Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(54)
She reached for him, sliding her legs down his strong body until his length brushed against her folds. Tremors of want pulsated through her body. “Yours.”
With a low growl, he pulled her down onto his shaft, joining them. Rosalind hissed at the fullness of him inside her, her body stretching to accommodate his width. He moved slowly, easing himself in farther. Pausing. Easing.
“More,” she whispered, no longer afraid to make her desires known to him, to fight the attraction she felt since first they met.
“As you wish.” With a final thrust, he filled her to bursting.
Rosalind’s cry of pleasure rang out across the water.
Jaxon tore off her soaking blouse and leaned her back into the water to gain access to her breasts. He nipped and tasted while his hips settled into a slow rhythm with hers. She wrapped her legs about him, urging him for more.
“Patience, my tigress.”
Still buried deep within, Jaxon floated them toward shallower waters. Soon she was stretched upon the streambed, naked, hands over her head entwined with his and water lapping at their joined bodies. The prince glided his long, lean body along hers, eyes closed in deep concentration. Their hips resumed their same methodic rhythm, only this time its speed began to increase as desire drove them closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
“Yes,” she purred, arching up with pleasure. He dipped to claim one peak, suckling and teasing. She arched higher, urging him on. The suction broke as he dipped to claim the other. In that moment her climax came, crashing down upon her as she’d never experienced before. She was drowning.
Drowning in pleasure, in need, in touch.
Jaxon drove into her with a roar, then, his own climax triggered by hers. Spasms rippled through his body, the movements adding to her aftershocks. Spent and breathless, he hovered over her a moment more. Nipped at and then gently kissed her lips, then withdrew and lay down beside her with one arm wrapped possessively across her waist.
Rather than push him away and hurry off as she had done with every lover in the past, Rosalind turned and curled into his side. With a smile that shone of great satisfaction, he pulled her closer still, so that her ear rested upon his heart. A contented purr rattled within his chest.
This.
This was what she had been searching for all along. Perhaps Jaxon was right. Perhaps they were destined to be mates. And if that were the case, then she no longer had any use for Edana’s throne.
Or disloyal former lovers.
She closed her eyes and relaxed into Jaxon, savoring his warmth and the peace it offered. At daybreak, she would tell the queen her magic was no longer required. Because instead of revenge, what Rosalind now truly desired was to explore an emotion formerly foreign to her:
Joy.
Chapter 30
Addie stared out a broken window as the pink of dawn filtered through the surrounding wilderness, trying to find her inner calm. A wasted effort, as she was about to endure a barbaric ritual unheard of in the modern world. At least, unheard of in the civilized modern world.
Too bad that wasn’t where she lived anymore.
She heard the men talking in low voices across the room, Zayne apparently no longer asleep. Addie had tried to keep her distance from him this last hour or so, allowing him as much rest as possible. But Haelan had grown impatient and insisted her betrothed be awakened so they could “get on with it.”
Berinon, peculiar as he was, she liked.
Forath’s high wizard? Not so much.
The tall, raven-haired man had glowered at them from the moment of his arrival, his midnight blue robe whispering along the floor as he paced about. And though his frequent arm gestures momentarily revealed pale arms that looked no stronger than twigs, the bulk of his power seemed to reside in his glare. Twice now he had silenced both Tristan and Quinn in their questioning with a single look. He had little patience for any of them, and not a stitch of empathy to their situation. It was rare for Addie to dislike anyone she had just met, but this guy took the cake.
“Adelaide.”
She jumped at Zayne’s voice so close to her ear and spun to face him. The shadows beneath his eyes were lighter today, thanks to Haelan’s potion from last night. But a weakness still shone in his posture, the scars still an angry red across his chest. Scars that she would soon help disappear with their healing, if she could ever get past the urge to run screaming from the building.
“You’re awake.” She grimaced at the voicing of her brilliant observation. “It’s, uh, good to see you upright again.”
“Aye, and good to be upright once again.”
“How do you feel?” She cupped his chin. Like a cat, he leaned into her touch with closed eyes, then raised a hand to cover hers.
“A bit stiff and sore, but bucksamill better.”
“Bucks-a-mill?”
His eyes reopened, their topaz depths shining below furrowed brows. “Is that not the phrase you used after recovering from our first celebration with my men at Godfrey Manor? Bucksamill?”
“Bucksamill, bucksamill… Oh—feeling like a million bucks.” She laughed, his mispronunciation bringing much-needed levity to her morning. “Close, but no cigar.”
His right brow arched, and she knew she’d lost him again. Addie stretched onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”