“Shh!” He slapped a hand over my mouth and I smiled against his warm skin, kissing it.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his speech.
“Well, now I feel put on the spot. I mean, obviously, I very much enjoy your cock. But there must be other things, too.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips. “You act all tough and stern, but—”
“I am tough and stern,” I said against his hand.
“But you’re really quite tender and sweet. You kiss away my tears. You hold me like I’m something precious. You fly intoa panic and call the whole army to search for me when I go missing.”
It wasn’t the whole army, but I decided to let him have that.
“And you indulge me. You’ll do anything to make me smile, won’t you? You let me chase my passions, and pick flowers when I should be investigating things, and of course, you’ll be very in favor of shorts at our wedding, because you like nothing more than to see me happy.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, I agree with that, too. Mm, and anything to make me come harder than I’ve ever come.” He lowered his hand and stared into my eyes, blinking back tears. “When we first met, I thought you were a dark, dangerous shadow daddy, but the truth? You’re mostly just a daddy, aren’t you? And I love that about you, love the way you quietly take care of everyone around you, especially me. I love you, Aeldryc the Ironstorm. And I can’t wait to marry you. Should we do it soon?”
“Very soon,” I murmured, cupping his chin and kissing him again. Then I took his hand and led him towards our rooms, because I very much needed to be inside him at this moment. He chattered as we walked, growing more animated by the moment.
“What do you think we should do for wedding decor? I want flowers. Obviously. Loads of flowers. And I want the trolls to come—Brogan and Davik, from the inn. Do you think the Queen would let us use the hedge maze?”
“Pip.”
“—and we need music, proper music, not the intimidating drum thing the faes do, something with a melody. And the cake, Aeldryc, the cake is important, I have opinions about cake—”
We rounded the corner, and I spotted a very nice alcove, and shoved him into it, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand. His eyes went dark and wide and his breath stuttered.
“Aeldryc—”
“Three hours,” I said, low, against his throat. My free hand found the waistband of his shorts and pulled. “Three hours, Pip. I thought you were gone. I thought I had lost you because I was too stupid to speak when it mattered, and you were in a hedge maze making flower crowns.”
“I made really good flower crowns,” he said, shoving his shorts down and kicking them aside.
I lifted him. He went willingly—arms around my neck, legs around my waist, the position as natural now as breathing. He reached between us, moaning softly and freed me, then took the vial of oil I kept in my pocket and slicked it over me, dropping it to the ground with a clatter as I gripped his thighs, spread him open, and drove into him.
I took my time, because I wanted him to feel it—every inch of my cock, to remember that he must not disappear, because he needed this the way I needed this. I buried my face against histhroat, scraping my teeth against his skin as the tight, shaking heat of him enveloped my shaft. His fingers dug into my shoulders, and his head fell back against the stone.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I said, and thrust deeper, and he whimpered. “I thought you were gone and I would never—”
“I’m here,” he gasped. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to panic.”
“I wasn’t panicked, just mildly alarmed.” I snapped my hips and his words became a sound that was not a word, and I did it again, and again, and the rhythm found itself the way it always did between us—desperate and frantic and exactly right.
“Was your cock worried, too?” he said, grinning through the gasping, because he was incapable of not being ridiculous even when I was buried inside him.
I pressed my lips against his ear. “Devastated. Inconsolable. It needs the warm sheath of your body very much.”
“Poor thing.” He clenched around me, deliberately, and my vision whited out for a second. “Let me help with that.”
I pinned him harder. He rolled his hips to meet each thrust, his breath coming in sharp, broken cries that echoed off the corridor walls. I took him the way the fear demanded—deep and relentless, one hand braced against the wall, the other gripping his hip so I could drive into him with all of my power. I droppedmy forehead to his, and he clung tighter, arching his spine until his cock bounced against my stomach.
“I love you,” I said, and it came out ragged, wrecked, nothing like a commander and everything like a man who had nearly lost the only thing that mattered. “I love you, Pip.”
“I love you,” he said, “and I’m going to come, untouched, and if you stop I will kill you.”
I did not stop.
He came first—shaking apart in my arms with a cry that rang off the stone, his body clenching around me in waves that dragged me to the edge and held me there, his cock spurting a sticky mess across his stomach, staining his shirt. And I followed, burying myself to the hilt, and the orgasm tore through me with a force that made the iron in every lantern bracket in the corridor flare and sing.
