Chapter 33 #3
Tightening the spiral, Attalus came to a midair stop, using an updraft to help him hover not too high off the treetops.
“Oh, yes, agae.” He peered at her over his shoulder, curious if she’d refuse him. It’d been a tiring few days, and he wouldn’t begrudge if she wanted to return to their comfortable bed. Still, his hopes were higher than the two of them.
His blood sang when she nodded, a shy excitement glittering in her eyes.
Her stained-glass wings unfolded from her back, a breathtaking display of iridescent blues and purples. In an instant, they were a blur behind her, and Leita unlatched from his back to circle round to his front.
Attalus crooned as she came into his arms, her legs sliding round his waist.
“There you are, agae. Right where you belong.”
A smile lit her face, and she leaned in for a lingering kiss. “You were worth everything, Attalus,” she whispered against his lips. “Overthrowing my aunt, taking the throne, all the centuries waiting. They were worth it, for you.”
Attalus growled, palming her backside. “You can’t say that to a lovesick lizard and not expect to get fucked hard, doe.”
She kissed up his cheek to his ear, where she whispered, “Good.”
She got a swat for her audacity—and another for leaving him behind. The rest could be had later; Attalus needed his mate.
Their mouths met in a hot slide, Leita’s fingers digging into his hair. She gripped him tight, and he rumbled with pleasure, needing her to hold onto him with everything she had.
His tail slid between them and beneath the waistband of her trou. Her sharp inhale made his blood burn as the tip found her needy little clitoris and began to stroke. He reached a hand inside the back of her trou, palming her generous backside and squeezing. Gods, she was a joy to touch.
Fingers sliding between the swells of her cheeks, he found her warm flesh. He teased along until he found where she’d begun to weep for him, crooning as his fingers slipped and slid in a delicious glide.
Her hand pushed along his middle to find his growing cock, caught between them and greedy for her attentions. As his tail flicked and his hand rubbed, Leita worked his cockhead, fingertip sliding over the slit until he wept for her.
Her trou were proving an annoyance, but he knew he couldn’t bring her back to Fallorian in tatters.
At least not without giving Charis and the others heart palpitations.
With her arms around his neck and her wings buzzing, Attalus used his other hand to shove her trou down past her hips, creating as much room as he could.
It wasn’t much, but then again, he didn’t want to be separated from her.
Leita groaned when his tail slipped away and both his hands came to grip her bare backside. Bereft, she nipped at his throat needily, a Queen unsatisfied.
“Put me inside you, agae. Burn me up.”
The breath shuddered out of them both when her lithe hand ran down the length of him to grip him by the root. She guided him home, his cockhead kissing her entrance before pushing inside.
Attalus groaned in relief. “That’s it, doe. Just like that.”
Her greedy cunt sucked up half his length in a single glide, and Attalus’s claws kneaded her, the urge to thrust home overwhelming.
“Are you ready?” he groaned.
“Yes.”
Attalus used his grip on her hips and the slight dip and bob of their flight to push her down the rest of the way.
Leita’s mouth popped into a perfect O, her clitoris pinched between their pubic bones.
A dark laugh rumbled up Attalus’s throat as her hips began precious little rolls and thrusts, seeking friction.
Claws digging into her giving flesh, Attalus lifted her hips only to let them drop in a satisfying slap. Arms and legs wrapped round him, there was little she could do like this, no leverage to exert. Leita hung in the air, borne by his arms and wings, accepting every brutal thrust.
He drove himself inside, dropping her to meet his every upstroke.
Their bobbing hover added momentum and force to every scorching slide in and out, in and out.
Cool air kissed the slick leaking between them on every retreat, before they came together again in a fierce clash of wet sounds and guttural moans.
Instinct drove him, his hips unrelenting as she bounced up and down. Leita bared her fangs at him, her pleasure echoing down their bond. He anticipated it when she struck, mouth wrapping round his throat as her fangs sunk between his scales.
Attalus snarled, bringing her down one last time with body-rattling force.
Her legs spasmed around him, and he filled the Fae Queen with his spend, ever her devoted, loving consort.
He gave her all he had and would continue to until the day he died.
Younglings, comfort, protection, whatever she needed.
She came apart, her fangs sunk inside him as surely as his cock speared her. Wrapped round each other, suspended in midair, they were so much more than Queen and consort. The world was theirs for the taking—even if Attalus already held his own right there in his arms.