Suddenly, he tensed, his abs quivering. “Stop now. I can’t…” A deep groan swallowed the rest of his sentence.
“It’s good. Come with me.”
“But—”
“If we make a baby, we do. Just come.”
Thalia’s eyes shone like magic, like silver, in the shadow of their bedcovers. Raff surrendered to her then. She pinned his hands against the bed and rode him faster, until he couldn’t hold it. Orgasm broke over him in relentless waves, up from his lower back, tightening his testicles and he shuddered with each hot spasm. She was already so wet and his come only added to the slick deliciousness of it all. Vaguely, he was aware that she hadn’t quite gotten there yet, but he was too spent to do more than hold her when she slipped off his softening cock and rode his thigh to a wet, messy climax.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Afterward, she leaned down to kiss him deeply and curl up against his chest. His whole body smelled like her, and he had zero inclination to take another shower. Her hair felt like soft down against his fingers, and he missed the long spill of it, but some sacrifices were worth it. Thalia doubtless felt the same.
“That’s the first time,” she said.
“What?”
“That you came inside me. Before, you were so careful.”
Raff stroked her back. “With good reason.”
“Just think,” she murmured dreamily. “You might have just planted our babe. What would he look like? Would he have a gift or be able to shift? Or both?”
Shit, when she talked like that, he could imagine it too, though he’d never much cared about extending his father’s bloodline. Now, though, he was picturing Thalia ripe with child, her belly round, breasts plump, and it was uncomfortably arousing. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop envisioning how she’d taste and smell; the hormones would alter her body.
“You’re getting me stirred up again.”
“Already?”
Thalia touched his slippery cock like he might be joking, and yeah, it was already halfway there. He groaned and closed his eyes. “Devil woman.”
“I guess you like the idea of me having your baby.”
“It wasn’t on my to-do list until you mentioned it,” he snapped.
“Well, I’m willing. Just don’t be too disappointed if I can’t or if it takes a while.”
He grinned. “I’ll live with putting in the work, no matter the outcome.”
She smiled back, eyes bright as twin stars.
Maybe Raff would have gone for round two, if someone hadn’t knocked firmly on the door. Ferith called, “You have guests!”
“What the hell? Who?” Thalia pitched her voice to carry.
“Emissaries from Houses Manwaring and Vesavis. I believe they’re here to pledge their loyalty and sign peace accords. And from early drone sightings, I think we’ll have someone from House Gilbraith here within a couple of hours.”
“Holy shit,” she said.
Raff nudged her toward the edge of the bed. “Matters of state require your attention, it seems. And I’m not going anywhere without you. Promise.”
Hurriedly she rose and dressed, taking him at his word. At the door, she paused. “I love you. I suspect you already know, but—”
“I do know,” he said tenderly. “Go be regal.”
Lounging in bed didn’t seem like the right move, so he took a quick, cold shower to settle his libido, then dressed in the suit he’d worn for their wedding service. Since then, there had been attacks, conspiracies, and funerals, but they had weathered everything together. He had every intention of being a damn good prince consort, whatever the hell that entailed.
Gavriel met him on the way to the courtyard. For once, though, the Noxblade didn’t look furious, only somber. “We’re preparing for her coronation. Will you program the drones to make sure there are no unpleasant surprises?”
“With pleasure.”
That task kept him busy for a bit, and by the time he got to the courtyard, decorations were already being hung. The chatelaine hurried about, snapping terse orders, and crates of supplies came in by the truckload. It made sense that there would be a celebration after her official ascension to the throne.
I’m married to the queen of the Eldritch.
This time, the thought didn’t startle him at all, and he resolved to step up his game in every possible way. Thalia would never lack anything due to Raff slacking off.
“You look determined,” a familiar voice said.
He turned to find Korin, just arriving along with a slew of other familiar faces: Callum, the bear clan leader, Dom and Pru from Ash Valley, a pretty, red-haired woman who kept staring at Callum. After a minute, he placed her as Pru’s cousin, Joss. A few minutes later, the Golgoth Prince arrived with his queen, the cat shifter, Sheyla. Maybe he should’ve predicted that people would turn out en masse for such an important occasion, but he still couldn’t quite quell the flicker of surprise.
Still, he tried to cover. “Welcome to Daruvar. It will be a while until the festivities start, but I can offer refreshments until then.”
“We can,” Thalia corrected.
She was magnificent in a silver gown with her hair standing up in spikes that somehow managed to be both elegant and fierce. Her eyes were outlined in purple, her mouth the deepest rose, and he felt like dragging her to bed all over again.
Thankfully, he resisted that urge.
“The queen cometh,” Alastor quipped in the ironic tone that irritated Raff.
“Everyone’s here now.” Thalia didn’t walk so much as glide, as if each of her steps was cushioned by air, and he loved her so much, it was tough to breathe. “There’s no need to delay.”
Since the staff was still scrambling to set the last pieces in place, they might disagree, but Raff wasn’t about to steal her thunder. When she greeted each guest with a warm smile and a handshake, he followed her down the makeshift reception line like he knew what the hell he was doing.
I just have
