Chapter 22 #3
“Not yet,” I say, running my hands over her curves, wanting to touch her everywhere at once, to lick and bite and kiss every inch of her.
“Not quite yet, love. But one day soon…” I slide my fingers upward, spreading the moisture left behind by my tongue and pressing forward ever so slightly.
She gasps again, stiffening, but relaxes a moment later, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Mmmm,” I rumble, “like that, do we?”
“Again,” she rasps, half plea, half command. Her entire body is trembling, sweat beading down her back, and I know she wants so badly to come. So, again, I run my fingers around that sensitive spot and then apply pressure, leaning in to run my tongue along her pussy at the same time.
“Oh fuckkkkk,” she moans, legs shaking. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”
So I don’t. I gently pump just the tip of my finger while I lick and suck and flick my tongue along her folds and over her clit and all too soon, she makes that sound that’s become my favorite in the world.
She’s close. Almost there. I don’t dare stop, pressing harder and flicking my tongue faster, faster…
She screams as she comes, her honey drenching my tongue. I groan and set in, taking every last drop, licking in a frenzy. Her body shudders, her legs trembling, but I keep her upright. I finally stop, needing her more than I’ve ever needed anything.
“Don’t move,” I growl as I stand and rip the laces of my leathers open, pulling out my throbbing cock. I kick her legs even further apart and clamp a hand on one hip, and with the other, guide the head to her entrance, dripping and ready for me.
“Fuck me, Killian. Ah Makers, fuck me, please.”
I never wanted to rule. I took up my father’s crown to help my people—whether born here or brought here—but I never would have chosen this if I’d had a true choice.
But here, seconds away from fucking my woman, the one sent to me by the Makers themselves, on my throne, overlooking my kingdom…
well, it’s the first time I’ve ever truly felt like a king.
“As my queen commands,” I rasp and glide my hips forward, sending my cock so deep inside her, her pussy wet and hot and welcoming, squeezing me like a fist. “Fuck me,” I bite out through gritted teeth.
I wrap the length of her hair around my fist and use my grip to tug her head backwards, her back curving. “Hold. On. Tight.”
She gasps but I see her tighten her grip on the armrests, ready.
I shift back before slamming my hips forward again, taking her hard and fast, an animal need clawing inside my chest. Over and over, I pound into her, her screams of pleasure hitting me like whips of bliss. I need more. I’ll never get enough.
“Killian,” she cries. “Harder.” Makers, this woman…
I shift my grip from her hair to her shoulder, yanking her backwards as I slam forward, again and again. Pounding. Claiming.
“Right…there…going to…”
She screams as her climax rips through her, her walls pulsing around me, greedy and demanding. I feel the base of my spine tighten, my own release climbing, climbing, climbing…
“Thea!” I bellow as I come so hard my legs shake and I would swear the walls around us shudder.
I rock my hips once, twice more, before I can barely stay upright.
I lean down, resting my chest over Thea’s back, holding her tight and kissing her shoulder, her throat, her sweat-soaked temple.
I shift, maneuvering to slide into the throne and pulling her into my lap.
She rests her cheek against my chest and I cradle her body to mine, running my fingers through her hair and trying to come back down from the stars I surely touched moments ago.
“That…was…adequate…Your Majesty,” she pants, still breathing hard, and I throw my head back and laugh.
I feel her own echoing laugh, her lithe body shaking against my chest. I run my hand through my hair, trying to slow my heart.
We sit there, tangled up together on my throne for what could be hours or an eternity, before she bolts up right, staring at me with wide, green eyes. I frown.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“You…you kneel for me.”
“And?”
“You’re a king, Killian.” She shakes her head, and runs her hands through her tangled hair, looking around the room as if only now realizing where we are. “You shouldn’t—”
I grip her chin to cut her off, and gently but firmly guide her face back to mine, waiting until she meets my gaze to speak.
“I will always kneel for you, Thea. You are my queen, whether you ever officially want the title or not—and that will be entirely up to you. I was forced to wear this crown, but I would never ask that of you if it’s not what you want—but I will always, always kneel for you.”
She reaches out and settles her palm against my cheek, searching my eyes, her own brimming with tears.
“I love you, Killian.”
My eyes slide closed and I lean into her touch, my heart cracking in the best possible way. I open them again and press my lips to hers. Soft and savoring this time.
“And I, you, Thea.”
She toys with the hair at my nape, smiling softly before sighing.
“So, when do we start?” she asks and my brow furrows.
“Start…?”
She holds my gaze and seems to steel herself.
“When do we start preparing for war?”