Chapter 15
F or the next few hours, we explored each other with the hunger of lovers separated too long, yet with the care of those who knew the fragility of second chances.
Menelaus guided me into positions that kept me from feeling trapped—always ensuring I had space to move, to breathe, to maintain my sense of control. His consideration only heightened my desire for him.
Every touch, every kiss, every thrust was an act of joyous reclamation.
After I had caught my breath, Menelaus rolled us to our sides, facing each other.
He hooked my leg over his hip and entered me again with a slow, deliberate thrust that made me gasp. In this position, we could move together as equals, neither dominating the other.
His mouth found mine in a deep, languid kiss that contrasted with the increasingly urgent movement of our hips.
When that position left us both wanting more, he guided me onto my hands and knees.
I felt a moment of hesitation as the healers had warned this might trigger an attack, but I felt powerful rather than vulnerable. The angle allowed him to reach impossibly deep inside me, hitting places that made me cry out with pleasure.
His large hands caressed my back, my hips, my breasts as he moved within me, setting a pace that was neither too gentle nor too rough. I pushed back against him, taking control of my pleasure even as he filled me so completely.
My next climax built more slowly but crashed over me with stunning intensity, leaving me trembling and gasping his name.
As my breathing steadied, a new desire formed within me. I turned to face him, guiding him until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. His erection still stood proud and unquenched, glistening with evidence of my arousal.
“There’s something else I want to try,” I said, my voice husky with desire as I kneeled between his thighs. “Something I couldn’t do before.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by a flash of concern. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I insisted, running my hands up his powerful thighs. “I’ve dreamed of tasting you again.”
During my captivity, Duke Beltrán had used this act to humiliate and hurt me. But now, kneeling before Menelaus—my choice, my desire—I felt only anticipation.
Menelaus watched me with heated eyes as I wrapped my hand around his thickness. There was no fear, only a thrill of excitement as I leaned forward to taste him.
The first touch of my tongue against him drew a sharp intake of breath. I looked up, meeting his gaze as I traced the prominent vein along the underside of his shaft. The taste was familiar yet new—salt and musk and something uniquely him. I explored him slowly, relearning what pleased him most.
When I took the broad head into my mouth, Menelaus groaned, his fingers tangling gently in my hair. “Gods, Jonquil,” he rasped. “Your mouth… it’s perfect.”
Encouraged by his response, I took him deeper, using my hand to stroke what wouldn’t fit in my mouth. I fell into a rhythm, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked him, swirling my tongue around the sensitive head when I pulled back.
Menelaus was vocal in his pleasure, praising me with broken words and guttural sounds that sent thrills of satisfaction through me. This was power of a different sort—bringing my love to the edge of his control with nothing but my mouth and hands.
“Enough,” he growled eventually, gently pulling me off him. “Any more and this will end too soon.”
He stood, bringing me to my feet with him. His kiss was fierce, possessive, as if he could taste his own need on my lips. When he lifted me, I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist.
“I want to fuck you against the wall,” he said, his crude words sending a fresh surge of heat between my thighs. “Would that be all right?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yes. Please.”
He carried me across the chamber, his erection pressing insistently against my core with each step. When my back met the cool stone wall, I shivered with anticipation. Menelaus supported my weight with one arm while positioning himself with the other.
The first thrust drove him deep inside me, making us both cry out. The angle was exquisite, allowing him to penetrate me fully while my weight drove me down onto him.
“Hold on to me,” he commanded, and I locked my arms around his neck as he moved.
Gone was the careful restraint he’d shown earlier. Now he took me with all the primal force of his Dragon nature, each thrust driving the breath from my lungs.
Six weeks ago, this raw, animalistic coupling would have sent me into a panic attack. Now, instead, it liberated me. Each powerful thrust of Menelaus’ hips reclaimed another piece of what I’d thought I’d lost forever.
“You feel so good,” Menelaus growled against my neck, his breath hot on my skin. “So tight around me. So perfect.”
I could only respond with incoherent sounds of pleasure as he shifted his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me with unerring accuracy. My nails dug into his shoulders, but they left no marks on his smooth brown skin.
Dragon hide, even in human shape, could resist even the cut of a whip.
“Mine,” he rumbled. “My mate. My love.”
“Yours,” I agreed breathlessly. “Always yours.”
“Come with me,” he urged, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own release. “Together, Jonquil. Let me feel you.”
My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name as my inner walls clamped down around him, drawing his own climax from him with pulsing contractions. Menelaus roared—a sound more Dragon than human—as he emptied himself deep inside me, his powerful body shuddering against mine.
For long moments, we remained joined, panting against each other’s skin as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through us. Eventually, Menelaus carried me back to the bed, still inside me, unwilling to break our connection just yet. He settled us carefully onto the rumpled sheets, cradling me against his chest.
Only when our breathing had steadied did he finally slip from my body, drawing a small whimper of protest from me at the loss. He gathered me close, his large hand stroking my back in soothing circles.
I laughed softly, feeling weightless with satisfaction. “That was perfect.” I pressed a kiss to his hot chest, directly over his heart. “I feel… whole again.”
I felt rather than saw his smile as he pressed his lips to the top of my head. “You never ceased to be whole, my love. You were merely healing. Now we should sleep.” Menelaus pulled the covers over our cooling bodies. “Tomorrow’s flight will be long.”
“Mmm,” I agreed, already drifting toward sleep, pleasantly exhausted in every muscle. “Kappadokia awaits.”
“And beyond that, the rest of our lives.” His arm tightened around me protectively. “No more separations. No more years lost.”
As sleep claimed me, I felt lighter than I had in years. The healing rituals had cleansed my mind, but this night—this communion of bodies and souls—had cleansed my spirit. Duke Beltrán’s malevolent shadow was finally banished from my life.
Tomorrow we would journey to Menelaus’ kingdom. I would meet his people, learn their ways, build a new life alongside my Dragon king. But tonight, in the safety of his arms, I had already come home.