Page 46 of The Stolen Kingdom

Valda was surrounded by a curtain of blue hair as Maris’s lips slotted against hers. Then the curtain shifted, replaced by the firm, tanned thighs she adored.

Valda’s hands found Maris’s ass, gripping and spreading her cheeks as she carefully positioned her lover over her face. Without hesitation, her long, broad tongue pressed against Maris’s soaked pussy, dragging a slow, deliberate stroke through her folds.

A deep groan rumbled in Valda’s chest, vibrating against Maris’s inner thighs and sensitive clit as she lapped the wetness coating her tongue.

Maris’s hand shot to Valda’s dark hair, fingers tangling tightly as she took control. Valda surrendered willingly, her strong hands providing support as Maris rocked her hips, grinding herself against Valda’s mouth and face.

Valda’s hands trailed upward, leaving their mark on Maris’s thighs and hips, holding her steady as her tongue worked with unrelenting focus. The room filled with the sound of Maris’s desperate cries, as her rhythm grew frantic.

Too preoccupied with giving in to Maris’s needs, Valda didn’t notice the hand slithering over her taut stomach. Surprised, she flinched as skilled fingers spread over her folds and then cupped her pussy. Valda’s stunned gasp interrupted her, until Maris pulled her back.

This side of Maris, the dominating one, always left her breathless.

Valda’s arms hooked securely around Maris’s thighs, pulling her closer as she resumed her fervent efforts to satisfy her lover. By the shaky breaths escaping Maris’s lips and the quivering of her body, Valda knew she was close to the edge.

The same fingers teasing Valda went to work, mimicking the soft flicks of Valda’s tongue, driving her to the point of madness. She wanted to make them come at the same time… She wanted to feel Maris crumble above her, to hear her cry out to the heavens, toshout the name of the one in control of her body—the one who turned her into this desperate mess.

Valda anchored Maris’s body against her face, holding her steady as the panting, and frantic swearing above her grew louder, desperate.

Opening her eyes, Valda looked up, her breath hitching at the sight above her: Maris, head thrown back, body arched because of her…

But then, Valda saw it.

The soft glint of Maris’s necklace caught her eye, the two wedding bands dangling from the chain around her lover’s neck. A sharp pang tore through Valda’s chest, replacing her fervent desire with a cold ache.

As if sensing her distress, Maris stilled, her movements halting as she released Valda’s hair and brought her hand to the necklace.

The shift was immediate. Maris’s body tensed, and the warmth between them evaporated. The walls of rejection rose, brick by agonizing brick, as Maris clutched the wedding bands tightly. Her blue eyes, once hazy with arousal, now burned with rage.

Suddenly, the sound of broken glass and laughter pierced through their connection.

Valda’s eyes snapped open, and instead of finding a goddess upon her, she saw nothing but the ceiling of her room back in Cressida. Valda blew out a shaky breath, pushing herself upright.

Her clothes clung to her damp skin, drenched with sweat, and her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing. She darted her tongue across her lower lip, searching for a trace of Maris’s taste—but there was nothing.

And then she felt it. Maris’s need. Her cries of anger, frustration, and unfulfilled arousal. The sensations dissolved in an instant, leaving Valda aching.

I need to see her…

She needed to see Maris… She had to. Maybe being close to her physically would help their bond heal and become stronger. Perhaps they had already wasted too much time apart. Valdahadto find her.

With unsteady hands, Valda gathered her coat and sword before she stormed out of her room, through the inn, and into the cold night where her horse waited. Cerberus leapt after her, the feline landing gracefully before scrambling onto the saddle blanket, claws digging in for balance.

Valda’s plan was simple.

She would head to New Agenor, call out to Maris using their bond, and hope—pray—that the other woman had let her walls crumble enough to meet her. If not, she’d return to Cressida and continue her operation. She could already hear Isen’s violent uproar at her decision, butfour monthswas more than enough… right?

“What are you doing?” Isen’s voice cut through the million thoughts in her head as he stepped in front of her horse. The animal shifted nervously, tossing its head. “You are not heading to New Agenor, not like this.” He pointed sharply at her.

Valda glanced down at herself. Her disheveled state—the wrinkled blouse clinging to her sweat-drenched skin, the wildness in her eyes. Lowering her head, she tugged at her blouse as if to cover herself. “I need to see her,” she said, her voice quivering.

“You need to plan a way to beat him!” Isen bared his teeth, his arms outstretched, preventing Valda from moving an inch. “I know how you feel, Valda, believe me, the yearning the need, the sickness is enough to drive you mad but—”

“She keepsblockingme!”

“And she will keep on doing that!”

“Please… Isen…” Her voice broke, yet she didn’t care Isen saw her like that. Swallowing a sob, she tilted her head, almost in pain. “Isen, I need to see her.”

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