Page 38 of The Crowned Fae Queen
He bows his head till our foreheads touch, and his words can be felt against my parted, wanting mouth. “Goddess, Syren. You are so fucking...” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “You’re so fucking reckless. And... incredible.”
A curved finger lifts my chin to him. His arms pinning me so tightly to his body. At the moment, my magic seems to curl against the bond, splashing like waves against his heat as they dissolve into mist that fuels our want. The surge of magic is so strong, I can taste the sea salt on my lips.
Droplets of water form in the air around us; they bead against our skin. Sunlight from the cracked curtains bounces off the water around us till they look like hanging crystals strung throughout the atmosphere. Our magic calls us to one another in a way I have never felt before. But I need this. We need this.
Roughly, our lips collide, parting only for the rolling slip of our tongues. I grab ahold of him, my fingers digging into clothing as I pull him as close as I can. With confidence, I pluck away at the buttons of his shirt. Iri shrugs off the jacket, gasping for air before our lips meet once more.
It’s a wild need that needs to be met. The churning feeling of desired pleasure that wets between my legs. Red material falls away from his chest, then soon his legs. His belt buckle easy enough to undo before I tug both layers down.
Our naked bodies meet, his cock hard and ready, pressing against me. I mean to reach for him, to stroke the inches of him that I need so badly, but he doesn’t let me. Iri presses me into the wardrobe door. His teeth nip at my neck, his hands grazing my breasts.
He’s claiming. Right now, it feels every bit like a fiery claim of a powerful mate.
In one swift movement, he pulls me into his arms, picking my legs up off the ground and sliding his cock inside of me. I gasp at the suddenness of it. He hums his pleasure, flashing a devilish smile before he rocks me against the wardrobe.
My hands travel over his scars then twine into his thick hair. But it’s only for a second before I reach behind me to hold the top of the wardrobe. The wood shakes with us, loudly tapping against the wall. I don’t care who hears. I don’t care what people say.
Iri plunges into me once more. Gravity pushes me down on him till he is fully inside me and thrusting me back up with the jerk of his hips. My body sings, tightening around him as we grind in rhythm together.
Every inch of him is as deep as he possibly can go, and with every hard thrust he gives, my breath is stolen from my lungs. And he watches. He watches the air he steals from me with hooded sexy eyes. He does it over and over and over again. His pleasure seems to derive from the simple way my nails sink into his skin, the way he makes my body hot and tight against him. He seems completely enamored with the way he affects me at this moment.
My lips part with a moan, an orgasm building to climax. Iri growls, pushing into me faster and faster. A slick slapping as he pounds against me harder and harder, making a chorus with the wardrobe that taps the wall.
Everything in me shatters. It’s reckless. It’s beautiful.
Just like us.
Iri groans, pushing me tighter between him and the wardrobe. His arms curl over my shoulders to keep me from bouncing too high and to allow him to push deeper within me.
His breath hitches, a tremble traveling through him. The powerful strength of his orgasm travels so intensely between us, it sends me over the edge yet again.
And I cry out, unable to contain it.
Iri’s hips slow until he pulls himself out of me and sets me back down. He watches me with contentment. His hands press slick against my back, sliding lower and lower down my spine. It calls to a memory that slips into our thoughts, shared between us.
Stone features manicured to the likeness of Goddess Celeste. A vase meant to hold the powers of the universe just to be poured into the world. To create our world. Or so the story is told for those who believe in the power of Goddess Celeste instead of her rival Goddess Nature.
I can picture the intricate carvings of the continents etched against the pale stone. The shine of water as it glints off of it and splashes into the pool. Water shines off of Iri, too. Naked except for the thin pair of underwear, and a cunning look of want mixed with hate transcribed on his face.
He touches me, sending shivers down my spine. I can feel the strength of the memory heighten. The starless smell of his desire, like he burned the light from the sky. Nearness of his lips and the half a thought to taste them.
Iri’s lips tweak into a small smile. The memory of my thoughts traveling through his mind.Would his kiss be as blessed as he says he is or as cursed as these plagued lands?
I know the answer now. His kisses are sweet blessings that drive a sense of pleasure straight to my lady bits.Glorious.
If only his physique was shining in the dripping water of that fountain he was so proud of. It was a feat of engineering that he was able to get it up and running for more than just the capital. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to play in the fountain that runs plumbing to his entire kingdom. Is that considered contamination?
Contamination.
Contamination of the whole Northern Kingdom.
Fuck me.
Iri’s lips hover near mine, but I yank myself backward, smacking my head against the wardrobe.
“It’s the water.”
Iri’s eyes widen as the thoughts travel through the bond, and my words register at the same time.
