Chapter Thirty-Three #2
His other hand pulled her shirt over her head, freeing her breasts. The warm breeze skittered across her exposed skin, peaking her nipples, the stone abrasive against the skin of her back.
Fiorean’s fingers plunged into her, his thumb tracing delicious circles over her clit.
His other hand burned a delightful path down the curve of her waist, head bent to kiss his way down the slope of her neck.
Fiorean pulled his fingers out of her lazily, his carnivorous gaze darkening as he raised them to his lips. As his tongue darted out to taste her, Aemyra’s stomach clenched.
“I thought I had exaggerated the exquisite taste of you in my imaginings,” he said, stepping back to get a better look at her. “I was wrong.”
With one swift motion, he pulled her breeches down and she stepped out of them eagerly. Aemyra was completely naked in the middle of a stone circle, like an ancient Goddess being reborn.
Fiorean stood back as if to admire her, emerald eyes lingering on the bruises littering her body from the battle, and he lowered himself to the ground. Kneeling before her again, he kissed each and every one, his hands gently encircling her hips as he nuzzled his way between her legs.
Her breath became unsteady as his fingers traced her bare skin.
Fiorean splayed his palms reverently over her lower abdomen and moved to press a deep kiss against the softness. He teased downward until he met her thatch of auburn hair, and Aemyra threw her head back as his tongue parted her in one long stroke.
Yielding to him completely, lost to everything but the touch of his skin and the scent of their arousal, Aemyra let him worship her.
All thoughts gone from her mind save the way his tongue eked pleasure from her very core, Aemyra looked up at the two dragons soaring through the sky above them.
For the first time in a long time, she believed the Daercathians had a future.
Not wanting to touch his back for fear of hurting him, Aemyra clenched her fists in Fiorean’s hair as he worked her eagerly to a climax with his tongue.
Birds scattered from the trees as Aemyra cried out at the pleasure, legs shaking as she struggled to remain standing as Fiorean worked her through the orgasm with two fingers inside her.
When she was panting, breasts heaving in the sunlight, Fiorean finally unclipped his fèileadh and spread the bolt of wool on the ground.
He removed his shirt and Aemyra had to bite her lip against the rush of emotion when she saw the state of his back.
“No, a ghràidh,” he murmured in the Seann, getting to his knees again.
“These marks are as much a penance as they are an offering to my queen. If Alfred had destroyed me, I would have welcomed it. The greatest torture these last months has been to exist without you. If my last act in this life should be to save yours, then I would gladly lay myself at your feet.”
Her husband was all taut muscles and fire-streaked skin as he pressed onto her, the weight of his body settling them both.
“If anyone dares hurt you again, I will end their lives whether by sword, dagger, or with my own bare hands,” Aemyra whispered into his ear, teeth grazing his delicate skin. “I am yours and you are mine.”
Fiorean repeated the promise back to her in the Seann. “I am yours and you are mine.”
His hand moved between her legs again. Already soaked, his fingers drove into her deeply until she was arching against him, willing to give him anything, everything in this moment.
Even though she could feel him straining hard against her pubic bone, his seed already dripping onto her skin, he circled her clit until she was panting in a way that should have been embarrassing.
Fiorean swallowed every moan, every gasp, with his mouth, using the small noises to guide his strokes.
Only when she was completely lost in her pleasure did he cup the inside of her thigh and lift her leg up, hooking it around his waist.
Wet as she was, he slid into her with hardly any effort, burying himself in one stroke. Needing him undone, she thrust herself up to meet him.
“Fiorean.” She breathed his name, finally feeling complete once more as he moved against her inner walls.
It was all he needed to lose whatever control he still had over himself and he sheathed himself inside of her. The delicious ridge of his cock dragged against her inner walls and she felt herself spasm.
“I want more,” she said, her words a command he immediately followed.
Her nails dug into the skin of his back and she only realized her mistake when he grunted in pain.
“Fuck, Fiorean. I’m sorry,” she breathed against his lips, pulling back slightly.
He only brought his hand up to cup her cheek, shaking his head. “I took these scars so you would not have to.”
Still moving inside her, his hands tracing the unblemished skin of her abdomen, his palms cupped her breasts, rolling his thumbs over the beads of her nipples, and she bit back a groan.
“I want my name on your lips, Aemyra,” Fiorean ordered, his voice deep as he thrust into her at the perfect angle.
Aemyra didn’t care if she bruised further as he slammed himself into her. His impatient thrusts were quickly working her to another intense climax and she gripped his hand tighter against her nipple, a strangled cry escaping her lips that could have been an approximation of his name.
It was enough to make Fiorean come apart, and she spiraled so hard she saw stars until he was shuddering inside her.
With the release came a rush of emotion so intense that Aemyra shook in Fiorean’s hold as he pulled out of her. In one motion, he was cradling her against him.
“If there is one thing I am sorry for, it is leaving you to face this alone,” Fiorean whispered into her hair.
Aemyra tucked her face into his chest.
“No more,” Aemyra said. “No more guilt or accusations. What we have done to each other, the decisions we have made, they stay in the past.”
She kissed the pale skin of his chest as he balanced himself on one elbow, drinking in the sight of her naked body below him.
“Whatever my queen commands,” he replied, capturing her lips with the sweetest of kisses.