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“Careful there, Trouble,” he gritted out, hands fisting in the sheets.

She said nothing back, only smirked as she bent over him and began dotting light kisses across his abdomen. Cedric tensed, his muscles quivering as she traced a path down the length of his torso, peeling back the blanket to reveal the rest of his naked form, fully at the ready for her.

Elyria turned her head, mischievous emerald eyes meeting Cedric’s golden-brown ones for a split second before she licked her lips and took him into her mouth.

Cedric couldn’t form words, so immediately lost was he to the mind-blowing pleasure brought on by Elyria’s swirling tongue and hollowing cheeks. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when she traced a long line down the underside of his cock with the tip of her tongue, then grazed the ridge of his head with her teeth.

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he said, regaining just enough of his composure to send the words down the bond before grabbing her by the waist.

Elyria squealed as Cedric pulled her onto his lap in one smooth motion, and he groaned in response when her slick heat slid against his length, wet and eager.

“All this for me?” he asked, hunger morphing his voice into a low rasp.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She gasped and tilted her hips, rubbing herself along his cock. “What, you didn’t want me to continue, my king?”

“I simply need you in other ways, my queen.” He leaned forward and crashed his lips to hers, and Elyria moaned into his mouth while she shifted so that his tip was free to edge inside her.

Sparks licked up Cedric’s spine as she lowered herself onto him—an excruciatingly slow descent. She seated herself completely, her body welcoming him, her inner walls fluttering around him now that he was buried to the hilt.

It was the best and worst thing he would ever experience, he knew this.

Best—because, stars above, there would never in a hundred universes and a thousand lifetimes be anything better than the feeling of sliding through her tightness. Worst—because they were so attuned to one another, their bodies so in sync, their pleasure so acute, that they both found themselves careening over the edge after only a few magnificent minutes of rolling hips and bruising kisses and quivering touches—a decadent heaven that simply never lasted long enough.

He spilled inside her with a final thrust, Elyria crying Cedric’s name. She collapsed breathlessly atop him, her sweat-beaded forehead resting against his chest. And as they spun down from their respective highs, as he was still buried deep inside the woman he loved, Cedric Thorne wondered if there was such a thing as being too happy.

Elyria

“All right, first stop needs to be the kitchens. Artie informs me he’s been fermenting some fancy new type of cider, and Thraigg says it’s the worst thing he’s ever tasted, which probably means it’s perfect and wonderful and delicious, and I want to try it. Plus, the cooks tell me the latest batch of bacon should be done curing by now.”

Elyria skipped across the bedroom, pulling a pale purple dress from the back of a chair. She vanished her wings for just a moment, slipping the dress on overhead before letting them reappear.

“What do you think, too much purple?” She dragged her fingers through her tangled hair with a frown, then hastily began braiding it over her shoulder. “Agness just sent me this one, but I’m thinking maybe she made it as a joke.”

“What’s the punchline?” Cedric said, giving her an approving once-over that made Elyria’s cheeks heat. “You look beautiful.”

She flashed him a smile, then picked up her crown from where it rested on her vanity and plopped it onto her head. “I could be wearing an oversized potato sack and you would say I look beautiful.”

“I would, because it would be true,” Cedric said proudly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stretching his arms.

Elyria admired the flex of the muscles at his back . . . and his side . . . and his front as he strode over to his dresser. She fought the urge to zoom over and run her tongue along each ridge of his abdomen, trailing right back down toward his⁠—

No, Elyria, you insatiable slut, she scolded herself. She and Cedric had just finished with each other. There’d be time for another round later.

And then maybe another one after that.

“What about you, Your Majesty? What would you like to accomplish on this rare, oh so elusive free day of ours?”

Cedric looked up from where he was fastening the ties on his trousers. “Well, Tristan did ask if I’m free to swing by and see how the new recruits are coming along in their training, so I suppose if we’re heading down to the kitchens anyway, we could just stop⁠—”

“No! No work. No duties. That’s the whole stars-damned point, dummy.” She looked for something to throw at him, but she came up empty. Everything in her immediate vicinity she was actually rather fond of. Including, she supposed, Cedric himself. So, she did the next best thing and launched herself at him.

He staggered back, his hands immediately going to support her under her ass as the force of her assault sent him careening backward. The backs of his knees hit the mattress, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, Elyria in his lap.

“Well, would you look at that,” she teased through their bond, gazing down at him. “Fancy meeting you here again.”

“Elle.”

“No more work talk, yes?” she said warningly.