Page 38 of Long Live the Elf Queen

Looking down, his fingers ran over the raised pink flesh on his abdomen. “It’s better than it was.”

Swallowing hard, she placed her palm over it, feeling the violent edges. It must have been excruciating. “Does it still hurt?”

He placed his hand over hers, stroking his thumb over the top of her skin. “Only sometimes. You don’t need to worry, my love.”

But she was worried. No wonder he couldn’t get to her sooner. That dragon bitch needed to die. “I’m going to murder her. Slowly.”

He stepped into the tub and brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles then pulled her down with him, raising the water level up to her shoulders. She rose to her knees and grabbed the sponge off the side table and dipped it in. After lathering it with soap, she leaned forward, leaving only inches between them and slowly wiped it across the hard planes of his chest, admiring his powerful, defined pectorals and shoulders. “How did you—survive?” It pained her a little to even suggest he almost didn’t.

He watched her face as she concentrated on the sponge, gliding over his warm ivory skin; if she looked him in the eye now, she didn’t know if she could hold herself back. The pleasant heat blooming in her intensified and she pressed her lips to his wet shoulder gently. His skin was soft and smooth.

“Barely,” he said, his voice vibrated through her touch. His fingertips danced on the outside of her hips, gliding up her waist. “With the help of Mage Vesstan and my healing ability. I couldn’t walk for a few weeks. The first week I think I was in and out of reality, hallucinating in a fever.”

She hated to think about how many days and nights he suffered. And she’d pitied herself for not being able to drink or eat, wishing for him to rescue her while he was near death. She should have found a way to go to him. Moving the sponge down his throat and over his arm, elicited a low hum. “That feels good, Laya.”

“You truly must be descended from the old gods to have survived this.” She dipped her hand underwater and touched his scar again, mystified.

He smirked. “You must be, for I have never seen anyone as divine.” His hands gripped her waist, and he pulled her against him. A heartbeat later his mouth claimed hers. It wasn’t a soft, tentative kiss. There was surety, ownership. It left no doubt that he was hers. “Or delicious.” He kissed her again. “Or sexy. You are a goddess of desire, drawing me in, infusing yourself into my every thought—I’ve never wanted anything more than you, Laya.”

The sponge plopped into the water. Her hands gripped behind his neck. Hot water made his skin slick and warm. His rough palms cupped her backside, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. “Mmm,” he hummed until full lips crashed into hers again and his tongue slid past her teeth, flicking against her own. “Maker, I’ve never craved anything so much,” he murmured, fisting her hair. “Never needed something like this.”

She moaned as she rubbed against his hardness, pushing her hands along his scalp, gripping him tighter with her thighs. Her nails slid across the muscles of his back, and he arched into her further. His breath came faster and moved strands of her hair like a gentle wind. His smell: sweet but heavy, her nose trailed along his shoulder and up his neck, cedar, mint soap and sweat. She tasted the salt of his skin on her lips and wanted more. “I love you,” she whispered. “And oh, how I missed you.”

His kisses trailed down her neck, to her collarbone, raising bumps along her skin, and then his tongue slid over her sensitive peaked breast. Her head lolled back until he grabbed her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. What she saw there, the longing and wild intensity made her shudder. “Do you want me, Laya?”

She rocked her hips against him quicker. “Yes,” she could barely breathe, “I want you, all of you.” Their bodies fully met, and she let out a quiet gasp, as did he. Every sensation intensified with his lips roaming over her flesh, his hips moving in sync with hers. Even without their mate bond she still swore their emotions mixed: need, want, demand—filling her soul deep. Magic brushed down her spine, through her, like its own featherlight caress, the whisper of a forbidden lover in a crowded room.

“Promise me forever, Thane,” she said.

“Forever and always,” he said against her lips. “I will never stop loving you. I will never stop craving you.”

She closed her eyes, letting their connection soar. His moan vibrated through her core; the sensations of him made her feel lighter and heavier all at once, intoxicated. He grabbed her chin again with one hand forcing her to meet his gaze. “I want to look into your eyes when you say my name, when you let yourself go.”

“Thane,” she breathed. He slid his hands down her body, gripping under her thighs. A moment later he rose to his knees, lifting her with him. That careful delicacy he seemed to have when he touched her vanished and his movements turned eager, rapid. She sucked in a sharp breath; she was a rose on the verge of blooming. “Thane.” He shivered at his name on her lips, and she wrapped her body tighter around him in reaction.

“Let go, Laya,” his voice low, carnal in her ear, “let go.”

She could have been a shooting star, burning hotter and hotter, flashing brightest as it reached the crescendo of its final form before it slowly faded into darkness.

They held each other in heart-pounding silence, the fire crackling quietly in the background. She pushed wet hair off his forehead and then kissed his full lips gently.

“Damn,” he murmured with a smirk. “That was better than I remembered.” He sat back down in the tub, pulling her on top of him and ran his fingertips over her spine, eliciting goosebumps at his touch. “I love you, Laya.” He took hold of her hand and kissed the engagement ring he’d slid on her finger weeks before. “And one day soon, I will make it known to the world.”

Chapter17

Relaxing into Thane’s chest, Layala closed her eyes while he massaged her scalp and dragged his fingers through her hair with sweet pea and citrus-scented oil. She sighed at the pressure of his fingertips circling across her head. A couple firm knocks on the door, and she groaned. It was probably Alisara bringing the clothing but thoroughly interrupting her slice of serenity.

She sat up but Thane wrapped his arm across her breasts. “Stay with me.”

“Someone needs to get the door.”

He smirked and said loudly, “Come in.”

“Thane,” Layala balked. They were both completely nude in the bath. She’d gotten somewhat used to her own maids seeing her naked but not others.

The door handle pushed down, and a sliver of the hallway light peeked through the crack. Thane’s hold was relentless, so she relaxed against him once more, glancing down to make sure his arm covered her breasts fully. He wrapped his other around her, and they were large and muscular enough to cover most of her torso. Alisara and another lady with a much less extravagant dress stepped inside. Alisara froze mid stride, looking utterly baffled for a moment, and then she jerked her head away. “I apologize for the intrusion. I wasn’t aware you’d both be—indecent.”

“It’s fine,” Thane said and nibbled Layala’s earlobe. Layala shivered with the gentle touch. Maker above, he was devious. “Set the clothes on the bed. Thank you, ladies.”

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