Chapter 34 #2
“I love you so much,” he murmured into her neck, nuzzling her and offering kisses anywhere he came into contact with her salty skin.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, voice sated and sleepy as she snuggled against his chest.
Isahn awoke to find they’d switched positions, and he now used her breasts as a pillow. A fine arrangement.
The sun had risen in earnest at some point, pouring through the open curtains to warm his back.
After peeling himself off of George’s soft bosom, he pulled the sheet up to cover her and slipped from the bed. There was work to be done. Quietly, he used his magic to draw the curtains closed for her.
Dashing through the sitting room, Isahn paused to retrieve his discarded bag from the day before and went to unpack.
The process was speedy. He’d traveled light.
After returning a few belongings to his closet, he slid the most important things into the drawer by his bed.
Then he popped into the bathing chamber to freshen up.
His heart and lungs hummed in happy harmony as he dressed in a distinctly Domossan style. It felt phenomenal to be home, for once and for all.
Clothed and ready for the day, he slipped into the dining room, heading for the door.
The memory of George’s soft curves stalled him in his tracks as he relived chasing her around the table.
Chuckling, he readjusted his manhood, then unlatched the door and opened it a crack.
Hiding behind the panel, he coughed discreetly.
Rather than Ean’s golden wings, a flurry of bronze zipped into the room. Isahn had a knife prepared before the new faerie even met his eye.
“Ach!” The young man threw up his hands as he flew backward into the now-closed door.
“Who are you? Where’s Ean?” Isahn reached for him with an open hand, on instinct, but the fae zipped up to the ceiling, evading his grasp.
“Eanraig’s occupied. On business for the princess. I’m on guard until he returns. Name’s Ruairi, sir. And dinnae fret, I ken who ye are.”
Isahn nodded. Of course. Ean was likely studying the book they’d brought back from Selwas. Releasing his ice-knife, Isahn requested breakfast be sent up on a tray. A tinkle announced the arrival of the meal before Ruairi even left the room.
Food in hand, Isahn nudged open the door to Georgie’s chamber, where she shifted in bed but didn’t wake. Leaving their breakfast on the low table by the windows, he returned to her side.
Gently, he folded down the sheet covering her sleeping form and gazed at the woman whose unrivaled beauty was his to enjoy forever. With a heated wave of magic, Isahn slowly cleaned her, beginning with a caress to her supple mouth before moving down to run the length of her neck.
“Mmm.” She stirred as he cupped her breasts, cleansing them with joyous ripples. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too, my love,” Isahn rumbled as he washed her lower and lower.
“I’m too hungry to go again,” she whined, even as her hips rose to meet him.
“We’ll eat first, yes? Breakfast is here.” He parted her folds, cleaning the stickiness from the night before.
Georgie lifted her sleepy head just enough to confirm that there was indeed food like he’d promised. Satisfied, she flopped back, her curls a tangle of black fanning out around her head. “Maybe I’ll eat second,” she said in a rasping murmur. “But you’re welcome to start now.”
Laughing, he hopped onto the bed, buried his face between her thighs, and took her up on that offer.
They settled into the sitting area not long later, George double-wrapped in an airy robe and his heavy arms.
“I’ll be right back,” Isahn whispered as he released her and stood from the sofa.
“N...” Her “no” fizzled out when she saw he was only going to retrieve a packet he’d left on the chair. “What’s that?”
“Two things. First”—Isahn lifted a bit of fabric and held it up for appraisal—“take off your robe.”
“Already?” she teased, even though she was already halfway to standing and loosening the tie. “What is it?”
“Stays. Try them on. I—” He coughed, embarrassed. “This is a bit odd, but I had my sister order them for you in Midlake. It’s the Selwassan version of your bubby bindings—”
“Strophium,” she corrected him.
“Strophium. I think they should offer more support, and hopefully help your back.”
George grinned as she grabbed the stays. This style laced up the front—she could put them on by herself. But he wanted to help, so he did.
They fit perfectly, hiking her soft mountainous breasts up into a shelf he longed to press his face into. Following the fabric down, Isahn’s gaze dropped to her navel, and on to her exposed sex.
When he groaned, she laughed. “Soon.”
In response, he swiped a finger between her legs, teasing them both deviously in the process.
Upon his retreat, she grumbled, displeased, and soft hands of touch magic tried to pull him back, but he kept moving, intent on retrieving her second present. Pulse hammering, the world blurred around him, as his focus landed solely on his future queen.
Taking two steps forward, Isahn stopped and dropped to his knee.
Georgie gasped as he opened the box, flashing the ring within as he began his well-rehearsed speech, “Georgetta Kastrumanos, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You crept into my heart with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.
You’ve brightened my world and electrified my life.
You give me purpose. I’d love nothing more than to spend forever, planted by your side, supporting you in every way I can offer. ”
He stood, unable to bear the distance any longer, and cupped her face with a shaking palm.
It didn’t matter that he knew what her answer would be, the situation was monumental, life-altering, and energy thrummed through him.
He’d made it. He’d found the woman he wanted to spend forever with.
“George, Georgie, Georgetta... Will you marry me?”
She lifted a hand to his cheek, her touch calming his nerves. With her other hand, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “Yes, Isahn, yes. Absolutely. Always. A million times, yes.”
Their kiss was soft and slow, tender, and brimming with silent promises.
“Oh, Isahn. My lord, my earl,” she drawled when they finally broke apart and he slipped the ring of gold, diamonds, and shifting alexandrite onto her finger.
He’d chosen that piece in particular. The central stone turned from stunning turquoise in daylight to a rich purple indoors.
It had its own sort of mirage, like her.
“About that—” Isahn cleared his throat.
“About what?” George narrowed her eyes.
“Well, I regret to inform you I cannot be your earl as I am no longer an earl at all.”
“What? You’re not? How?”
Isahn laughed. “Solaelia is officially Countess of Midlake. I abdicated. Can’t have a Selwassan noble marrying a Domossan Queen, now can we?”
“You did that for me?” she breathed.
“Of course I did. I love Selwas, but I’ve fallen a little in love with Domos, too. And Georgie, I have fallen so much further for you. I would do anything for you. l love you.”
“Was that meant to be a pun about social class? Because I’m going to make you king. You realize that, right?” She stood on her toes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a pun, actually. But... consort. You’ll make me king consort.”
She rolled her eyes.
He kissed her gently for a few moments before recalling she wore nothing but her stays and her new ring.
His hands slipped down, molding to the globes of her bottom.
Then one hand moved lower still, finding her hot center from behind.
She squeaked as he lifted her and carried her directly back to bed.