27. Reyla
27
REYLA
I was caught in a storm that threatened to burn through every bit of my reason. Merrick's lips slanted across mine with an urgency that left me breathless, his tongue invading my mouth, making heat pool between my legs. He gripped my arms, holding me in place, as if he feared I’d slip away if he didn't keep me close.
I gasped for air, which he took as an invitation, dipping his tongue in to stroke mine with a rhythm that set my pulse surging.
When I whimpered, his touch gentled, his fingers trailing down my spine, coaxing a shiver from me that had nothing to do with the cool mountain air. His hands roved over my sides, inching ever closer to the aching peaks of my breasts.
In a bold move that surprised even me, I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, my body aligning with his in a way that felt deliciously right. My skirt rode up to my knees, but I couldn't bring myself to care about the impropriety of it all. All I could think about was the way his breath hitched when I ground against him, the way his eyes darkened with need.
“Merrick,” I breathed, my voice a bare whisper. His name was both a plea and a cry of surrender, a recognition of the power he held over me.
His hand cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive nub through the fabric of my gown. A moan ripped from my mouth, and I arched my back, begging for more. I was wanton, shameless in my desire for this man—my king, my husband.
With the deft fingers of his other hand, Merrick bunched up the fabric of my skirt, fisting it, his hand skimming across my thigh, moving higher and higher until the cool air kissed my most intimate parts. I should’ve felt exposed and vulnerable, but I was consumed by a desperate need for him to touch me, to fill the aching void inside me.
I was lost to him, a willing captive to the fire he'd ignited in my soul. And as his fingers finally found their way to the slick heat of my core, I knew that there would be no turning back, no stopping this now. I could think about what it might mean later.
The world around us blurred into nothingness as Merrick's mouth continued to move on mine with a ruthlessness that left me clinging to him, helpless against the tide of desire rising within me. The sensation of his fingers playing over the taut peak of my breast drew a needy moan from my throat. I bowed my spine, pleading for more of the exquisite sensations he stirred deep inside.
His lips left mine, and he trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of my throat. I tipped my head back, granting him full access, my fingers tangling in his hair as he worshiped my body with expertise.
Cool air teased over my exposed thighs as Merrick stroked through my wetness. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I bucked my hips, seeking the friction only he could provide.
“So responsive,” Merrick said with a lift of his mouth that smoothed to thin satisfaction. “You're everything I dreamed you would be, Wildfire.”
His fingers delved deeper between my thighs, parting me with a gentleness that countered the fierceness of his kisses.
“Wet,” he growled, the sound causing a fresh gush of moisture to coat his fingers. “Wet for me, are you, my pretty little bride? I love it.”
His words sent a shiver through me, and I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I did in response to his question or the way his fingers glided across my clit.
“You're going to come for me, aren't you, my good girl?” he asked, his voice thick with desire. He slid his other hand underneath my gown, past my belly, and when he rolled my nipple, he drove me closer to the brink.
Before I could form a coherent response, his fingers began to move between my legs, stroking and circling the bundle of nerves at my center with a skill that left me panting and writhing in his lap. Each touch fanned my flames higher, the pressure building within me until I swore I’d shatter into a thousand pieces.
He drove his fingers deep, leaving his thumb to move across my clit. I shamelessly rode him, humping against him while the carriage climbed higher and higher, approaching the castle.
I was too far gone to stop, but I wanted—needed—more. I scrambled my fingers at the fastening to his pants, eager to release him so I could impale myself on his shaft.
He grinned and shook his head. “Not yet. This is for you. Take what I offer. Come for me.”
My body trembled on the edge of release, my every muscle drawn tight as I teetered. I jolted up and down, driving his fingers deeper while he rolled my nipple and flicked his thumb across my clit.
“Let go, Wildfire,” he said, his voice hissing through me like a live wire. “I've got you.”
With those words, the dam inside me broke. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, obliterating all thought, all awareness of anything beyond the mind-numbing bliss consuming me. I cried out, my fingers clutching his shoulders as I rode out the storm he'd unleashed within me.
He nipped my neck. “Yes, like that. I can’t wait to feel you explode around my cock. Like this, Wildfire. It’s going to be like this only better.”
I continued to move against him, but my pace had turned languid, slowing until I came to a stop, my head drooping and my body near collapse. I fell against his chest, limp and sated.
He tugged his fingers from my core and licked them before his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. His soft, soothing kisses peppered along my jawline and up to my temple.
The world seemed to right itself, and I realized with a start that we’d left the woods and were nearing the front of the castle.
Merrick gently disentangled himself from me, tugging my skirt down to give me some achingly silly sense of propriety. His gaze lingered on my flushed face with a warmth that made my heart flutter more than it should.
“Welcome home, my queen.” His voice growled with a quiet pride that tugged at something deep inside me.
I swallowed hard, but nothing was going to take me back to the person I’d been when I boarded the ship at Lydel. I’d come to Evergorne as a willing bride, though only by my need to serve in duty and honor. That woman was gone. Something had shifted inside me, a whirlwind of change that I was only beginning to understand. It centered around this man who leaned forward to shield my body from view with his own.
The carriage came to a stop, and I gaped at the enormous castle.
A group of people left the front entrance and strode down the stairs to the first of many stone platforms leading to the cobblestone driveway where our carriage waited.
“Merrick. Son,” a woman said in a haughty tone as I hastily made sure my nipples weren’t trying to gouge their way through my bodice and that my gown skimmed demurely around my ankles. Farris jumping into the carriage gave me something to do. I secured his leash and collar.
Merrick leaped to the ground and turned, holding his hand out to me. His eyes gleamed with pure satisfaction, and why not? He’d just proven he could make me explode in his arms.
A man dressed in a starched red tunic and matching pants, with a silver braid strumming across his shoulders waited at the base of the steps, his gaze trained on the castle.
The castle loomed in front of us, many stories spreading out in both directions. Windows and towers at the top could pierce the stars at night. Its gleaming silver walls marbled with black streaks caught the sun and made it shimmer like a mirage. Back on the ship, it had appeared beautiful, yes. A touch cute and quaint, but that was while seeing it at a distance. This monstrosity looked more like a monument to power than a home.
Broad steps, hewn from the same marble as the rest of the structure, swept up a few levels to a pair of massive wooden doors that stood open, welcoming us into the heart of Evergorne Court. Or daring me to believe I had any right to claim this place as my own.
At the top of the first landing, a cluster of servants dressed in red tunics with silver trim like the man still discretely standing at the bottom of the steps, hovered around Merrick's mother. She had his same deep brown hair, though gray peppered her temples. Her sharp eyes and bearing shouted her royal status, and her upswept, elaborately arranged hair spoke of a woman who was used to being pampered. Her gown, a rich tapestry of deep blue struck through with silver, flowed around her body, emphasizing her slender figure and commanding presence. This woman may have willingly relinquished her role in the kingdom, but I suspected she still commanded it as if the crown remained on her head.
Merrick cradled Farris in his arms and gently set the nyxin on the ground. Farris sat, taking in the lush, colorful gardens artfully placed on the broad front lawn and lining the drive. With a smile that held more than a hint of masculine satisfaction, Merrick extended his hand to me, his fingers brushing against mine in a promise of what was to come.
Me, most likely.
As he helped me from the carriage, his smoldering gaze remained on me, caressing my skin and igniting the embers he'd skillfully stoked already. Possessiveness came through his casual-appearing touch.
“You will shine here, Reyla,” he said, his voice low and for only me. The pride in his tone was unmistakable, and I couldn't decide if I was dismayed about the fact that we’d almost given everyone a very public display of me coming or by way he was making it frightfully clear that I belonged only to him.
The fabric of my gown bunched beneath my fingers as I attempted to smooth out the wrinkles, but it was a lost cause. I couldn't shake the worry that a damp patch marred the back of the gown, evidence of the passion Merrick had lit inside me in the carriage.
A hint of a smile played on his lips as he continued to study my face and frame. “I'll arrange for staff to care for Farris. They'll take him for walks and see to his needs. There's no need for wood chips in your suite.”
Relief washed over me as I tightened my grip on Farris’s leash. I hadn't been looking forward to explaining to the castle staff why I needed a pile of chips delivered to my room each day.
With a gentle squeeze of my hand, Merrick led me up toward his mother with Farris trotting at my side. His mother had remained at the top of the grand staircase, her stern expression doing little to hide the curiosity sparking in her eyes as she took in the sight of us together. I sensed I was being sized up, judged for my worthiness to stand by her son's side as his queen.
The climb seemed to take an eternity, each step bringing me closer to the woman who’d once held the position that was now mine. As we reached the landing, Merrick's mother offered a curt nod, her gaze flicking briefly to our joined hands before lifting to meet mine.
“Mother,” Merrick said, his voice carrying a note of affection that contrasted sharply with the tension in the air. “This is Reyla, your new queen.” His hand slid around my back. “My mother is Erisandra.”
Erisandra's cool gaze swept over me, from the top of my disheveled hair to the hem of my slightly wrinkled gown. I could almost hear the silent judgment in her appraisal. I forced a polite smile, determined not to let her see how much her scrutiny unnerved me.
“She's supposed to be fae.” Erisandra’s voice held a note of disdain.
“Mother,” Merrick chided, sounding both shocked and dismayed by her behavior.
Erisandra did nothing to hide her sneer. “She looks lesser to me.” One of the women in her entourage tittered, but I didn't seek them with my gaze. That, I kept trained on this woman I must find a way to get along with and soon. Her words stung, but I was no stranger to doubt and underestimation. I’d faced bigger challenges than a mother-in- law's scorn, and I would not let her needle me into snarling.
“I’m a daughter of Weldsbane and Bledmire Court.” I kept my voice steady despite my urge to slink behind Merrick.
Erisandra's eyes widened, and a murmur rippled through the gathered women, their eyes darting between me and the queen mother.
“Bledmire?” she echoed, her hand fluttering to her chest. “I've heard of their king.”
“Dead king, if you please.” While I’d never claim Ivenrail as my own, I'd happily let them fear that I was as ruthless as the former king.
Erisandra’s lips pursed before smoothing, and another, irritating titter erupted from one of her ladies, though it was quickly cut off. “Two courts. Inbreeding?”
No more than this place, from what I’d heard, but I was too polite to mention it.
“Ivenrail enjoyed the ladies.” I wasn't going to tell her anything more than that.
“I see.” Erisandra regarded me for a long, tense moment before giving a noncommittal nod. “We shall see what comes of you, Reyla of Bledmire.”
“I prefer to be claimed by Weldsbane.”
She sniffed, her attention falling on Farris who sat by my side, taking everything in with eager eyes, his tongue lolling. “What is that thing?”
“This is Farris, my pet.” I patted the top of his head. “I love this nyxin very much.” Touch him with ill intent and face my wrath, in other words .
Her mouth thinned. “I see.” With a huff, she stepped forward to embrace Merrick, kissing each of his cheeks. Her tone smoothed, and she gushed. “So wonderful to see you again, dear son. Your journey went well?”
“Everything went very well, Mother.” From his easy smile and the sunshine in his eyes, I could tell he adored her. “As Reyla mentioned, we took care of the Bledmire problem. Evergorne is once more secure, and not only that, but we also made a new ally in Lydel.”
“The cursed court,” she minced out. “The one covered with thorns.”
“The thorns are gone now, and the curse is broken,” I said sweetly. “The High Lady of Lydel handled that.”
I could tell her that Tempest and I were closer than sisters, that if this haughty woman misbehaved, my friend would stab her. Or ask her dragon to loom over the queen mother with smoke coiling from his nostrils. But I needed to make this work. This was my new home, and I would not let her ruin it for me.
There may be no way to please her. Except through Merrick, perhaps. He cared for his mother, and she made it plain she felt the same about him.
I could work with that.
Surely a mother’s love would soon extend to her new daughter?