I considered that idea for a moment before reaching up to carefully thread my fingers through his silky dark curls. My grip tightened, and I grinned in unexpected pleasure at the way he closed his eyes and his throat bobbed as he became pliant. It was almost as if he actually enjoyed it when I took control of him.
“On your knees,” I ordered. I exerted more pressure on his hair and watched in satisfaction as he sank obediently before me with his wings lowered in submission.
I released him and slipped off my desk to remove the tattered dress so I stood over him in nothing but stockings and garters as I reached down to grip his hair again.
“Now grovel,” I commanded and tugged on his hair to direct him so he knew exactly what I wanted.
A near-feral growl rumbled out of him as he sat up to pin me against my desk. All mental barriers disintegrated, and he flooded my mind with savage desperation for me. For my body and my taste. Riordan pushed his shoulders between my thighs to force my legs open wide, and then he descended on my sex like a starving man.
I cried out at the ferocity, but the surprise was quickly overwhelmed by ecstasy as he began to please me in a way only a man with access to my mind could. My body slumped over the desk, helpless to succumb to his ruthless devouring. One of my hands was still clenched in his hair as he brought me to orgasm with practiced ease, but the taste of my climax only incited him. He was not satisfied until I was in complete ruin and could no longer move.
“That did not feel… like grovelling,” I panted as he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.
“No. That was me worshipping you,” he replied as he walked over to the bed and dropped me onto the mattress. He followed me, kneeling between my legs and gripping my hips to pull me up his thighs.
“Oh!” I moaned as his thick girth began to stretch me, and the sensation seemed to shoot through me all the way down to my toes. I made the same noise when he jerked me against him to make sure he was as deep inside me as he could get. And then he uttered another of those feral groans of the purest satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he gritted through his teeth before he began to move, pushing and pulling me in tandem with each thrust of his hips. His pace was punishing, and he barely slowed the first two times he came. He took me in every position we had ever tried, over and over again until he was finally slumped over my back in a shuddering mess.
“Holyfuck,” I huffed once he had rolled off of me and sank in exhausted bliss into the mattress next to me.
“Sorry,” he murmured, kissing my back with gentle affection that made me shiver. “It had been too long.”
I wanted to turn over and receive his kisses on my lips, but my body felt completely boneless.
“I think I need backup,” I mumbled into the sheets.
“What?” Riordan blurted out with a laugh.
“You are going to end up breaking me,” I complained, and he laughed again. Then he collected me up against his chest and wrapped me tightly in his arms.
Chapter five
HE IS NO KING
Amira
It was the first morning I was able to have breakfast with Riordan since the Wild Hunt came to the Vale, and I had missed it immensely.
I knew there were important things we had to discuss, but after a night of passion, we were both content to share such a leisurely morning. He had barely stopped touching me from the moment we grudgingly crawled out of bed to get dressed. His hand stayed on my thigh mostly, but he would sometimes squeeze my fingers or lift them up to his lips for a kiss while we ate. I intentionally kept the conversation as lighthearted as I could, asking him every inane question I had been compiling these last few weeks. Silly curiosities that had felt too inconsequential to ask in light of our responsibilities. It felt very much like those early days of our relationship when we could simply take joy from one another’s presence. Before he became king and I devoted myself to him and his kingdom.
But some time between asking if he’d object to me keeping one of his gorgeous griffin feathers and what age griffins shifted at for the first time, we both grew sombre. Reality seemed to settle on us at the same time.
Riordan shifted forward, taking my hand again to lift it to his lips as if to signal that the frivolity of our morning had come to an end.
“You have something to pass along from the council,” herecalled, and I nodded in reluctance.
I gave him the gist of the painfully repetitive meetings, including the demand from Stamos for weapons we could use to repel Rian, and Riordan listened intently. He made no attempt to interrupt me, but I noticed the slight smile as it began to curl the corners of his full lips.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” he assured me quickly, shaking his head as if dispelling his thoughts. “I simply enjoy your passion.”
“The meetings are boring, Riordan,” I deadpanned.
“Be that as it may, you are still passionate about them. Perhaps you have even found your place here,” he added significantly, his brows rising at me.
“But I thought you only wanted me to take your place until you were done mending the Vale?” I reminded him, and then I gasped. “You are pawning them off on me!”
