be a queen desperately striving to be the best ruler for her people. To just be…a woman. A woman unmoved by the worries of the world. A woman taking pleasure in her husband. A woman…in love.

Chapter 30

Theora

Theora rolled over in bed, her body protesting the effort with a groan. She felt heavy, achy, raw. Was sex supposed to make you feel like you’d just tumbled down a mountain, hitting every rock along the way?

She willed herself to sit up, touching her head to make sure her silk scarf was still in place. It was a wonder she’d remembered to put it on after…

Theora covered her blushing cheeks with her hands. Consummation was one thing. An all-night passion fest was something else entirely. She’d counted at least five orgasms before begging for her first break—after that her brain could no longer keep up, didn’t want to. She just wanted to enjoy every moment with her husband before she had to share him with the world.

The beautiful part was, it wasn’t just sex—between sessions they would chat and laugh and cuddle. Theora didn’t know why cuddling was one of her favorite parts…perhaps because she’d never really done it before. Not since she was a child.

Still, when Argos wasn’t restricted by Honor and the original rules she’d put in place, even with his injury, he was a lot to take. She should’ve expected it, since he seemed to have an unlimited supply of stamina when it came to fighting and hunting…Maybe she just hadn’t expected that sort of behavior from herself.

Argos walked in from the adjoining room with a tray of assorted items. He placed the tray on the side table, while Theora put on her glasses to see what was on it.

“Good morning,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible, which was silly—this was no longer just a marriage of convenience. She cleared her throat and tried again, nerves making her voice squeak slightly. “Good morning.”

Argos leaned his hands on either side of her on the bed and kissed her. Theora knew it was coming, and yet she had no idea what to do with her hands, so she just placed them on top of his, her touch turning to a grip as he sucked her bottom lip.

“Wow,” she gasped.

Argos smirked. “Good morning,” he replied as he stood to organize his tray, then handed her a plate of oranges—sliced the way she liked them. “Finish all of them.”

“Is that a command?”

“Instruction,” he said with a raise of his brow. “I figured you skipped over learning these particular rituals.”

“I certainly did. Avoided all thought of them like the plague, in fact.”

“And look at you now. Underprepared. Tragically dependent.”

Theora raised a brow. “Please don’t annoy me this early in the morning, Argos.”

“It’s not that early.” He glanced at his watch. “Ten, actually.”

“Oh, Sovereign.” Theora groaned. “I’m so late.”

“For what?” He offered their salute, then held her chin in his hand. “All of them,” he repeated gently.

Theora could’ve melted at his touch, his tone. “Okay,” she said.

He took the tray with the rest of the items into the bathroom.

She put a fluffy pillow in her lap to rest the plate on and set to eating her orange slices. She wasn’t even hungry, but if Argos said to eat them, she would do it. She’d never wanted to please someone so thoroughly in all her life. She had never thought she’d be that kind of wife. Honestly, she’d never expected any sort of difference in her life—she was a queen, and she would remain a queen doing queenly things, only with the addition of a consort to provide her with company and maybe accompany her to public events.

She’d never expected to care for a man so deeply that she would do whatever he asked of her. Not only that she would do it, but that she would want to. That she would enjoy making him happy.

Argos came back over and helped her out of bed. She winced, holding on to him so her knees wouldn’t buckle, and he responded by picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom, where there was a steaming bowl of water mixed with oils and florals, and a towel laid out on the ground. He put her on her feet on top of the towel, positioning her with his hands on her shoulders.