Page 70 of Golden Queen
It was madness and ecstasy and greed. The ache that should have been sated once he was buried deep inside me, only pulsed louder and more insistent as I began to needmore. "Io, please," I moaned, but I barely knew what I was asking for.
I arched up to meet him, pushing our bodies together, urging him to move.
And then he did. He let go of his restraint and slid into me. I realized he had not been all the way inside as he finally filled me, pushing against an ache that I had not known I felt. I cried out again, unable to stifle the breathless moan of his name on my lips.
He pulled out and slid back inside in quick succession, and then again and again. That throbbing center inside me built and reached a peak, but instead of ebbing, it continued, muscles coiling, pressure rising.
"Fuck, Sera," he ground out as he continued to move his hips, each long, delicious slide stoking some primal need for the next.
And then, as I felt something inside me might snap from the pressure, compounding waves of ecstasy rolled through me, making my body shudder.
I moaned, cried out, pleaded, as my upper body rose up from the bed. My lips found his shoulder where I sank my teeth into his skin, desperate and consumed.
But the pleasure did not end. More and more it rushed through me until I fell back to the bed, crying out in a harsh sound that edged on pain, but was born of pure, unadulterated pleasure as I climaxed again.
He slid into me once more as the hand on my cheek grew warm with a delicious heat that spilled into my skin, making some strange relief wash through me, seeming to banish every dark thought or feeling I had ever had.
Brilliant golden light obscured my vision just before he jerked his hand away, planting it on the sheet beside my head. I heard his deep, almost angry growl in my ears as he reached his own release, while I lay floating in a peace that still invaded my mind like warm sunshine on a summer day.
And then his hands were on my face, and even while still buried inside me, he turned my face this way and that.
Realizing my eyes had fluttered closed at some point, I opened them to see a shocked expression on his face as both his gaze and his fingers roamed over my skin.
He seemed to finally see whatever it was he was looking for as he released a breath.
His shoulders relaxed as he leaned his forehead against mine. "I thought I burned you," he admitted. He closed his eyes and released another long breath.
"You didn't," I assured him, laying my hand against his cheek and raising my lips to his.
He kissed me lightly, letting his lips glide over mine, and then he wrapped his arms around me and rolled, bringing me up onto his chest, our bodies still joined.
He put his arms around me as I lay against his solid, warmth. I heard his heartbeat, racing as much as mine, I realized with a small bit of satisfaction.
My eyes started to drift closed, but then I noticed a slight burning smell, and my gaze shot to the bed beside him. A charred, fisted handprint lay against the pristine white sheet. A tendril of barely visible smoke wafted up from the fabric.
I pushed myself up to see the corresponding handprint on the other side. The light I saw had been fire—not just his magic, I realized with amazement. His words began to make sense.
I looked up at him, and he smiled, almost apologetically. "You burned the bed," I said with an incredulous smile.
"I thought I burnedyou," he said, shaking his head. "I don't normally lose control of myself like that. At least not since I was a teenager," he added, with a wry grin.
I couldn't help the look of satisfaction that crossed my features.
He arched a brow. "You like that, do you?" he asked.
"Maybe," I told him coyly.
His face grew more serious. "I don't care to admit it scared the hell out of me. I didn't think I'd gotten my hand away in time, especially once I smelled the burning sheets."
I looked at him curiously. "You didn't get your hand away. I felt it. It was..." I closed my eyes, remembering the warmth and wishing I could recapture how it hadfelt. I opened my eyes again to see his face had gone to puzzlement. "It was wonderful," I told him, simply.
"That's not possible," he said, sitting up and pulling my legs around him so that I was straddling him. "What exactly did you feel?"
I laid my hands on his chest, my body responding to the feeling of him still inside me, even as the rigidness had begun to bleed away.
"It felt warm," I said. "And peaceful—like laying in the sunshine on a sunny day. Like the sun seeped into my mind and pushed away every shadow that ever existed in there. I think...I think it's still there, because I don't think I have ever felt so at ease in my entire life." I felt almost immediate embarrassment at the admission, especially as I saw him staring at me as though I had grown horns and a tail while he watched.
"That's simply not...possible," he said again.
