Page 130 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Her name tumbled from his lips like a desperate prayer as he reached his peak, his body shuddering, his hands gripping her as though she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

Silence fell, save for their ragged breaths, the lingering echoes of their pleasure.

Mal laughed, breathless and spent, her chest rising and falling as Ash rolled onto his side, pulling her against him as though he could not bear the distance. His arm remained locked around her, keeping her close, keeping her his.

‘I think we might have scared the neighbours,’ she mused, the laughter bubbling in her throat.

Ash turned to her, his eyes filled with something that made her blush, something reverent, in awe. His fingers stroked the curve of her stomach, mapping her, memorising her. ‘You are making me nervous, Fire Prince.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Because you are looking at me as if…’

‘As if what?’

She bit her lip, watching him, feeling him, knowing. ‘As if you enjoyed this so much you want to do it all over again.’ He grinned—a slow, wicked thing that sent a thrill through her. ‘If you do that, I won’t be able to sleep.’

‘Who said you are g-going to sleep?’

Her pulse quickened.

‘Oh?’ Mal’s purple eyes sparkled with curiosity. ‘What will I be doing?’

Ash rolled on top of her once more, caging her in with his body. She felt the heat radiating from him, the fire in his touch, the promise in his gaze. Without hesitation, she reached up, her fingers wrapping around his golden horns as his hand slipped between her thighs once again. ‘You will be moaning all night long, princess.’

And Mal did.

Again.

And again.

And again—until the night surrendered to dawn.

…

Mal awoke from sleep to the soft shuffle of servants entering their chambers, their arms laden with trays of food. At the sight of the entangled prince and princess—bare, limbs tangled like the roots of a forbidden tree—they faltered, cheeks aflame, before hastily setting the meal down and fleeing as though they had stumbled into something sacred.

Mal laughed, a bright, musical thing that rang through the chamber. Drakonians, it seemed, feared the sight of bare skin more than steel.

Her giggles stirred Ash, who had slept with one arm draped lazily around her, his breath warm against the nape of her neck. He hummed low in his throat, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades before trailing his lips lower, his fingers mapping the familiar landscape of her body.

It took mere minutes for his mouth to turn her laughter into moans.

And for a few more hours, they forgot the world outside.

By the time they finally disentangled themselves from the sheets and rose, the servants were allowed back in—though they did not dare meet Mal’s gaze as they prepared the bath and laid out their clothing.

Mal reached for her riding dress, a simple but well-fitted grey garment, slipping it over her bare skin. She fastened the laces at her waist, smoothing the fabric down with practiced fingers before stepping back into the bedroom.

Ash froze.

His golden gaze darkened, burning through her as if she were a stormcloud he longed to chase.

‘Everyone out,’ he commanded, his voice like embers smoldering in the wind.

‘Ash, we are going to be late,’ she chided, laughing as he closed the distance between them and lifted her into his arms, spinning her with reckless abandon. ‘Your men have probably been waiting all morning.’

He kissed the tip of her nose, his hands steadying her hips. ‘You are r-right. But tonight… I want to bathe with you and…’ His fingers brushed the fabric at her waist, toying with the laces as if he might undo them then and there. His gaze dipped, hungry, to where the grey fabric clung to her curves. He bit his lower lip as if pained. ‘And I also want you on this b-bed, with that d-dress on.’

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