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“Officially, I am married, just not to you.”
His laughter cut off and his stare turned serious. My heart stuttered, tripped by anticipation of what was to come.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but his stare said otherwise. He pulled off my shirt and shoved me toward the bed, then swept in, attacking me with a kiss I had no chance of resisting. I fought with his clothes as his mouth swept in and claimed mine, then he was everywhere, hands and mouth, tongue sweeping, teasing up my chest, circling a nipple. He cupped my ass, hauled me off my feet, and dumped me on the bed, then lunged, claiming me under him in a storm of passion and heat that left my head spinning and my body alight.
“Wait,” he panted, tearing off his shirt as he left the bed.
I squinted into the dawn-touched chamber, through the long shadows creeping from the windows, and there he was at the wardrobe, rummaging inside. Gods, what wicked thing did he have in mind now?
He snorted and donned my crown.
Shirtless, trousers hanging low on his slim hips, with Love’s crown perched sideways on his dark hair, he sashayed toward the bed. I fought a laugh and failed, setting it carelessly free. He really was a fool, and I loved him for it.
“What?” He gasped, pretending to be hurt. “Am I so ill-suited to a crown?”
“Pearls and gold really aren’t you.”
He took the crown off and prowled up the bed, straddling my legs. “I have a devilish thought,” he said, and planted the crown on my chest.
I could see that from his smirk. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
He took the crown in both hands and propped it on my head, then knelt back and studied me. “It suits you. How does it feel, King of Love?”
I swallowed and righted its slide sideways. “This is the first time I’ve worn it.”
“Oh, really?”
He moved to grab it, but I clutched it tight to my head. “I like it. Leave it.”
“I was going to suggest we fuck while you wear it, but now I have my concerns come the morning. With the wine faded from your head, you might regret it.”
“Excuse me, fool. Let’s be clear, I’m not intoxicated enough to pass up such an opportunity. And this is Love’s crown, after all. Surely, it’s meant for fucking?”
He grinned and fell forward on both arms, trapping me under his warm chest. His silky black hair framed his grinning face, and I had that same heart-lurching sensation of falling. Was this why we fell in love? This was it, wasn’t it? The freefall into the unknown, the thrill and fear of giving my heart away.
I tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, revealing more of his face, with its smooth cheekbones and fine, almost feminine jawline. “There’s no other in all the shatterlands like you, Lark.”
“Careful, or I may begin to believe you.”
“I wish you would.”
He turned his head and kissed my hand. “I am trying.”
He skimmed his mouth down my wrist, then cradled my arm and sucked at the sensitive spot inside my elbow, lifting dark eyes to watch how I tried to resist moaning and failed. “Tell me what you want.”
I didn’t even know all the manners of lovemaking that were possible, but I saw the dark promises in his eyes. He’d bring any fantasy to life. There was more there now, a resilience, and a determination. He’d finally made his decision to fight for us, for himself.
“I want you,” he said. “Just you, as you are—as we are, together.” He laughed at himself. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”
“I understand, I think.”
His laughter ebbed away and he lay on me, placing his ear to my chest, over my heart. A heavy sigh fell out of him. “I realize I’ve built this up to be a thrilling night of lovemaking, but do you mind if we lay a while, like this?” He propped his chin on my chest and blinked. “I like the beat of your heart.”
I wrapped my arms around him and he burrowed against my neck. Sometimes, Lark was at his most honest and vulnerable when he was quiet. No more acts, no more pretense. Just the beat of our hearts, together.
CHAPTER42
Arin
