Page 124 of Under Restless Skies

Is this really happening?

It’s also an agonizing blur, as each of Alayel’s touches makes me want him more and more, makes me want to get away from this place and rush to his bedroom.

When servants bring down the metal shutters, the hall is still filled with people, even if the king’s long gone. Alayel takes my hand, and we finally leave.

He barely closes his bedroom door, and his hands are all over me, fingers digging into my hips, nails scraping through the silk of my dress as he pulls me against him.

The dress seams give in, tearing easily, and the dress falls on the floor. Alayel removes my undergarments as his teeth graze my collarbone, my shoulder, finally reaching my nipples, making me gasp.

He lifts me, then shoves me onto his bed, a promise of unrestrained desire in his eyes, making my body tremble in anticipation as I watch his hands fumbling with his belt, then freeing his cock, already hard for me.

“You’re all mine now,” he says, his expression softening for a second.

“So are you.” I smile—then remember something, and grimace. “Golden oil,” I mutter. “Do you…”

He gets up and approaches his counter, where he opens a drawer. “Your betrothed is a very, very smart man, Mayara.” He takes a tiny bottle, drips some of the liquid on his fingers, then returns to the bed and caresses me slowly, approaching my core with care. The feel of his finger inside me, caressing my inner walls, makes me pulse in anticipation, and I moan, my back arching.

He tosses his shirt, then lies on top of me and kisses my neck, trailing a soft path down to my shoulder, but then he bites—hard.

“Ow,” I complain, but he laughs, then hooks my knees over his shoulders, spreading me wide.

His eyes are glinting with savage desire as he looks at me, waiting. I know what he’s about to do, what he’s asking permission to do, and I already anticipate the pain—and pleasure. I could ask him to slow down, maybe, but instead, I close my eyes and surrender.

The first thrust is brutal, one harsh stroke that steals my breath. I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he sets a pace that’s all hunger and no mercy.

The pain softens, giving way to pleasure as we settle into a comfortable rhythm. His mouth drags back up to my neck, lips pressing once, twice, before he sucks hard at the skin there, marking me.

I tilt my head back against the pillow as my body begins to loosen, to open, the pleasure building slow and deep beneath every relentless stroke, the desperate pace matching my own desperation in the last days, when I thought I had lost him, when I thought he didn’t love me.

We’re betrothed now. Betrothed, and the word feels unreal even as he fills me with his seed.

Alayel lies sideways, his head resting on his hand, watching me, his perfect body lit by the cool light of his lumos jars.

“You’re so beautiful.” He looks at me as if he really means it.

“Did you just realize it now?” I tease.

“No. I knew as soon as I first saw you. Wanted you from that very first moment. And you’re mine now. See? I get⁠—”

“Everything you want. Yes. Congratulations.” My smile is happy even if I’m taunting him.

He narrows his eyes, his tone playful. “I feel a severe lack of Your Highness, though. You never really screamed it.”

“I said it once, Your Highness.”

He chuckles. “You know what will be even better? Dear husband.”

“Hmm, I can get on board with that.”

He traces a finger over my collarbone. “You know you’ll have to obey me, right?”

I roll my eyes. “As long as I agree with your request, I’ll obey you.”

His fingers then rest on my neck, where he kissed too hard. “I marked you on purpose. I want everyone to know that I fucked you.”

I lift my hand to the tender spots. “Is that supposed to be romantic?”

“Not at all.” He smirks. “It’s derangedly possessive.”