Page 129 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Ash glanced up, his golden eyes questioning.

‘Don’t go,’ she whispered.

He tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. ‘I’m not g-going anywhere.’

Mal stepped forward, stopping just before him. Hesitant. She had never touched his hair before, though she had often wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Like spun gold, the colour of molten sunlight. Carefully, she threaded her fingers through it, brushing against the base of his horns.

Ash stilled beneath her touch.

A heartbeat. Then another.

His eyes darkened, searching her face.

‘Don’t hide from me.’

His throat bobbed, and then— soft, reverent, a promisecarved into eternity.

‘I promise.’

Mal swallowed, pressing her lips together before holding out her hand to him. A silent invitation. A familiar ritual. ‘Are you sleeping in here again tonight?’ It was the same question she asked every night.

A test. A hope. A quiet plea.

She waited, bracing herself for rejection—for the weight of his uncertainty to settle between them once more.

But something had changed.

And they both knew it.

Ash’s calloused hand slid into hers, rough against the delicate lines of her palm, a contrast she found herself craving.

Mal guided him back into the bedroom, their footsteps whispering against the cold stone floor. Before the great, sprawling bed, she turned to face him, her breath hitching in her throat. Slowly—hesitantly, reverently—her trembling fingers found the buttons of his crimson shirt. One by one, she unfastened them, the fabric peeling away like fire parting from embers. Her hands roamed the expanse of his chest, smoothing over the firm muscle and golden skin stretched beneath her touch. Her lips parted, her breath faltering at the sheer magnificence of him.

Ash’s hands traced the gentle curve of her collarbone, his touch featherlight but burning nonetheless. He reached for the straps of her dress, his fingers slipping them off her shoulders with deliberate slowness, watching as goosebumps chased the retreating fabric. His golden eyes—molten, alight with something deep and insatiable—drank her in as she unraveled before him. She shivered, anticipation lacing her spine as the dress slipped down her body, pooling at her feet like ink. Naked, bared beneath the flickering candlelight, she was his to behold.

The tip of his finger brushed over her bottom lip, tracing theshape of her mouth before gliding lower, down the elegant curve of her throat. Mal arched her back in silent invitation as his touch traveled like a whispered prayer between her breasts, trailing lower, lower, ever lower. Heat slashed through her, pooling between her thighs. He halted just before reaching her core, a wicked smile curling his lips—a promise, a tease.

And then he guided her onto the bed.

‘Ash…’

His name escaped her in a breathless plea just as his mouth found hers—soft, claiming, all-consuming. Then he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, over her throat, his tongue following the same path his fingers had moments ago. Mal gasped, her back arching, surrendering, needing more.

His hands found her breasts, kneading, teasing, worshipping, while his mouth ventured lower. The sound of his breath, the warmth of his lips ghosting across her skin, sent her body spiraling into madness. Then his mouth was between her thighs, and she was lost.

Her moan shattered the air, her fingers tangling into his golden locks as she tugged, desperate and wild. She felt herself unravel, the pleasure mounting—gathering like a storm ready to break. Just when she thought she might combust, his fingers joined his tongue, sending her careening over the edge.

She screamed, her body trembling as waves of ecstasy consumed her.

And still, he was not finished.

Before her pulse had even settled, he was on top of her, his mouth capturing hers in a slow, devastating kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her nails raking down his back as he filled her, stretching, claiming, setting her ablaze.

He stilled, his body taut, waiting for her. Giving her control.But Mal did not want control. She wanted him. Inside of her.

Slowly, she moved, guiding him, commanding him, until the pain melted into pleasure, until the fire consumed them both.

Ash groaned, his lips tracing her jaw, her ear, the line of her throat. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust—he worshipped her. And Mal broke, again and again, beneath the weight of his devotion.

---