34. The Man Beneath the Stars
The Man Beneath the Stars
CAELAN
Sera could have asked me for my kingdom, and I would have handed her my crown.
Ever since I had her, the only thing I could think about was being buried inside her again. The sounds she made followed me into sleep. Her lips were the first thing I thought about when I woke.
I meant it when I said she would own me completely.
The lie was the condition attached to it. That it would happen if she’d let me have her.
She owned me long before she’d even let me touch her.
Longer than I’d care to admit.
I’d burn a considerable amount of things down for her. Cheerfully.
As usual, I had arrived at the throne room early to read the reports that would be discussed during court. Only two advisors lingered in the hall. The stone floors still held the cool chill from the night. The guards closed the double doors behind Sera and me.
The reports had been prepared and stacked neatly on the table beside the throne.
I thumbed through them before sitting. The attempt to read them lasted approximately four minutes.
Sera stood in her usual position to my right. It was where Riven used to stand. Now it was where she stood. The view had improved significantly. My ability to concentrate had not.
She was not doing anything in particular that made concentrating on anything else difficult.
I wasn’t even looking at her at the moment.
But her dress was forest green today. Long-sleeved, high-collared, perfectly modest. I preferred the navy one with the straps.
That one was cut low and hugged her body like—
“I can’t focus,” I said to the report in my hand.
“Is this the part where you blame me?”
I turned and looked up at her. “So you are doing it on purpose.”
She frowned. “I’m just standing here.”
“Looking like that.” My eyes raked up and down her body.
She looked down at herself and narrowed her eyes at me. A strand of her silky brown hair fell against her jaw. My hand had not moved to tuck it behind her ear. I was very proud of my hand.
“Like what?” she asked.
I set the reports down.
The face she made was familiar. I had seen it when I lifted her onto the balcony balustrade.
Saw it again when I emptied the council room mid-meeting and pushed the maps off the table.
The one she wore when she knew I was going to be a problem.
When she couldn’t decide if she wanted to stop me or encourage me.
I stood, and a single stride brought me chest to chest with her. My hands found her waist.
“What are you doing?” she said, eyes darting to the doors.
“Appreciating.” I kissed the soft skin of her jaw. “My personal.” Moved on to her neck. Right over the spot that made her breath catch. “Guard.”
I was already hard. At this point, I considered it my natural state around her.
“Ah,” she said, a little breathless. “Excellent boost for morale.”
“Very.”
“Entirely necessary for work ethic.”
“I’m a wonderful employer.” I pressed my mouth to hers. Slowly at first, and when her lips parted, I took my time. My tongue chased hers, and her hand came up to my jaw.
“The advisors,” she said against my mouth. “They should have gathered by now.”
If I was being honest, I had forgotten about them. Forgotten where we were.
“Mm.”
“Caelan—”
“They can wait.”
My hand roamed up her stomach and cupped her breast through the silk. The way it felt in my hand made me ache painfully against my trousers. My thumb worked slow circles until she pebbled into a hard peak.
She was trying to look unaffected. Her hips had other opinions about that.
I stepped backward and pulled her with me. Guided her until the back of her knees found the throne. She fell straight down into it. Her eyes widened, and she looked at me as if I had done something terrible. I hadn’t. I gave her somewhere to sit, and the throne was right there.
“Caelan.” Her voice was panicked. “This is treason.”
“It’s a chair.”
“It’s your throne.” She stared at me. “I’m sitting on your throne.”
“I can see that.” I stepped between her legs and looked at how beautiful she was. “You look good on it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
My hand found the slit of her dress and slid up her thighs. When I reached between her legs, I had to work hard to maintain the expression I was going for.
I knew what I’d find. I had smelled her arousal when I was kissing her. Still couldn’t stop the satisfaction that moved through me.
“You’re practically dripping for me,” I said as my fingers brushed against the soaked fabric.
She did not dignify that with a response, which was its own answer.
I thought about the first night. The way she knew what she was doing to me. How close she came to making me beg.
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked suspiciously.
I let the shadows move. Dark tendrils slid up the leg of the throne first.
She noticed them half a second too late. They wrapped around her wrists and the carved arms of the chair. Pitch black against her skin.
“Caelan—” she pulled at them. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to know how it feels,” I said innocently.
Another tendril was crawling behind the throne chair. One she had yet to notice.
“Know how what feels?” Eyes wide with surprise. Her lips were parted. Chest rose and fell unevenly, but her hands were still. She wasn’t pulling against the restraints.
She liked this.
“How it feels to have you right there.” I glanced at the shadows on her wrist. “And not be allowed to touch you.”
The tendril of shadow behind her crept over her shoulders. She flinched at the cold of it. It moved along her jaw, and a small gasp escaped her. Then it slid over her eyes, and she went still.
“Wanting to see you,” I watched her breathe. “And not being able to.”
I moved slow circles over the fabric between her legs. Lightly, with barely any pressure. Nowhere near enough.
She pulled against the shadows. The necklace I gave her caught the light with each breath. Her hips bucked against my hand impatiently.
“Caelan,” she said my name like a warning. I liked the way it sounded more than I should have.
My fingers hooked her underwear and pulled it off one leg.
I dropped to my knees.
If I were ever meant to kneel, it would be like this. Before her. On my throne. In my kingdom. At the center of everything that belonged to me, entirely at her mercy.
That had frightened me when I first understood it. Rulers do not kneel. I had not knelt for anyone other than my king, and I would do it again.
“You have me on my knees for you.” I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “I’d give you my entire kingdom if you’d just ask.”
My mouth replaced my hand, and I took my time devouring her.
She tasted like perfection. Sweet, rich, and impossible to describe. I pressed my mouth closer. My intention to tease her had left the room entirely, with my restraint in tow.
She bucked against my face shamelessly. Pulled at the restraints as soft moans spilled from her lips.
“The room is charmed.” I ran a finger down her entrance. “They can’t hear you.”
I plunged two fingers into her, and her thighs clenched around me in surprise. She made another sound. This one louder and considerably more satisfying.
My thumb found her clit, and I curled my fingers against the spot that she liked. Then pulled all the way out before delving back in. I kept the rhythm at a slow, torturous pace.
She said something that could generously be called words.
“Problem?” I asked before dipping my tongue into her.
The pointed part of her heel dug hard into my back. I shifted and made a note to address the shoes next time.
“I need—” She squirmed in the chair. “I need more than this. Please—”
I picked up the pace.
Her hips moved to meet me, her bound hands pulling uselessly at nothing.
I kept going until her thighs shook on my shoulders. Then I sucked down hard on her clit before releasing it. Waited a beat before pressing my thumb firmly against it.
She came apart on my throne with my name in pieces on her lips. The bond sent it back, and I would’ve fallen over if I wasn’t already kneeling.
I watched every second of it. The way her back arched, eyebrows knitting, mouth falling open.
Seraphae coming undone was the most exquisite thing that I had seen in the two centuries I had lived.
She was still trembling when I rose.
The shadows slid free from her eyes and her wrists. She blinked against the light, adjusting.
I leaned down and kissed her slowly, letting her taste herself. She bit my lower lip and tugged.
I smiled against her, my arm wrapping around her waist.
The council had been waiting outside the closed doors, probably wondering why their prince was late.
She was sprawled across the throne, face flushed, breath unsteady in a way that made every rational thought I had irrelevant.
In one swift motion, I turned her around. Her knees were on the cushioned throne before the gasp finished leaving her. Her fingers found the edge of the wood. Face pressed against the high back.
I lifted her dress and took a moment to appreciate the view. She was exactly at the height I needed her to be. I made a note to thank whoever had designed the throne.
My hand pulled her hip closer, and I ripped my trousers open.
“Caelan.” Her voice shook. “The council—”
Her words broke into a loud moan when I pushed in with a single stroke.
The sounds she made echoed off the ceiling.
She didn’t stop making them. I didn’t stop moving.
“Fuck.”
Thrust.
“The.”
Thrust.
“Council.”
I had been meaning to say that out loud for centuries. Being a prince made it difficult. This felt like the appropriate occasion.
Profanity, it turns out, was difficult to regulate when I was inside her.
The second orgasm hit her, and she screamed my name loud enough that I had second thoughts about the charms on the room.
I followed on the next thrust. The bond sent hers back at the same time mine was still coming, and I was not prepared for that.
My hand found the arm of the chair, and I buckled over her.
My mouth found her shoulder, and we stayed there. Both of us shaking.
I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck before straightening and adjusting my clothes.
She got off the throne, and I smoothed her skirts.
Her face was flushed, eyes glossy, as she cleared her throat.
I stared at her, unable to wipe the stupid smile off my face.
“Let them in,” I said calmly.
She moved down the dais, a little unsteady. Picked up her composure somewhere along the way and opened the doors.
I sat down, picked up the reports, and began to read.
The level of disrespect we conducted on the throne would have given half of Primoria a stroke.
The advisors filed in, and none of them knew.
Sera stood beside me, trying her hardest to look professional.
I was a wonderful employer.