Chapter 39 All That Was Given #2
"Let them be scandalized." His mouth found the spot where my pulse fluttered wildly. "Let them wonder what sounds their perfect sovereign makes when she comes."
"Zydar," I breathed, any pretense of control finally crumbling.
"That," he murmured against my skin, "is exactly what I want to hear."
He released my wrists, and I immediately buried my hands in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and desperation. Four months of this, and I still could not get enough. Still needed him like air.
His hand slid down my body, cupping between my legs, and I gasped into his mouth.
"Already so wet for me," he said, his voice rough with approval. "My perfect little dove."
I rocked against his hand, shameless in my need. "Please."
"Please what?" His fingers circled but did not enter, teasing. "Use your words."
"Touch me. Fill me. I do not care, just do something."
He laughed, low and wicked. "So impatient. Have I taught you nothing about patience?"
"You have taught me that I hate patience when it comes to you."
"Fair enough." He slid two fingers inside me without warning, and I cried out. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes," I breathed, my hips moving against his hand. "More."
"Greedy thing." But he added a third finger, stretching me, his thumb finding my clit with practiced ease. "You take me so well. Like you were made for this."
I was already close, wound too tight from weeks of stress and responsibility and grief that I'd been carrying alone until I fell into this bed each night. Here, with him, I could finally let go. Could finally stop being the High Sovereign and just be Mira.
"Not yet," he said, sensing how close I was. He withdrew his hand, and I made a sound of protest that would have embarrassed me if I cared about dignity right now.
"I want you inside me," I told him, reaching for his cock. He was hard and heavy in my hand, and the sound he made when I stroked him was pure satisfaction. "Now, Zydar."
"So demanding." He positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against me. "What happened to my sweet little dove?"
"She learned from the best." I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. "Now are you going to fuck me, or do I need to find someone who will?"
His eyes flashed dangerously. "Those words will get you punished."
He slammed into me in one brutal thrust that stole my breath. I loved it. Loved the way he filled me completely, loved the slight burn of the stretch, loved how he never held back with me anymore.
"This what you wanted?" he growled, pulling out and driving back in just as hard. "To be fucked like you belong to me?"
"I do belong to you," I gasped. "And you belong to me."
Something shifted in his expression, softening even as his movements remained rough. "Yes," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Always."
He set a punishing pace, and I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies moving together like we had been doing this for centuries instead of months. Every time felt new and familiar all at once, like coming home to a place I had never known I was searching for.
We'd switched positions so I was straddling him. I loved looking down at him, his dark hair spilling across the white pillows, his red eyes burning into mine.
And gods, the look on his face. Like I was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, like every word I spoke was a revelation.
It was addicting. Terrifying. Exhilarating.
"Guide me," I said softly.
His hands found my hips, warm and possessive. "Take what you need, little dove. Take everything."
I positioned myself above him, feeling the head of his cock press against my entrance.
The golden light that lived beneath my skin began to glow, responding to my desire, to the connection between us.
It always did this now, ever since I'd ascended.
As if my body could not contain the power when I felt things too intensely.
I sank down onto him slowly, savoring every inch. The stretch was perfect, the fullness complete. His fingers tightened on my hips hard enough to bruise, and electricity sparked where his skin touched mine.
"Mira," he breathed, his voice strained. "You are so beautiful like this."
I began to move, rising and falling in a rhythm that made us both gasp. The light beneath my skin grew brighter with each movement, casting golden shadows across the room. His own power answered mine, lightning crackling along his arms, his chest, dancing across his skin.
"Faster," he commanded, his voice taking on that dark edge I loved. "Show me what a queen looks like when she takes her pleasure."
I obeyed, moving faster, harder, chasing the building pressure low in my belly. My hair lifted around me as if caught in an invisible wind, glowing strands floating like spun gold. Power poured off me in waves, making the windows rattle, making the very air hum.
Zydar sat up, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest. His wings burst free, spreading wide before curling around us both, creating a cocoon of shadow and light. Inside this private world, our magic intensified, feeding off each other, building toward something explosive.
"I can feel your power," he growled against my throat. "You're close, aren't you?"
"So close." I raked my nails down his back, making him shudder.
His hand found my throat, not squeezing but holding, claiming. The dominance in that gesture sent heat spiraling through me.
"Do you want to come, little dove?"
He licked up the side of my neck, biting the place where the tendon met my shoulder. My whole body jerked, but his grip held me in place.
"Yes," I said. "Please."
His power surged, blue lightning flowing from his hand into my body.
It did not hurt. Instead, it amplified everything.
Every nerve ending came alive, every sensation magnified tenfold.
I cried out, my own power responding in kind.
Golden light poured from my skin into his, and I felt the exact moment it reached his heart.
Felt his pleasure as if it were my own, his desire, his overwhelming love for me.
All I could see were his eyes, all I could hear were his ragged breaths. Nothing else existed beyond this moment, this room, this man who had saved me as many times as I had saved him.
He released my throat and gripped my hips again, taking control. He lifted me easily, his strength making me weightless, and slammed me back down onto his cock. I gasped, my head falling back, hands gripping his shoulders to steady myself.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I did. He never looked more like a warrior than when his power filled him like this, when his eyes burned red and his wings spread wide. I lifted my hand, pressing my palm flat against his chest where his heartbeat thundered beneath my touch.
"Can you feel it?" he whispered. "How much I love you?"
"I can," I breathed. Because I could. I could feel it in the warmth of his touch, the fierce protectiveness in his gaze, the way he'd surrendered himself to me completely.
And when my own power bloomed under his skin, filling him with golden fire, I could see it, could see his entire history played out before me in a glowing map of scars and sacrifices and sorrow and joy. "Gods, I can see you. All of you."
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck as emotion hit me like a physical force. "I love you, Zydar. Every part of you."
"Every part of me is yours." He stroked my hair, soothing, anchoring. "Yours alone, for as long as you will have me."