EPILOGUE Pt. 2
~ YILAN ~
I stood next to the bed, with my hand on my mate’s shoulder, watching him teach our son—tucked into bed, but crying because he’d missed out on his special horse ride today—how to be a man. It made my thighs tremble.
“…all the good things that come with being a prince—like special horses, and big parties—you can only enjoy those if you take your responsibilities seriously as well.”
I’d always struggled with the way Melek expressed expectations to Mael, like he was already an adult. But there was no doubt who our son listened to most intently.
“I really wanted the pony,” Mael whimpered. He turned to rub his tearstained face on the pillow.
“I wanted to take you. But, if you choose to be rude—to your mother, and to your friend—then you can’t have a pony. Not yet. You aren’t responsible enough.”
“She’s not my friend,” Mael said sullenly, punching the bedquilt. “She’s—”
Melek gave a very low, very quiet growl, and our son cut off like someone shot an arrow at him. He swallowed, then turned his beautiful blue-green eyes up to his father. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Good man,” Melek said. “Now, I know it’s hard.
But this is the lesson for today: If you want to lead, and make decisions, and wear a crown one day, it’s your job today to be an example to those around you.
Even when people are annoying.” Mael’s frown deepened, but he didn’t grow defiant.
Then Melek smirked, and whispered, “How do you think I stayed with your mother all these years?”
My discipline to my husband was swift, and sharp, and straight to his ear.
Melek gave a mock roar of rage. Mael giggled.
I winked at him over Melek’s shoulder. “Mael, it’s normal to think girls are annoying for now. You don’t have to be friends. However, the reason you should be kind is because you’re a prince. A prince’s job is to get ready to be king—and kings aren’t allowed to be mean.”
“Except with their mates?” Mael asked guilelessly.
Melek and I looked at each other, frowning. “Mael, Daddy isn’t mean to me. He didn’t mean it that he found me annoying—and I was only pretend hitting his ear.” Melek grunted, but I plowed on. “We’re just joking, that’s all.”
Mael frowned. “But he roars a lot.”
What in the world? I hadn’t seen Melek lose his temper in months. “Mael, Daddy doesn’t—”
“That’s, uh, a different kind of roaring, son,” Melek said suddenly, scratching the back of his neck. I went very still.
“No, it’s not. I hear you. You’re angry at Mama almost every night!”
Oh dear Lord.
My cheeks went hot, and I froze.
Melek rolled his lips like he was trying not to laugh. “Son, there’s special kinds of… er, roars, between mates. When you find your mate, you’ll roar too. But that will be a long time from now and… and something you’ll enjoy a lot,” he ended abruptly.
I quivered. To make matters worse, he’d dropped his hand down behind me and slipped fingers under my skirt, trailing them back up my leg where Mael couldn’t see.
Mael brightened. “So, when I get older, I can roar at Adiya?”
“No!” I said quickly.
At the same time Melek chuckled. “If you want to, yes, you can.”
I wanted to smack him again. “If you do, you’d have to, er, earn the right, Mael.
You never, um, roar at a woman, unless she wants you to.
You can’t just do it whenever you want,” I ended desperately, asking myself how the hell I’d gotten into this conversation with my son, when he wasn’t even five?
Mael went sullen again and slumped back on his pillow. “It’s not fun if you need permission. Girls never say yes to fun things when you ask,” he muttered, then sighed as if the weight of the world rested on his tiny shoulders. “That’s too bad. Roaring always makes me feel better.”
“Me too, Son,” Melek said seriously.
I pinched the place on his ribs that he was ticklish and he jumped, but I covered for him by leaning past him to tuck Mael back in tightly and kiss him on the forehead. “Sleep well, my prince. Tomorrow is a new day.”
“Sleep well, Queen Mama,” he whispered back in our little tradition since he’d been very small, and was confused by others calling me a title.
Melek waited for me to walk away, then leaned over to kiss Mael and murmur something else in his ear, before following me out.
As we crossed the sitting room, where his nanny knitted in the corner, I smiled and prayed she didn’t notice the heat in my cheeks.
It wasn’t until we’d closed the door into our own chamber, that Melek muttered, “Clearly, I need to stop roaring at night while he’s still awake.”
“Melek, if he can hear you, the staff must… oh dear,” I said, laughing, hands on my hot cheeks.
“And here I was with plans for you tonight,” Melek said, slipping his arms around me and pulling me closer, staring down at me through hooded eyes and a wicked smile.
“Plans?”
“Plans.”
“Plans?” I asked, a little surprised. “You just mean mating, right?”
His face puckered. “Is that not enough?”
I laughed, and leaned up on my toes to kiss him. “You’re always enough. You’re more than enough.”
“Excellent,” he said, nibbling at my lip, then fussing at the button of my skirt waistband, his eyes twinkling. “Though, I suppose your favorite wine and chocolates at the hot pools might also be a bit of a draw?”
I smiled. “I mean… only if you’re going to roar.”
“I hope so,” he muttered, tugging off his own shirt, then helping me with mine. “Apparently I’ll only be able to roar when we leave the palace, though. If these walls aren’t thick enough to stop him hearing, then we’re screwed.”
“I thought the screwing was the problem?”
When he tried to answer, I hooked my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss—then immediately pushed him backwards so he stumbled and dropped into the large chair in our bedchamber.
He was shocked, but also pleased. His brows high as he watched me walk towards him. “I thought you wanted to go to the pools.”
“I do,” I whispered as I crawled into his lap. “However, first I want to tell you what an amazing king you are—and an even better father,” I said, sliding up his chest and widening my knees to straddle his lap.
Melek’s eyes went dark, his pupils dilating as he reached for my breasts with both hands.
“A good father, hmmm?”
“The best,” I sighed and arched my back as he leaned forward, kneading my breasts, pressing them up and close, then opening the space between his thumb and forefinger to lay his mouth on my nipple.
When he sucked, I made a whimper of my own.
Melek growled, then lifted his head to kiss me.
“Are you certain?” he rumbled a moment later against my lips, as our kisses grew heated. “I can’t roar here, remember?”
I couldn’t answer immediately because he sucked my tongue.
“I like watching you restrain yourself,” I breathed when I could, then reached between us to stroke him, smiling when his head dropped back and his hands clapped to my hips, holding me in place.
I bit my lip, watching him twitch and grunt as I touched him, his eyes raking down my body—my breasts, that were no longer so pert or full, but had nourished a child, and my waist, which was thicker, though my training, as Mael grew older, was returning my strength.
There had been a time, soon after Mael was born, that I’d spent months convinced Melek wouldn’t ever again enjoy my body as he had before our son.
When I’d finally admitted the fear, he’d practically chased me around the palace to prove me wrong.
For a month.
I no longer questioned his desire for me, even as my body—and our lives—changed. But sometimes it was nice to remind myself that I could still make him break that self-discipline that had only grown stronger over the years.
I stroked him a little harder, then started to back off him, to kneel between his knees.
Melek grabbed me and pulled me back up, shaking his head. “No, I want you here, where I can touch you.”
“But—”
He grasped my hips and pulled me forward hard, pinning my hand on him between us, and staring into my eyes. “I said, no.”
I shivered with delight, then pulled my hands up to his hair and twined my fingers in his warrior’s length. “Don’t you remember? The day you were crowned?” I whispered, leaning down to kiss along his jaw, then down his neck. “I had you right here that night.”
“I had you,” he muttered, tipping my chin back up, and forcing me to meet his eyes again. “Yes, I remember. I also remember there was something I wanted that night which I’ve never taken.”
That stopped me. I tipped my head, frowning thoughtfully, mentally scrambling to see if I could remember. But I was stumped.
Then he pulled my head down, cupped his hand at the back of my neck, and rasped in my ear, “You, bent over this chair, and losing your mind.”
A thrill of heat and need sparkled through me. “I’m pretty sure that’s going to make you roar, Melek.”
“So be it. A king’s duty to his queen, outweighs even his son’s disapproval.”
“The servants—”
“Apparently the servants have been listening for years without a word, so that’s on them.”
Then he pulled my chin down and kissed me hard. And when he had me breathless, and my hips starting to roll, he gripped me at the waist and lifted me, turning me around in his lap. Then, as I straddled him again, he planted a hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward.
I almost fell to the floor, and gave a little yelp, grasping for the edge of the seat between his knees to brace myself, but Melek chuckled.
“Relax, I’ve got you.” He circled my waist with one arm, a steel bar to keep me from falling, then lifted me slightly and positioned himself. “I’ve got you,” he repeated in a ragged breath. “I’ve got all of you.”
Then he pulled me down onto him, and we both groaned as he took me in one, long slide.
His free hand came forward to cup under my chin and pull me back up, so I sat back against his chest and took him deeper, groaning again.
Then he began to move.