Page 31 of King of Fire and Scales

His hands held her close, his grip firm yet gentle. She arched beneath him, matching his rhythm perfectly. Their bodies were intertwined in ecstasy.

His fingers found hers and he laced their hands together, pressing them onto the soft fabric of the divan above her head. His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand, sending another jolt of electricity coursing through her.

He drove into her with a steady rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure straight to her core. The sensation was intoxicating and overwhelming, and she felt herself teetering on the edge.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps that were lost in their shared kisses. Their bodies glistened with sweat under the soft glow of the candlelight. Each stroke, each caress, every whisper of skin on skin was a testament to their shared passion and hunger for one another.

The room filled with their gasping breaths and soft sounds of pleasure, a symphony of delight that drowned out everything else. Time seemed to stand still as they drowned in each other, the outside world forgotten.

Her hands tightened around his as she felt her climax building, a storm brewing within her that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. But she wasn't afraid. He would be there to catch every piece of her.

She could see it in his eyes too, the telltale signs of his impending release. His movements became more erratic, his breaths shorter and more ragged. She could feel him, rigid and throbbing inside her, ready to surrender just as much as she was.

Through the haze of pleasure, Thalia felt a warm glow spread through her body. It was the look in his eyes that did it. That raw, unfiltered desire that made her feel cherished and loved.

Suddenly, he flipped them over so that she was straddling him. Thalia froze for a moment at this unexpected change in position, but Drake held her gaze confidently, guiding her gently. Taking control, she began to ride him at a pace that matched their heightened desires.

The reversal of roles gave birth to a newfound sense of power within Thalia. She watched as Drake’s face contorted with pleasure underneath her. It was a potent image that further stoked the flames of her desire.

His hands roamed freely over her body as she moved rhythmically above him. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasingly caressing her nipples before moving down to grip her hips. The sight and feel of him completely at her mercy was intoxicating.

She could feel him everywhere, his touch leaving a trail of fire on her skin that only he could quench.

His breath hitched as he neared his climax, a low groan escaping him as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Thalia…” he breathed out in a ragged whisper.

It was the way he said her name that made her heart flutter, raw and filled with emotion. With one final thrust, they tumbled over the edge together into waves of pleasure and satisfaction.

Thalia collapsed onto Drake, their bodies slick with sweat and panting heavily. He kissed her softly, gently, reaffirming the connection they had just shared. Her heart pounded against his, two hearts beating as one amid their entangled bodies.

SIXTEEN

DRAKE

The king woke with the Creation Sorceress in his arms. He felt complete, a soft solace akin to the flow of a gentle stream. She was dozing peacefully, lying on his forearm, her enchanting mind somewhere dreaming the most cosmically beautiful of dreams.

Drake felt like he was in heaven, or some otherworldly place where troubles turned to snow, and heartache was stitched together with sweet trails of kisses from his mate’s bewitching lips.

Sex had always been routine for Drake. He had discovered it as a young adult, and like most shifters, took a shine to it as an expected and pleasurable practice. He enjoyed it as much as a flesh and blood man could but felt it grow dull as time passed. He thrived on the zeal of the many lovers who had joined him in his royal bed, usually for the sake of celebration or unwinding.

But it was always the same. The height of the moment, a physical crescendo, discharged and then lulled into bland nothingness. He didn't blame the women. He blamed his own sentimental nature but successfully abandoned the practice for nearly an entire journey around the sun.

Then he met Thalia. Everything changed then. His poetic soul finally felt justified and alleviated by the fears that lay coiled within the wells of his psyche. His parents had been void of the mate sense, but their allegiance went on effortlessly. The king had seen the way their respect, and at some points, authentic love had driven every decision they made for the family and the kingdom.

He knew from their example that, yes, he could certainly fall in love with another. But it would eternally fall short of the soul-stirring connection of a fated mate. If he settled for a formidable woman, the truth would forever itch the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be a fair trade.

He settled against the pillow, watching her meditatively. He fantasized about a life without kingly duties, residing in a village similar to the one Thalia was raised in, tending to crops and cows and rising with the dawn, shrinking with dusk into their own private oasis.

There was a serenity to the image the king rarely felt. It reminded him of the days of yore, wandering the meadows and mountainsides as a boy, free from the authority of the crown that sometimes made his skull ache.

Making love to Thalia seemed to cure him of that affliction. Though he had yet to mark her, his dragon had been sedated by their dalliance. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with her all day, rising only to eat and drink, then return to bed and engulf himself in her every twist and bend and whimper…

A knock at the door intruded upon his fantasy. Thalia was still.

“My King?”

It was Mads. The king grumbled to himself, not wanting to wake his treasured darling. He carefully slid his arm out from under her resting head, placing it tenderly on the feather pillow. He was thankful when she made a small moan, and then turned over to face the window.

Drake rose from bed and hastily dressed in a casual robe. He was irked but knew his trusted military strategist would not wake him during the early hours if the issue was not urgent.

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