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I throw my leg over his hip.
He catches it and spanks my bottom.
“I will not last five spans to the season’s end. I will not last to the count of five. Please, D’Artaron.”
“You’re stronger than you know.”
“Not everyone has your iron will or your stamina.”
“They don’t, but you do.” He looks at me. “You do, Chloe. It’s what makes you perfect for me. You were willing to allow me time to complete my duties and return to you, without asking or ordering me or giving me any ultimatums. You acted like a mature queen, not a petulant, hurt girl, and you’ve given me much-needed space to come to terms with how I feel about you.” He takes my hand and puts it over his heart. “I’m honored you have chosen me.”
“I think you should stop telling me nice things, or I’ll just keep crying.”
He smiles, touches the top of his head, and feels his protruding horns. “Those aren’t going away anytime soon.”
“Show them to me.”
“You wish to see my battle form?”
Do I ever! I try to sound calm. “Yes, I do. I want to see it.” Mmhm.
He slaps my bottom, grips it, and hauls me up to lie on top of him. As his horns grow, the uniform starts to rip at the seams, and D’Artaron allows me to see his battle form. It is a glorious warrior fae form, with horns and bulging muscles primed for combat.
“The only people who have seen this side of me,” he says, his voice a deep rasp, “aren’t alive anymore.”
“My, my, soldier, what big teeth you have.”
“The better to eat you with.” He flips me over, spreads my legs, and does just that.
39
CHLOE
Since D’Artaron’s return, the palace has sprung to life in a way I’d not expected. It turns out the staff prefer his military approach to routine and structure, especially in these chaotic times of preparing for the royal wedding. All decisions are handled by D’Artaron. He even picked out the menu.
I’m occupied with nothing more than being orally pleased by him. He brings me breakfast, lunch, and dinner and eats me out during all those times, to the point where I start wondering if he consumes anything other than my orgasms.
For his health, I would hope he does eat, but also that he doesn’t, so he can continue spoiling me this way. And many other ways. Like taking over the ruling of the court. When you live and breathe authority and dominance the way he does, people sense it. A crown on his head is just a confirmation, a mere acknowledgment of what everyone already knows.
D’Artaron is our king.
I think people knew it before I knew it, before anyone knew it, and definitely before he came to terms with it. The people might not have known they wanted him, but when they saw him at the gates pushing back against their invasion, they understood his power and fairness. Naturally, that commands respect.
His honed kinetic magic and his ability to carry some of mine means our kingdom will inherit powerful bloodlines.
When we have children.
I think about them often.
What will they be like? Who will they look like? I think about them often because I look forward to the act of making them probably as much as any other girl in the kingdom. Maybe more, since I’ve never done it, and since it’ll be D’Artaron who I’ll do it with.
But first, I must pick out my wedding dress.
Now, I sit on the floor in yet another wedding gown, crying ugly tears because I can’t find the right one, the one I love more than any other, the one that feels as if I belong in it. I’m seeking the beautiful dress, and it must be the one that D’Artaron will fall in love with and want to tear off my body all at the same time.
I seek the unicorn.
“Chloe,” my sister says with a long sigh. She’s so frustrated with me and resigned now that she doesn’t even care that she’s addressing me by my given name instead of my title.
