Page 80 of Fate of the Sun King

“Oh, are we done talking?”

“Keep talking,” he breathes. “I’m listening. I’ll just…”

He slides a hand between us, a finger pressing against my clit, and my hips arch.

“… be right here.”

“Mmm,” I moan as his finger slides into where I’m already wet. Or still wet? It doesn’t matter. All I know is my body craves him with a ferocity that would destroy worlds.

“Wait,” I say, and he pulls up. “That night in The Aurora when your father figured out who I was. You promised me something very specific, and yet you’ve failed to demonstrate what toe-curling things your magic can supposedly do.” The smile on his face is growing as I speak. I tip my head and raise an eyebrow. “Or was that all talk, oh Prince of The Aurora?”

He lets out a growl and sits back on his knees. He’s absolutely beautiful. All warm brown skin and taut muscle painted with the colorful images of his magic, his hair wild and loose. His generous cock sits erect and waiting, and I stare at it and then at him, licking my lips, remembering the last time I had it in my mouth, when I wouldn’t let him touch me.

He lets out a low rumble as if he’s reading my mind.

“Don’t lose that thought,” he orders, and I laugh. “But first, I’m going to show how much that wasn’t talk.”

I lift up onto my elbows and pin him with a challenging look. “Put your money where your magic is, Your Highness.”

The title slips out, feeling so right this time. I remember when I swore to him I’d die before I called him that. He must remember, too, because something curls in his expression, his entire demeanor arching into the shape of a ravenous predator who’s been denied his quarry for far too long.

A moment later, multihued ribbons of glowing light peel off him and circle in the air, twisting around my arms and my legs in mesmerizing spirals of color.

When he tied me up in his bedroom, they had felt like nothing against my skin. When he’d used them to go inside me to unlock my magic, they’d been only gentle touches, no more forceful than a spring breeze. But they’re entirely different right now. They feel just like his hands—warm and soft and insistent.

I lie back, luxuriating in the sensation like a cat who’s found a sunbeam. Inexplicably, the space overhead begins to fill with lightning bugs, just like those I spied in the ballroom. They filter in through an open window and circle around us, bouncing happily.

“Where did they come from?” I ask as Nadir watches them with a crooked smile. “I think they like your magic.”

We both watch as the lightning bugs zig and zag, waltzing with his ribbons of color.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, pulling my attention to him. “I could sit here all day and stare at you.”

“Fine, but could you get on with it while you stare? I’m dying here.”

His eyes go dark at that. “Was that an order?”

“So what if it was?”

He waves a hand, and more magic spirals out, wrapping around my torso and my waist before thin tendrils cuff each of my wrists, binding them together. My magic slips through my limbs, swirling and twisting, but I don’t know if this is what it needs to truly break free.

Nadir raises my hands over my head and then secures them to the bed so I’m helplessly restrained under him.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

I tug on the restraints, pretending to be put out but definitely intrigued by what comes next.

His magic continues swirling around me, and his gaze is acute as a ribbon of magic glides down the center of my body, dragging like a fingertip. The violet light is warm as it travels lower, spreading heat through my limbs and my stomach before it passes my navel and then pauses at the very apex of my thighs, so close yet so far from where I want to be touched. Need to be touched.

“Still think I’m all talk?” he asks with an evil smile.

“I’m not sure. You really haven’t done anything yet,” I say, completely breathless, as the magic tightens in a way that rolls through my entire body. I gasp as he lets out a dark chuckle, and then slowly, that teasing ribbon slides down further between my legs and into the heat of my wet aching center.

I moan as Nadir spreads my legs wider and sinks down on his elbows so his face is poised close enough that I can feel his warm breath along with the tantalizing touch of his magic. I want to reach for him, but I’m still trapped, and that helpless feeling shreds the threadbare control I’m keeping on my nerves.

He continues touching me—or rather his magic does, dancing along my clit—and then there’s an electric spark, and I cry out as my whole body attempts to fold in on itself.

“Still all talk?” he asks again, and this time I shake my head as he sends out another spark, lighting me up like a bloody chandelier.