Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Nova
The evening of my coronation came and went without incident, save for a few guests who overindulged and had to be shown the door.
It was nearing midnight when I finally escaped the celebrations myself.
The party continued on without me, which I didn’t mind at all; it was nice to hear the sounds of genuine joy echoing across the grounds.
It sounded like the normal revelry of a normal palace, with no hint of all the catastrophic possibilities pressing in.
I tried to savor the scene while making my exit, gazing back one last time at the crowded ballroom, breathing in the warmth and laughter, before I slipped away with Aleks and a small company of guards escorting me.
Aveline had been informed I was retiring to my room, and she had taken the initiative to prepare accordingly.
We stepped into the space to find a fire already roaring in the hearth; clean, comfortable clothing laid across the bed; and trays of food and drink set on the table near the window.
The latter was especially welcome, as I suddenly realized I’d been too busy to eat anything all evening.
A bath had been drawn as well, the scent of lavender and rose oils wafting into the bedroom and tempting me toward the steaming water.
I sighed happily as I took it all in. “Remind me to tell Aveline how much I love her.”
“I’ll add writing a thank you card to your to-do list,” Aleks said, taking the coat from my shoulders—his own coat, which he’d draped on me earlier—and hanging it on the hook by the door.
My thoughts briefly stumbled over that extensive to-do list, making my body tense.
It made me all the more eager to melt into that hot bath and forget about everything for a while.
I grabbed a few bites of food to sustain me, but then wasted no time shedding my crown and the heavy coronation gown and slipping into the water.
Aleks declined my invitation to join. He insisted on patrolling my room and the hall outside, instead, and then speaking at length to the guards on duty.
He returned some time later, his expression troubled.
Distant. There had been nothing unusual reported by the guards, but that had obviously done nothing to settle his nerves.
He moved between my bedroom and the bath in a sort of trance, bringing me a glass of champagne at one point, but otherwise keeping to himself.
I sipped the fizzy liquid as I watched him, trying and failing to hear his troubled thoughts. Our mental bond had been entirely too short-lived; how could we get it back?
After downing the rest of the glass in a few quick gulps, I set it aside and sank lower into the water. “You’re making it difficult to relax.”
“Sorry.” He stopped his pacing and leaned against the door of the linen closet, folding his arms across his chest. He remained lost in thought for another moment before he finally met my eyes as he said, “It’s been a long night, hasn’t it?”
I extended a sudsy hand toward him. “Come join me.”
His gaze trailed over the tub, lingering on the places where the bubbles were thinning out, just barely obscuring my body. But he kept still.
Quietly, I said, “We’re safe for the moment, aren’t we?”
He didn’t reply.
I pulled my hand back into the water, swirling the bubbles and floating rose petals around. “It’s been hours with no sightings or disturbances of any kind. My room is surrounded by guards and wards alike. I’m tired, Aleks. I just need to relax. And so do you.”
He shook his head. “The way that figure disappeared so easily in the garden is still haunting me. Just knowing they might find a way to break through all of our defenses…”
I picked up a rose petal, twisting it between my fingers. “Well, you know how I feel about my bath time being interrupted. If they do manage to manifest in here and ruin it, then the gods themselves won’t be able to save them from the wrath that I will rain down upon them.”
This coaxed a small smile onto his troubled face.
“I’m serious.”
“Serious,” he repeated, chuckling, “about your naked, bubbly, wrath?”
“Can you think of anything more terrifying?”
He hesitated, but then sauntered closer, sitting down on the stool beside the tub. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“Exactly. Now, get in here or you’ll be subject to that naked wrath yourself.”
He considered me for a long moment, rolling up his sleeves and trailing his fingers through the water, grazing them along my hip and thigh. Then he braced a hand on either side of the tub and leaned in close, his lips brushing against mine as he said, “I could think of worse ways to go.”
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him into a proper kiss. It took an enormous amount of willpower to stop myself from pulling the rest of him into the tub, clothes and all.
“Relentless,” he said under his breath, his eyes shining with a combination of lust and amusement as he drew back and started to unbutton his shirt.
“A queen must be tireless in her duties,” I countered.
“You’ve got that part of the job down, no doubt.” He shrugged out of the shirt, and the rest of his clothing swiftly followed, ending up in a neat pile on the floor. “Your enemies will never out-stubborn you,” he said, slipping into the water so we were facing one another.
I slid toward him, pressing myself between his legs, the tingling effects of the champagne making me bolder. “I’m glad you’ve finally learned when to admit defeat.”
He kept one arm on the rim of the tub and wrapped the other around my waist, dragging me flush against his hard body. “This doesn’t really feel like defeat.” His lips found mine again, his soft kisses soon giving way to deeper, hungrier ones. “Feels more like I’ve won you.”
“Really?” I rolled my hips against him, a teasing motion that made his fingers dig more possessively into my side. “You have me right where you want me, do you?”
“Not exactly.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he flipped me around, cupping a hand between my legs and pulling my back against his chest. His other hand reached around to grab one of my breasts, his arm pressing in and pinning me to him as he pinched and tugged at its satiny tip.
“That’s better,” he mumbled, the words falling hot against my ear. “Now: Relax.”
My pulse was far from relaxed, but I closed my eyes and sank completely against him, surrendering as his hands worked their magic, the one between my legs massaging in gentle circles while the other continued to play with my breasts.
I moaned softly, and his touch grew quicker. Rougher. He kissed a slow, seductive trail along the curve of my shoulder, up along my neck. As his teeth found my earlobe and nipped, his name escaped me in a gasp. He responded by slipping one finger inside me, then another.
It was pure bliss—the combination of his sure hands and the warm water lapping against my body. Of my heart pounding in time with his. Of his firm muscles against my skin that had been made softer and silkier by the oils in the water.
And when that water began to grow cold, he moved smoothly from the tub, helping me out alongside him, his hands never straying far from my body.
He dried every inch of my damp skin with slow, attentive strokes, following the soft brush of the towel with tantalizing touches that made me forget about any chill my nakedness might have brought on.
I watched us in the mirror above the sink, just as I’d watched him when he was helping me into my coronation dress; the confident way he kissed and caressed every inch of my body was mesmerizing.
He caught me staring, and his mouth pulled into a smirk. “You like watching what I’m doing to you, don’t you?”
Instead of answering with words, I leaned back against him just as I’d done before, eager for his lips to keep staking their claim on me. He watched me for a moment, smiling at the impatient way I rubbed myself against him, then he took my hand and led me to that mirror we’d used earlier.
It was taller, reaching all the way to the floor, fully exposing every act we committed before it.
We resumed our session from the bathroom—him behind me, my body curving against him, desperately trying to eliminate any space between us.
He smoothed a hand over my stomach and then went lower, plunging two fingers inside of me once more.
As he slid them in and out, I felt my orgasm building, my body losing control and starting to contort wildly, trying to chase the shivers of pleasure winding through it.
But he withdrew his fingers before I could catch any sort of release, his breathing coming in ragged gasps as he kissed the nape of my neck. “Not yet.”
He grabbed a blanket, spreading it on the floor in front of the mirror. Pulling me down and into his lap, he arranged us into a position similar to the one we’d had in the tub.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, his hand tapping encouragingly along my inner thigh.
I started to, only to have him grab them and push them wider himself, his grip digging into the flesh of my thighs as his cock throbbed against my back.
“Now,” he breathed against my neck, “touch yourself for me.”
The words alone were enough to send another shiver of near-release spiraling through me.
Actually doing as he commanded made me dizzy in the best possible way—a heady combination of heat and desire and power.
He might have been the one giving the commands, but there was no question about whether or not I had any power; I could make his breath catch with just a single, purposeful swipe of my fingers.
I could control the pounding of his heart with only a deliberate look at his reflection, locking my eyes on him as I pleasured myself.