Chapter Eighteen

 

Daphne snuck through the palace, casting spells on all the guards. To get to royal chambers, it seemed, she needed every drop of magic she possessed. But she had a plan and if little Miss Goodie Goodie and the prince were going to live happily ever after, they were going to need her help. Finally, she stood before the door that, on her map, should be Kayden’s.

Breathing out, she slowly opened the door and found the two of them in bed—like it was their honeymoon or something—wrapped up in each other. She stood there for a moment, hidden in shadow, before turning and walking back out.

Maybe Emily didn’t need her. She found her man. She was happy.

And Daphne, like always, was left alone. Growing up, she almost felt an affinity with Princess Pudge. Everyone hated Emily, but no one knew Daphne was there unless they needed something done.

Which is worse—being ignored or hated? But maybe they didn’t have as much in common as Daphne thought. Did Emily really need an older sister who worried about her, when she had the wonderful Kayden to keep her warm? Jealousy. Daphne recognized the curling feeling in her stomach for what it was and owned it.

But there was something she could do that would help Emily and Kayden, whether they needed her or not. Probably this would have been easier if she’d gotten their go-ahead first, but she could do it alone.

Using her map—GPS was to be preferred, to be honest—she found the king’s bedroom and snuck in. The room smelled like autumn leaves and soap. Whatever spells the healers tried on the king, they left no lingering scent to hide the smell of the dying magician. Moving to his bedside, she half wished she had a family, one that cared.

Shoving her uncharacteristic moping thoughts aside, she took the green vial out of her bra and popped the top. “Bottoms up, Kingy-poo.”

Pinching his nose, she ensured the king swallowed the fluid and turned.

To find herself at the wrong end of a sword.

“You’ll be hanged for this, South Seas traitor.” The man was hot, if stupid, and she glared back at him.

“Hanged for what, exactly?”

“Poisoning the king. How long have you been filling him with your evil potions, witch?”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne lifted her hands. “Look, you totally have the wrong south seas bitch here, fella.”

“Silence. You’ll be hanged before the sun sets today.”

Another guard moved forward and Daphne considered her options.

“Emily—” she began.

“Silence, witch. We’ll not be disturbing the prince and his bride today. They’ve only just been wed.”

“Fuck.”

****

Backing away from his nipple, Emily dared to trace her hand along her husband’s chest.

My husband.

The newness of the word hadn’t worn off and the thought that all of his lovely male flesh was hers, for the rest of her life, tempted her. She wanted to explore it. When her fingers slipped low enough to trace lightly along his belly, he sucked in a breath and reached for her.

“Nope,” she commanded. “It’s my turn. I want to touch you.”

He lay back, eyes going molten amber. “I can’t complain. I have longed for your hands on my skin.”

She sat up, better able to touch him, and pushed at his shoulder. “I can’t do it with you looking at me. Roll over.”

He complied, laughing at her, but when she copied his earlier move and straddled his body, he went quiet. His breathing sped, pleasing her. He wanted her. It was a powerful feeling, him wanting her.

She dragged her fingertips down, using just a little nail, and he sighed. Tracing the lines of musculature on his back, she kissed and nibbled her way across the broad expanse. He was a beautiful man. Tracing lower, she repeated his kiss on the base of her spine and then touched his ass.

It bunched up beneath her fingertips and she giggled. Sliding lower, to trace the powerful line of his thighs, Emily pushed his legs further apart. Kayden cooperated, only saying, “Still exploring?”

“Yep,” she agreed, and kissed the head of his penis.

He jerked, knuckles going white on the sheets.

Touching his balls, she licked the line of his cock, teasing him, until he rolled and almost toppled her.

“You’re interrupting my exploring—” she began, but he captured her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

The kiss enchanted her more than any spell could hope to. When his hand found her breast, she sighed and struggled to move closer to him.

He pulled her onto his lap, settling her legs around his waist. “Fuck your exploring. I want my wife.”

She couldn’t argue.

The feel of him, between her spread legs, tempting at her hot slit teased her. She wriggled against him and he weighed her breasts in his hands as if he had all the time in the world. She almost believed his control until he met her gaze and she saw the flash of raw need there.

The expression on his face sent a wave of white-hot heat through her, moisture gathering between her legs so that she rubbed harder against him, begging for his touch. Then he squeezed her nipples and she kissed the line of his jaw.

“To bond,” he advised, “We both have to let go, surrender to each other.”

“So surrender. But if you don’t take me soon, I’m going to get cranky.”

He lifted his hips, plunging inside her, and her eyes closed on a moan. He filled her up, almost too full, and soaked into every pore of her being. Control her magic? Yeah, she couldn’t even control her breathing, gasping at the sheer pleasure his body brought hers. His arms held her, steel bands she could depend on, and when he moved, she moved with him.

The dance might be old as time, but sparkled new as their marriage. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted. He arched his hips and plunged deep when she allowed herself to rock back. After a moment, he became frustrated with the little movement allowed him and pushed her back, breaking the contact. She mewled out a complaint.

He soon joined her again, pushing her legs up so he could go deeper, and she cried out his name as the tension inside her arced higher.

She felt the light of her power twirl out of her as she spun off the edgy peak of desire, tumbling in an orgasm so fast and hard it left her digging her nails into his back. And still he pushed, his hands seeming to be everywhere, his mouth teasing her, his cock rocking her higher before she’d had a chance to catch her breath.

His power, an almost green light, shimmered around him, and she licked at it, rubbed it off so it stuck like strands of cotton candy to her fingertips. Laughing, she opened up, letting him in her body, in her gift, in her heart.

His eyes closed and he whispered, “I love you, Emily. I think I’ve always loved you.”

And then he increased his pace, his power rippling off him with each thrust to mate with hers. Where their power touched, gold shimmered or maybe she couldn’t see past the haze of need that left her legs shaking, her heart racing.

Slick with sweat, they raced to the finish. His patience earlier vanished as his eyes closed and his lips sought hers. Meeting his kiss, his tongue echoed the movement of his hips, pressing into her, demanding her answer.

And then it shimmered, and they both seemed to pause for a moment. Gold surrounded them like a cocoon of light and his gaze met hers.

As if by mutual consent, Emily whispered, “I give myself to you,” as he said the same words. If they were part of some ritualistic bonding, no one told her before, but the words needed saying.

Kayden moved again and she shattered, screaming as the orgasm overtook her. He trembled above her, face taut as he joined her in the tumble off the edge. Raising one hand, she stroked his face and he turned his head, kissing her palm.

Then like the snap of a rubber band, she felt him. Like he was still inside her even though he was pulling out gently. He tugged her close to his chest and it was like their hearts beat as one.

She could feel him, in her mind, and pulled him close, there, too.

The gold seemed to settle, as if they inhaled the glitter dancing in the light, and it soaked into them until the room stilled, silver glinting in the sunlight.

“So, we’re bonded?”

Yeah, I think so. His answer rumbled through her head as he nuzzled at her neck.

You’re talking in my head again. It wasn’t a question. He was there.

I haven’t gotten my voice back yet. Woman, I’m not sure how you can speak already. I’m still trying to breathe.

Well, you did do most of the work. Grinning inside, she rubbed his back.

Yeah, well, if you can talk, I need to do a bit more. He bit her shoulder and she laughed, looking at him.

This is better than riding a dragon, she confessed.

His laughter joined hers and she couldn’t imagine anything that could shatter their joy.