Page 149 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"You have taught me that I hate patience when it comes to you."
"Fair enough." He slid two fingers inside me without warning, and I cried out. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes," I breathed, my hips moving against his hand. "More."
"Greedy thing." But he added a third finger, stretching me, his thumb finding my clit with practiced ease. "You take me so well. Like you were made for this."
I was already close, wound too tight from weeks of stress and responsibility and grief that I'd been carrying alone until I fell into this bed each night. Here, with him, I could finally let go. Could finally stop being the High Sovereign and just be Mira.
"Not yet," he said, sensing how close I was. He withdrew his hand, and I made a sound of protest that would have embarrassed me if I cared about dignity right now.
"I want you inside me," I told him, reaching for his cock. He was hard and heavy in my hand, and the sound he made when I stroked him was pure satisfaction. "Now, Zydar."
"So demanding." He positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against me. "What happened to my sweet little dove?"
"She learned from the best." I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. "Now are you going to fuck me, or do I need to find someone who will?"
His eyes flashed dangerously. "Those words will get you punished."
He slammed into me in one brutal thrust that stole my breath. I loved it. Loved the way he filled me completely, loved the slight burn of the stretch, loved how he never held back with me anymore.
"This what you wanted?" he growled, pulling out and driving back in just as hard. "To be fucked like you belong to me?"
"I do belong to you," I gasped. "And you belong to me."
Something shifted in his expression, softening even as his movements remained rough. "Yes," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Always."
He set a punishing pace, and I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies moving together like we had been doing this for centuries instead of months. Every time felt new and familiar all at once, like coming home to a place I had never known I was searching for.
We'd switched positions so I was straddling him. I loved looking down at him, his dark hair spilling across the white pillows, his red eyes burning into mine.
And gods, the look on his face. Like I was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, like every word I spoke was a revelation.
It was addicting. Terrifying. Exhilarating.
"Guide me," I said softly.
His hands found my hips, warm and possessive. "Take what you need, little dove. Take everything."
I positioned myself above him, feeling the head of his cock press against my entrance. The golden light that lived beneath my skin began to glow, responding to my desire, to the connection between us. It always did this now, ever since I'd ascended. As if my body could not contain the power when I felt things too intensely.
I sank down onto him slowly, savoring every inch. The stretch was perfect, the fullness complete. His fingers tightened on my hips hard enough to bruise, and electricity sparked where his skin touched mine.
"Mira," he breathed, his voice strained. "You are so beautiful like this."
I began to move, rising and falling in a rhythm that made us both gasp. The light beneath my skin grew brighter with each movement, casting golden shadows across the room. His own power answered mine, lightning crackling along his arms, his chest, dancing across his skin.
"Faster," he commanded, his voice taking on that dark edge I loved. "Show me what a queen looks like when she takes her pleasure."
I obeyed, moving faster, harder, chasing the building pressure low in my belly. My hair lifted around me as if caught in an invisible wind, glowing strands floating like spun gold. Power poured off me in waves, making the windows rattle, making the very air hum.
Zydar sat up, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest. His wings burst free, spreading wide before curling around us both, creating a cocoon of shadow and light. Inside this private world, our magic intensified, feeding off each other, building toward something explosive.
"I can feel your power," he growled against my throat. "You're close, aren't you?"
"So close." I raked my nails down his back, making him shudder.
His hand found my throat, not squeezing but holding, claiming. The dominance in that gesture sent heat spiraling through me.
