Chapter 20
Florienne
The throne remembers every queen who sat upon it, and waits for the one who will break it.”
— PROPHECY OF THE IRON KINGDOMS
Ipart my torn shirt, revealing the golden tattoo on my chest. The rosebud remains closed.
Drayven’s eyes widen as he takes in the marking. His breath catches, and hope blooms across his features. I savor the moment, drinking in his vulnerability and devotion. He only shows this side of himself to me. It feels even more precious because I know it won’t last.
“Yes,” I say. “You should have trusted me. You should have told me you lived, but I understand why you didn’t.”
His brows twitch together. “You do?”
“It can’t be easy loving me, knowing what I’m destined to become. But you never left me.”
“No.” His eyes flash. “Never.”
“And I didn’t save myself.” My bravado wavers. Tears sting my eyes. “You’re a fool to think that.”
He steps up the dais, but I plant my foot on his chest, halting his ascent.
“I don’t need a king who speaks for me,” I declare. “Nor do I need one who waits for me to speak first.” Softer, my voice almost trembling. “I just need you, Dray. I need you and me together, no matter our adventures.”
His eyes darken, hunger igniting within them.
“I know,” he growls, peeling off his blood-soaked jacket.
Seeing his scarred, muscular torso sends a bolt of heat through me.
I saw greed and selfishness when faced with the Baron’s summoning scars.
But with Drayven, I see everything he’s too afraid to admit.
My skin grows tight and prickly. My fingers flex on the armrests, eager to touch him.
“Don’t worry, I’m not watching!” Demaya’s voice rings out from the doorway. Then, under her breath, “much.”
Drayven’s head whips around toward her, a protective snarl forming on his lips. But I grab his stubbled chin, forcing his face back to me.
“Eyes on me,” I command.
“So pushy.” His pupils dilate as he meets my stare. “Never stop.”
In one fluid motion, he rises, towering over me. His large hand cups my nape, fingers tangling in my hair as he lifts me to my feet. Our mouths collide, his tongue driving past my lips.
Hormones riot in my body.
This is why he intoxicates me. He’s not intimidated by my confidence, my power, my blood. It turns him on. He doesn’t need to put me down or belittle me to feel validated. His fingers trail between my thighs and glide through my wet center. We both groan.
Demaya’s tinkling laugh fades as she backs out of the temple. “I’ll keep watch,” she calls. “Try not to bring the place down around us.”
I barely register her words. Drayven’s hands are everywhere—cupping my breasts, squeezing my ass, trailing fire across my skin. He breaks the kiss, still towering over me with a wicked glint in his eyes.
Shirtless, scarred, and perfect. My gaze lowers from his handsome face to his slabs of hard pectoral, defined abdomen, and leather breeches…
“Why are your pants still on?” I grumble.
He swipes his thumb across his bottom lip, too distracted by whatever deviant thoughts race in his head to answer me. Heat pools between my thighs.
“Sit down,” he orders gruffly.
“Excuse me?”
“Please sit down on your throne. My queen.” He intends to be polite but can’t contain the craving in his gravelly voice. “I have some groveling to do.”
It’s not that I don’t want to sit. I’m just too aroused to move a limb. He growls impatiently, lifts me beneath my thighs, and drops me onto the throne.
With a wolfish grin, his knees hit the ground. He tears open my borrowed shirt. Cool breeze brushes against my flushed skin as he bares me to his hungry gaze. His calloused hands cup my naked breasts, thumbs brushing over hardened nipples. Pleasure sparks. I moan, arching into his touch.
“I didn’t do this right the first time,” he murmurs, watching his hands play with me. “But in case you’re doubting what’s happening here. You’re mine. If you’ll have me.”
“You know I will—”
“Let me finish.” Dark eyes flash. He slides his palm between my breasts. “This heart is mine.” He splays his hand possessively over my lower belly. “This womb is mine. The children you’ll bear are mine.”
My heart seizes. “Prove it.”
He pushes my thighs apart, exposing me. Cool air hits my slick core, teasing my sensitive flesh.
I should feel vulnerable, spread open on this unholy seat of power.
Instead, I feel invincible. So aching and aroused that I squirm.
Whimper. Make stupid little sounds that only draw out his delay.
Finally, he lowers his mouth to my cunt.
His first lick through my folds has me gasping, hips bucking against his face.
Drayven’s tongue delves deeper, stroking and swirling with languid skill.
Hot pleasure coils tight in my belly. My hands fist in his hair, holding him against me as I grind shamelessly on his face.
His eyes clash with mine, holding me captive as he increases his tongue’s pressure and pace around my clit.
“Fuck, Dray,” I pant, head thrown back. “Don’t stop…”
He groans against my flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through me. I’m so close, teetering on the edge.
“Just a little more…” I beg.
With a final, devastating lick, I shatter.
My climax crashes over me, wave after wave, my body convulsing with the force of it.
Drayven laps greedily at my cunt, prolonging my pleasure until I’m a quivering, mewling mess.
When the last aftershock fades, he pulls back, his eyes dark and intent, mouth and chin glistening.
“You taste so sweet,” he rumbles, licking his lips. “I could feast on you for hours.”
I shiver at the thought, my oversensitive flesh clenching with renewed arousal. But I need to feel him inside me, claiming me, making me his.
“Dray,” I whimper, reaching for him. “Please…”
He surges up, trapping me against the throne, and captures my mouth in a searing kiss. I taste myself on his tongue. It only stokes the inferno raging within me. Blindly, I fumble with the laces of his breeches, desperate to free his straining erection.
“Gods, you look good on this throne,” he says against my lips. “Like you own it.”
With a growl, I rip open his leather breeches, freeing his cock. It springs forth, hard and ready. Drayven hisses as I wrap my fingers around him, stroking from base to tip.
“Fuck, Flori,” he groans, thrusting into my hand. “I need to be inside you. Need to fill you with my seed.”
“Finally.” I squeeze hard until he makes a desperate sound.
“Now,” he growls.
“So bossy,” I smirk and pull him down as I twist out of the throne, changing our positions. Before he realizes what I’ve done, I’m straddling his seated thighs—thick, muscular thighs—gripping the backrest beside his broad, naked shoulders. “Fit us together, Dray.”
Eyes filling with lazy heat, his spine relaxes against the throne. His head tilts back with pure male ego, knowing he’s about to be ridden. And I love it. I love the possession in his eyes. I love that he’s all dominance and self-assurance while I’m on top.
“I like seeing you like this,” he purrs, echoing my thoughts. His gaze locks on my breasts directly before his face.
I don’t know why I ever doubted he’d be attracted to me. He doesn’t even see the inked badges, only me.
He leans down and draws my nipple into his mouth, twirling his slippery tongue around the nub, eliciting a moan from my lips.
The blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance.
I’m so aroused that he glides in with ease.
We both groan as I sink until he’s buried so deep, stretching and filling me, that I forget how to function.
“Ride me, Flori,” Drayven rasps, voice rough with need. “Take what you want.”
“As if you can”—I pant—“stop me now.”
I rise slowly, savoring the drag of his thick cock against my inner walls. Then I slam down, taking him to the root. My clit hits his pubic bone, and a flash of bliss teases me. He throws his head back, throat working with a guttural moan, his fingers flexing on my hips.
He wants to lift me, to take over and control the pace, but he resists. So I reward him for his patience. Bracing my hands on his sweat-slicked shoulders, I repeat my move, rising and falling on his cock. Again. And again. Each stroke sends jolts of heat and pleasure radiating through my core.
“Gods, you feel incredible,” he rumbles. “So hot and tight around me.”
I clench deliberately, and he curses under his breath.
He thrusts up to meet my downward strokes, the force of our joining rocking the obsidian throne.
Sweat beads on our skin as we move together.
But it’s not enough. I’m supposed to be focusing on his pleasure, making him come, but already, I’m picking up the pace, chasing the release building inside me.
“That’s it, love.” Drayven rolls my nipple between his finger and thumb, sending sparks of bliss straight to my core. “Use me.”
He deliberately places his palms on the armrests and relaxes back into the throne, eyes down, drinking up the sight of our bodies joining.
“Dray?” I bite my lip, slowing my hips.
“Keep fucking me, Flori. I want to see you use my cock for your pleasure. Show me how much you want me.”
Something in his tone gives me pause. But it’s not him thinking he’s unworthy or that I’m out of his league. He needs to feel like this is my choice, too. That I want him just as badly as he wants me, no matter what.
My body responds to his quiet consideration, hips rolling with renewed fervor. I rock against him, grinding my clit with each downward thrust. The sensations build rapidly, my inner walls fluttering around his thick shaft. Drayven’s heated gaze remains riveted on the place we’re joined.
“Look at you,” he growls appreciatively. “My fierce, beautiful queen. Taking me so deep.”
“Keep talking like that,” I moan.
“Fuck yourself on my cock, Flori. Like you can’t get enough.”
His filthy words turn me on, and I ride him harder, faster. The wet slap of flesh fills the temple, mingling with our ragged breaths and moans. My thighs burn. My heart pounds. Tension coils tighter.
“Dray, I’m close,” I pant, my nails digging into his shoulders, his neck, his hair.
“Finger yourself,” he grunts, his knuckles whitening on the obsidian armrests.
“You do it.”
Drayven’s eyes flash, and he releases his grip on the throne. One large hand splays across my lower back, pulling me flush against his chest. The other snakes between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding my swollen clit.
“Is this what you need?” His thumb circles the sensitive nub. “My touch to make you come undone? Twice in a row like a greedy little queen.”
“Yes,” I gasp, grinding desperately against him. “Don’t stop, Dray. I need you…”
He strokes me harder and whispers praise in my ear as I bounce. The combined sensations are overwhelming, pushing me to the brink. My inner muscles clench around him, my body drawing taut as a bowstring.
“Come for me, Flori,” he commands. “Drench my cock with your sweetness. Let me feel you lose control.”
“Fuck, Dray!” My body tenses, teetering on the edge of oblivion. “I’m going to—”
“That’s it, love. Come apart for me.”
His commanding tone pushes me over. With a low moan, I shatter, my body seizing with the force of my second orgasm. His hips continue to drive up, meeting my downward thrusts, hitting that spot so deep that stars explode behind my eyes.
“Gods, Flori, the way you clench on my cock…” he groans, still thrusting shallowly as I come down from my high.
I grip the backrest beside his head, and then he completely takes over, hands gripping my hips while he pistons his hips hard, fucking me through it, prolonging my pleasure until I’m sobbing and shaking against him.
He hasn’t come yet, but he’s close. His thrusts grow erratic.
“Fill me, Dray,” I moan against his neck. “Come inside me. Claim me completely.”
“Flori… you’re mine,” he growls, burying his face in my hair. “Always have been. Always will be.”
“Yours,” I agree breathlessly. “Now and forever.”
Thunder cracks and trembles the throne, as if announcing our proclamations to the world. With a final, powerful thrust, Drayven tenses and releases a low, drawn-out groan. His cock pulses, hot and hard, and he spills deep within my body.
“Flori.” My name is a hoarse, reverent prayer on his lips. His arms tighten around me, pinning me against him, ensuring we remain locked together.
In this moment, nothing else exists. Not the Labyrinth, not Kasaros’s game, not the empty throne beneath us—only our unbreakable bond.
Slowly, Drayven’s grip relaxes, his calloused hands stroking soothingly over my back.
I lift my head from his shoulder and meet his intense blue eyes. He cups my face, thumb brushing tenderly across my cheekbone. “I love you, Flori,” he murmurs. “More than anything in this world or any other.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I try to hold them back, but they spill free. After all these years…
“Hey,” he whispers, swiping them. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m happy, you fool.” A smile tugs at my lips. “I love you, too. I never stopped. Even when I thought you were dead.”
“I promise we’re in this together now.” His eyes search mine. “I thought staying away protected you, but I was wrong. You need me here. With you.”
His words flay me open. That’s all I’ve ever needed. Him. With me. Forever. Too overcome with emotion, all I can do is nod.
He captures my lips in a soft, lingering kiss, pouring everything into the gentle caress. When we part, breathless and glowing, I realize something has changed. That loud boom wasn’t thunder. We broke the throne—a crack has formed deep within the obsidian.
A warmth spreads through my chest, a sense of rightness settling deep in my bones. Glancing down, I gasp. The golden tattoo over my heart is blooming, the petals unfurling to reveal the most exquisite rose.