“Stare at me much longer and we’ll never make it tonight,” she informed him.
He leaned down, his lips pressing softly to her throat. “I thought you wanted ropes,” he muttered against her skin.
Her fingers entwined in his hair as she inhaled the forest scent of him, her legs instinctively bending up on either side of his waist. The feeling of his rippled back muscles beneath her fingers made her eyes close, her hips arch upwards against his.
She reached for his length and gave it a tug, stroking it back to life. “Quickly, my King,” she whispered in his ear.
He groaned into her neck, and she felt him stiffen in her grasp. He nipped down her collarbone and sucked on her breast, teeth tugging on her hardened nipple. But she pushed on his chest, legs gripping around him, and she turned him on his back. Her hands grappled to the poster behind his head, and she sank herself onto his hardened cock with a rock of her hips. He cursed under his breath, eyes tightening, and she surrendered breath as his hands splayed over her hips, fingertips digging into the thick flesh of her backside.
It was a half hour more before they were both dressed in their banquet garb again. He mocked the entire time they were dressing, telling her of the dances he was sure the Blackhands would try to teach them. She’d just finished twisting her hair when she heard the words he was speaking trail, and she did a double-take at his face as he stared at her, the smile on his face faltered, replaced by the dilated pupils and look of inherent surprise that she’d only seen on him a few times.
“What?” she asked.
“You’ve no idea how powerfully striking, yet diabolically terrifying you are, do you?” he said to her.
The words caught her off guard, but the smile rose on her lips nonetheless, and she sighed into the swelling in her chest. “Do you not realize you’re the same?” she asked him, almost chuckling under her breath. “Beautiful, dominating, and amorous all at once. Wrapped in shadows of inherent angst and carnal desire, poised to strike at any moment.”
A small smirk grew just at the corner of his lips, hair falling over his face as though he wasn’t used to anyone saying such things about him.
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” he bantered in such a low quiver that a chill pulsed down her spine.
Her smirk widened as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she almost closed her eyes at the sweep of his hands digging into her hips. He didn’t say anymore as the thunder clapped outside, and she began to run her hands up and down his arms, surrendered into the quiet of their shared ardor, the content of their equality.
“Are you ready for this?” she whispered.
Draven’s weight shifted in front of her, and he looked past her out the window. “Thunder. Clouds. Lightning. Rain… Looks like as good of a day as any to die.”
She smirked and shoved his arm. “Be serious. For once, Venari.”
His hair fell over his face, tickling her shoulders, as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I am serious. My Queen.”
The door opened then, but it didn’t startle them.
“Well. You two are certainly looking to make an entrance,” Lex said as she crossed the room. “Is there some sort of joint venture that I should be warned about?”
“The less people who know, the better,” Draven said as Aydra took a step back to look at herself in the full length mirror again.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t even know,” Aydra said with a raised brow.
Lex shrugged. “All right. Keep your secrets. But hurry it up. We’re late.”
Aydra’s stomach knotted as she stared at herself in the mirror, blocking out Draven and Lex’s bantering beside her. She looked down at the form-fitted black and gold gown, the twisted dark golden vine pattern wrapped within the stark black velvet material glistened of the waning sun outside. It fit around her curves and flared out below the knee as her favorites usually did. The sleeves hugged her arms and the golden pattern leapt off the black fabric around her shoulders, wrapping up over her collarbone and neck like tree limbs.
Her hand reached for her ginger curls. The fire had returned in her eyes in the last few days that she’d felt more alive than she’d ever felt here in this castle. Draven appeared behind her then, the black high collared gambeson he had bought fitting snugly around his form. The collar cut low on his chest, revealing the bottom edge of the taut muscles of his pecks, the dark hair creeping up on his skin. The leather of his skinny pants glimmered in the sunlight coming through the window. The great sword on his belt hit his leg when he moved. His black and ivory boned crown already sat embedded in his dark sun-streaked hair, as though it had been made to fit on his head and his head alone.
He reached for the thick golden twigged crown in her hands, and she turned towards him. It was placed on her hair, and she rubbed her hands against his chest up to his face as his arms slid around her waist.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His brows raised. A look of startled surprise pressed into every pore of his features. “What?”
She bit back the smile threatening her lips. “I’m sorry, I forgot I hadn’t told you.”
He swallowed hard and the weight shifted on his feet, eyes still blinking as
