“No,” her father put in, having recovered slightly. “Until this is resolved, and questions answered, I want my daughter here. We will protect her.”
“Due respect, King Aziros, that isn’t your decision any longer.”
“We will not accept this marriage,” her brother asserted firmly.
“The vows have been said, and the claiming has taken place, so you don’t have a say in that, either, Prince Axton.”
Her cheeks aflame, she twisted back to him. “My lord, please!”
He inclined his head, arms folded, which didn’t make him any less intimidating.
She came close to rolling her eyes at his stubborn arrogance but focused her energy on her equally obstinate brother instead. “Think, Axton. An alliance between our families can mean a lasting peace. We can end a millennium of near constant war and finally put a stop to both our peoples’ suffering.”
He shook his head, mouth set in a grim line, a sign his stubborn streak, as tenacious as the warlord’s, had dug in and this discussion was far from over. “It’s too great a sacrifice, Aurelia. We cannot ask this of you.”
“You didn’t ask, and I’m not sacrificing anything. I love him.”
His mouth softened as his lips parted in surprised. “After a few days? No.” He shook his head. “You are a young woman with her first infatuation and aren’t thinking clearly.”
She scowled at him. “Do you forget I’m as old as you, less a few minutes, not even a full hour, and you were married two springs past?”
“Son,” her father who hadn’t spoken in some time, broke in softly. “Look at her.”
“I am. This is happening too fast. You can’t be on her side.”
“You are not seeing what I am. Truly look at her! She’s glowing, like her mother did with me, and she can touch him without crying out in pain. Do you know how special a gift that is?” Her father’s gaze rose to the man standing at her back. “If you can give her that, a man from a world not her own, then surely she must be destined to be yours.”
“I have no doubt that is true,” Darios stated.
When Aurelia glanced at him, earnestness rather than arrogance radiated from his striking countenance, and she fell even more deeply in love with her warlord.
IN HER CHAMBER, AS soon as the door shut with a thud, Aurelia exclaimed, “I truly didn’t know.”
But that’s all she got out before she found her back to the wall, and Darios’ face in hers. “No talking,” he growled, his lips hovering only a fraction over hers. “After I’ve had you will be soon enough.”
“Yes, my lord,” she whispered, without a moment’s hesitation.
Feather-light, his mouth brushed hers, before he ordered, “Remove your clothes if you want to spare them.” He smothered her lips in a demanding all-too-brief kiss then stepped back and began to strip.
Breathing hard, she could only stare in that moment. It meant she got to see when he tossed his cloak aside. Next, he grabbed a fistful of his long-sleeved tunic at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head. While greedily taking in his glorious, bronzed, tattooed chest, something clicked in her head.
“You’re wearing clothes.”
“Naturally, unless covered in fur, one would have to in order to survive on this frozen world you call home.”
He said this without pausing his undressing. His hands dropped to his trousers, and he unfastened those, letting them slide down his thickly muscled legs, also adorned with beautiful images and swirling abstracts. In his haste, he’d failed to remove his boots and his trousers wouldn’t go further, so he sat on the bed to accomplish this task.
Despite the tension of their reunion and the highly charged meeting with her family, she grinned.
“I don’t find anything about this situation amusing, princess.”
“Neither do I, my lord,” she agreed, trying for a serious tone then burst into a nervous giggle proving herself a liar.
“Aurelia, when these boots come off, if you’re not naked, that dress will be in shreds. I want you that badly.”
“Oh, yes, it’s just that I’ve never seen you in clothes before.”
He barely glanced up after tugging one boot off and moving on to the next. “If I wore traditional garb on this frigid rock, as Iyo so eloquently put it, I’d freeze my balls off. I’d prefer to avoid that, considering I have plans for them in about five seconds.”
“Mm...” she replied, mesmerized with the play of muscles in his arms and broad shoulders as he ripped off his remaining boot.
“Aurelia,” he growled, as he came to his feet in a very naked and fully aroused state and stalked toward her.
“Yes, Darios?”
“Time’s up and you’re still dressed.”
With two fingers tucked into her neckline, he pulled her toward him.
“That’s fine. I’ve got plenty.”
His free hand rose to join the other and, with a loud rip, he rent her gown in two as well as the warm sheath she wore beneath it. After tossing the remnants aside, his hands were on her, seemingly everywhere at once, over her breasts, her sides, over hips, and around in back to squeeze her bottom and pull her hips against his.
When the hardness of his shaft nudged her belly, her lips parted as her breath caught in her throat. Like she’d given him an engraved invitation, his mouth swooped down, and his tongue took possession. While she reveled in the scorching intensity of his kiss, she ran her hands over his incredible body, convinced she got as much out of stroking the smooth skin over his bulging biceps, along his broad, sculpted shoulders, and down his sleek back as he did, if not more.
Without breaking the claim he had on her mouth, he lifted and carried her. To where, she didn’t care, too busy scraping her nails up the hard muscles of his back, to his neck, and through the short hair at the back of his head. Her fingers speared into the softer strands on top luxuriating in its softness—probably the only thing that could possibly be described as soft on this powerful, incredible man.
She held on tight when he turned and sat on the edge of her bed then fell back on the pale-pink bed cover—the incongruity of the warlord swathed in pink she reserved to entertain her later—and rolled so their positions were reversed, her stretched out flat with him above her.
His chest pressed her upper body into the softness of the bed while his knees spread her legs wide, making room for the rest of him. The hard length of him nudged between her thighs as he settled over her. She raised her hips, meeting his and speaking her readiness without words. Except he wasn’t quite done with the preliminaries and slid his hands up her belly, over her breasts, pausing to roll her tight nipples, but only briefly before moving on to her shoulders. There he shifted his hands beneath her arms and in a slow glide raised them over her head, not stopping until they encircled her wrists.
His eyes glittered brightly, more so than the fire crackling in the hearth, one that hadn’t been there when they entered the room. The cause could only be Darios, the romantic—proving what little Axton knew.
“Before we go any further, we’re going to clarify something I thought was settled. You are mine, Aurelia of Aeldor, now of Voltarre, my affirmed wife, the one meant for me, the bride of my heart. As your king correctly explained, this unbreakable vow binds our union unto death. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Darios.”
“Do you have any questions? Any key points you don’t fully comprehend?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then I won’t have to hear you deny you are mine ever again.” This was a statement of fact, not up for debate. “I’ll hear the same affirmation from you now, Wife.”
He said this with resolute confidence not expecting her to do anything but comply.
Despite being dictatorial, arrogant, and demanding, he made her heart race, her body heat where it had only been cold before, and he was the only man she could envision herself wanting for the rest of her lifetime. He also made her laugh, piqued her anger, and frustrated her f
aster than anyone of her acquaintance, but she did the same for him, so life with Darios would not be dull.
Although saying yes to him would change everything she knew in the blink of an eye, it felt right, and she had no qualms about giving herself fully to him, forever.
Therefore, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, she did as he ordered.
“I am yours, Darios of Voltarre, my affirmed husband, the one meant for me, the husband of my heart, until death.”
He was grinning by the time she finished.
“Did I forget something?”
“Our women usually claim we are theirs as well, but I believe I like your way better. From your lips, you are mine.”
He lowered his head.
“Wait. Maybe I should do it over.”
“Not a chance. It’s done. Besides,” his tongue teased along the curve of her lower lip before he murmured, “I’m ready for the further.”
“Just as long as it took this time. I don’t want my saying it wrong to muck up our destiny.”
“Impossible.” His head popped up, his lips still curved in a devastating smile. “One other thing, the of my heart is usually reserved for the bride.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
He shrugged his incredibly broad shoulders and went back to licking and nibbling. “It’s a centuries-old tradition.”
“Maybe I’ll start a new one.”
“Go for it.” His low laugh, which sent tremors of excitement coursing through her, was a complete turnaround from no more than an hour ago when he looked ready to throttle her. “You’ll have to get started on it later, however, because in a second I’m going to seal our vow—for this second time—with more than words.”
“I think I can wait.”
“Thank you.” His lips trailed across her cheek and, with his hands still pinning her wrists to the bed, he used his chin to brush aside her hair and nibble on her ear this time. He seemed content to take his time now, the urgency he’d shown when they first entered the room replaced by this slow, methodical Darios. But he’d already stoked the flames of her passion, and her desire for him burned hot.
She shifted restlessly beneath him. “Darios?”
“Yes, Wife?”
“A second has passed.”
His head came up, and the golden spark in his devastating eyes revealed his fire still smoldered. “Are you asking for something, Aurelia?”
“I’m ready for further, too. Maybe we can do slow and take forever the second time?”
Without looking away, he adjusted the position of his hips, aligned the tip of his shaft with her entrance, and slid home in one thrust. “I have no problem putting off slow for the second round.” He withdrew and sank deep again. “Or until the third, or the fourth.”
She raised her head from the pillow, her lips seeking his. “No more talking, then,” she moaned into his mouth as he lowered his head and met her halfway. “After you have me, time number four will be soon enough.”
His cock surged into her, searing her like a brand, and he kept at it, plunging into her wetness, filling her again and again. He didn’t slow or speak as he drove her body to the brink of ecstasy, but he did release her hands and slide his own beneath her thighs, pushing her knees clear to her chest. Stretching to accommodate him, her sheath accepted this all-encompassing invasion—and she loved it. When he resumed, each thrust plumbed deep and filled her completely.
She couldn’t move, think, and was barely able to breathe, but she could feel all of him.
Ecstasy shot through her and, as her back arched and her toes curled, she rippled all around him, pulling him over the edge with her. Since her hands were free, they swept over his shoulders, her arms entwining around his neck, and as his own pleasure took hold, and his body shuddered, Aurelia buried her face in his neck and rode out orgasm number two along with him.
Chapter Sixteen
LATE THE NEXT MORNING, long past time for the morning meal, and after climax number five for her, but only three for him—oh, the joys of being a woman who could come to fulfillment over and over, and over—she and Darios descended the back stairs to the kitchen. They walked hand in hand, stomachs growling, but completely content.
As they rounded the last landing, Aurelia heard a familiar voice and skidded to a stop. She’d do anything to avoid her sister-in-law. While her brakes worked, they had no effect on her much-larger husband who kept right on going. He was too big to miss, therefore, she had no choice but to follow him around the corner.
He shot her a questioning look, but she shook her head and plastered on a broad smile.
In the midst of a conversation with one of the guards, Sidrah quickly dismissed the man when she saw them.
“Aurelia,” she said in greeting. “I was just heading to the kitchen to discuss the supper meal. It will be a feast in your honor.” In afterthought, she nodded at Darios. “And the warlord’s, too, of course, to celebrate your marriage. The preparations will be impromptu like your nuptials, but we’ll do our best.”
Though stated with a smile, she recognized the not-so-subtle dig whether Darios noticed or not.
The squeeze on her fingers as he tensed told her he was as astute as she’d suspected.
“Oh, there’s the baker,” Sidrah exclaimed suddenly. “I wanted to discuss the dessert.”
She nodded regally, something Aurelia knew she had practiced because, although born to a wealthy family, her father a scientist who lived in the capital and her mother a merchant’s daughter, Sidrah didn’t have a drop of royal blood running through her veins.
As she walked away, Darios, proving he didn’t miss anything, observed, “She’s a lot of show and not much substance.”
“Exactly!” she replied. “And she hasn’t ever taken an interest in meal preparations other than the food is served on time and at the temperature she prefers. My father must have asked her to see to this. Sidrah strives to accommodate no one else, including her husband.”
“Do I detect animosity?”
“I never understood what Axton sees in her.”
“I would think it obvious.”
She shot him an annoyed look. Sidrah was beautiful, with a pinkness of color to her lips and skin, which surely came from a brush and cosmetics, but she applied it so artfully it seemed natural. Her blonde hair had a hint of gold rather than her own silver, and she ample curves.
Since her brother had married, she’d felt invisible beside the future queen. Having Darios notice her attributes made her own seem lacking. She bristled, and her tone sharpened in response.
“Perhaps you jumped the gun, my lord. You should have held out for larger breasts and rounder hips. I could have introduced you to scores of Aeldorian women who favor the future queen if she is more your taste.”
His grunt brimmed with annoyance. “After I had you four times last night, how can you suggest I’m not satisfied with my bride?”
She sniffed, somewhat appeased, but a lifetime of insecurity was hard to overcome quickly. “I’m shorter than most, and on the slender side, which doesn’t lean toward being...” she waved her hand vaguely at her breasts, “well...ample.”
“Your height suits me fine, and I can lift you up to mine if need be. Your breasts fit perfectly in my palms and when your nipples are peaked, they are a very nice mouthful. What you feel you don’t have up top—your claim not mine—is compensated for with a delightfully round backside.”
He pulled her into his arms and slid his hands down her back to palm the aforementioned roundness.
“Someone will see.”
“Do I care?” he countered, while crowding her against the wall. “More importantly, why do you?”
He spread open-mouthed kisses along the side of her neck. She angled her head, encouraging more, and trembled as his lips moved hot and slow from her throat to the spot behind her ear. He took his fill there then cupped her jaw and turned her face back to him. His tongued plunged inside her mouth, reclaiming it. Whe
n she was breathless and moving restlessly against him, he raised his head and gazed down at her.
“Your brother’s wife pales in comparison to you, princess. Where she is cool and pale, you shine warmly with an inner light, which for a Voltarrean man is essential. And you must know I crave your body because I can’t get enough of it. If I could create a bride from my fantasies, she would be you.”
“I can’t believe my father thought you unromantic,” she replied when she could speak.
“So, this nonsense of me wanting another is settled, then?”
“Hardly.” Her hands bracketed his face. With him fully dressed in deference to the cold weather it was all she the skin she could find, but she needed more. Rising onto her tiptoes, she did as he had just done, and trailed her lips down his throat and along the side of his neck. Her tongue darted out to trace the scrolled marking visible above his collar. “I think we need to retire to my chamber to discuss it further.”
“Is that so?” One of his hands moved up her side to her breast, and his thumb swept out to drag slowly across her tautened nipple.
“Yes. Who needs food?”
“Tell the king we will join him at the midday meal,” Darios informed someone as he swept her up in his arms. She didn’t dare peek to see who it was, afraid her embarrassment over being discovered in a passionate clench in a common corridor would abruptly end things.
Not that Darios would ever allow it, thank goodness.
As he carried her back upstairs to her rooms, she marveled over how much more interesting, and engaging, life was when she made touch a part of it—and her amorous, insatiable warlord, of course.
THEY ENDED UP SENDING their regrets for lunch as well but showed up early for supper that evening both with ravenous appetites. Darios more so than Aurelia who had nervous flutters in her stomach about facing her family after spending nearly the last twenty-four hours hibernating in her room with her new husband. Her telltale blushes confirmed to everyone, though it was hardly necessary, what they had been up to.
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