Note: This scene takes place right at the beginning of Queen of All. It’s a tiny bit darker than the previous ones. Not that I think anybody is going to complain.
“Kneel for me…or kill me.”
The look in his eyes. There had been such dark desperation, hunger, and desire. He meant every word. That was the choice before her. There was no third way out. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide.
Submit or take his marks and end his life.
Really, that was what she should do. Take the second option and end the havoc and the death.
That’d be the logical choice.
The moment they had reappeared from the battlefield, he had pinned her to a column in his bedroom. In a panic, she had summoned a knife and tried to defend herself. Now she held that obsidian blade against the pitch-black ink on his pale cheek, and he made no move to stop her. In fact, he turned his head so she had better access and a clean shot to slice them off.
She should kill him. She really should.
It’d be the smart thing to do.
She never claimed to be smart.
He watched her with that icy, stone-like expression of a king, a man who was the master of everything around him, but his eyes were flashing in fascination and that heady mix of darkness and passion she had come to love so much. He might be like the oldest brother to the man she knew, but this was still—in some strange and horrible way—her Aon.
“Well? Make your choice.”
She couldn’t do it.
As her grasp on the blade loosened, his expression smoothed into a haughty one. He could see her defeat. He traced his flesh-and-blood hand slowly up her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As he reached the back of her hand, he gently took the knife from her. Slowly enough that she could change her mind. Gently enough that she could argue.
She let him.
Her hand was trembling. She was trembling. His presence was washing over her like a dark cloud, like a fog. He flicked his wrist and tossed the knife away, letting it skitter across the floor toward the wall.
He stepped into her, pinning her to the column. His other hand grasped her hair, holding her head still, as his lips descended on hers.
He was like a whirlwind or the crash of a storm as he overtook her instantly. God, how quickly she melted against him as he kissed her, possessive and passionate. He turned his head to deepen it, demanding entrance to her mouth with his tongue. She let him in without any resistance, letting her eyes slip shut. The stone column felt more escapable than he was right now.
He moaned against her lips. When he finally let up from the kiss, she was breathless and trembling. His own chest was heaving. He let his finger trail across her lower lip, swollen from his attention.
He took another step back, releasing her, leaving her standing there on her own, shivering at his sudden absence even in the hot air of the desert that flowed through the room. He seemed to be waiting for her to do something. But what?
Then it hit her.
Oh.
“Kneel for me…or kill me.”
If she couldn’t do the latter, then he expected the former.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, her stomach twisted into a knot, that same familiar sense of fear and excitement he had always had over her. He was terrifying and always had been. And now, he was a whole different animal.
“You asked me to take what was mine. Do not forget that.”
“Because you made me.”
“And what did I give you in return?”
Lydia cringed and lowered her head, her hands tightening into fists. She had asked him to take her, but she’d done it to spare the lives of everyone else. She shouldn’t have been so surprised he was going to take her words very literally. That was what he had been wanting her to do, after all. And no small part of her wanted the same thing.
“Do not look so morose. You will lead me to think you have not anticipated this as much as I.” He chuckled at the defiant glare she gave him, and his features twisted into a playful, fiendish grin. One that was almost familiar. “What an expression…how long will you stay bitter at me, I wonder?”
“A good long while,” she snapped back at him angrily.
He let out a thoughtful noise as he watched her. “Fear, anger, and desire, in equal measures…makes for such an irresistible drug, don’t you think? Kneel. I grow impatient.”
“Wh—”
“You heard me. Kneel to your King. Or do you break your vow so quickly?”
“I—” Lydia began, but as his expression turned wicked, she knew he would put her there on his own if she said no. This was part of his game. She had agreed to do as he asked as part of her prisoner of war exchange. Herself, for everyone else.
Wincing, she looked away from him and growled quietly in frustration. Fine. Fine! Okay. This wasn’t anything outrageous. He wasn’t asking her to kill someone. He wasn’t asking her to cut off her own arm.
This wasn’t anything she didn’t want, if she was honest with herself. She took a few steps forward away from the column and clenched her fists at her sides again. She could do this. She had to do this.
Slowly, she dropped to her knees on the polished stone floor. He let out a small moan at the sight, and he stepped up to her until he was only a few inches away. The smell of him was no longer of old books and dusty leather—it was of crisp summer air and the wind. It was of incense and spices. His human hand reached down and stroked her hair. “Good girl. Now, look up at me.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. The lust and hunger there lodged a rock in her throat. She felt equal parts fear and excitement at what she saw. She was now also level with something else, proof of his desire for her. His expression was one pure darkness as he looked down at her.
“Your new King demands his tribute.”
Her mouth went dry, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He had to be kidding. He wouldn’t expect her to—
“I remember this as well. How could a man forget such talent? Show me your dedication.” He smirked darkly down at her, superior and starving all at once.
Swallowing the rock in her throat, she realized she was trembling. She had never felt this level of control…this level of command from him. Aon had always led her down that twisting path. Never pulled or pushed her. This man was not so kind, it seemed. He was going to drag her into the fiery pits with him, whether she liked it or not.
But the heat that welled in her body was not out of fear or rage, she knew. No small part of her reveled in this. Wanted to feel him take her. Wanted this monster in the darkness to chase her, and worse, to catch her.
He watched her silently, making no further demands while she wrestled with herself. When she licked her lips that were now so very dry, he growled low. It was the rumble of a man who was straining at the end of his own leash as she unwittingly teased him with what he wanted.
This is wrong. I’m here against my will. But was she? She knew this was going to happen. She knew this was bound to be how the fight ended. Wasn’t she just as thrilled as he was when she found herself back in his arms?
Not having a choice was somehow freeing in the worst kind of way. It was wrong. But giving him this little part of herself…one he’d already had? This, she couldn’t fight.
She slid her hands up his thighs, gliding over the black fabric of the long robe that hung from his hips. She felt him twitch under her hands, his muscles taut and waiting. She reached the heavy metal belts that adorned him, and after a moment of exploration, found where they latched. She undid them and slipped them to the floor. She undid the tie of his black robe and it fell around his feet in a quiet rush of fabric.
He was intimidating. He was beautiful. He was a dark god, standing over her, his need and desire for her plain for any to see. She knew she had to do this. And no small part of her…wanted this. Wanted him.
She let her hands wander to his clear need, and she felt him hot and throbbing in her hands. “Yes, my pet,” he purred down to her. He kept stroking her hair gently but did not make a move to force her to do anything. He wanted her to do this on her own. “That’s it…”
She leaned her head in closer to him, and let her tongue slowly run up the length of him. If she shut her eyes, she could forget where she was. She could forget that he was different now. She could pretend this was her Aon. That somewhere buried in him was the man that she loved.
He moaned loudly at the feeling of her as she let herself circle the tip once, twice, three times, before slowly gliding back down to the base. One of her hands rested on his thigh, the other held him still as she worked. She knew what he wanted. She knew what he was after. She only prayed he let her “drive.”
“Do it,” he purred down at her. “I know you can. I know I did not merely dream this.”
Taking a deep breath, she took him into her mouth. He was just as she remembered. It was a reminder how much she missed him. How much she had come to need him with her. But his need was demanding her attention.
He moaned, the sound ending in a growl. “More.”
It seemed one thing this king shared with her warlock was their impatience. She took him down further as she worked to relax the muscles in her throat as he filled her. He cut off her air, sending thrills through her body. She felt him spasm and his breath hitched, turning into a sharp intake of air through his teeth like a hiss. As she took him to the hilt, he moaned again loudly.
As she slid back from him, she gasped to fill her lungs with air when she could. She looked up at him, and saw him watching her with lidded, dark eyes. His face was a mask of nearly violent hunger. His hands flexed closed to her, fingers stretching and clenching, as if holding himself back. She knew what he wanted to do. But for the moment, he held on to his restraint.
“Worship your new king, Queen of Dreams…” His voice was a rumble, low and dangerous. It was a threat as much as it was a plea. He twitched in her hand, as if straining for more. She knew if she didn’t deliver, he would take. She didn’t know which thought thrilled her more.
But she knew that if Aon had been rough with her—this man would make the warlock look like a fairytale prince. She took him back into her mouth and pressed him down as far as he could go, stretching and threatening the control she had over her own body as he did.
She held him there for as long as she could before pulling back, catching her breath, and repeating the gesture. She took up a tempo that pushed her limits but kept the burning out of her lungs.
God, how much she loved doing this. It lit a fire in her she couldn’t deny. Her body felt like an inferno—as if someone had poured molten iron into her veins. She slipped her eyes shut again, losing herself in the sensation of him.
“I want you to take me in and hold me there until you faint. I want to watch your body surrender to me.”
She pulled away from him, looking up at him shocked. “What? No!”
He growled dangerously, his teeth baring into a snarl. “Don’t be a child. You cannot die this way. Do as I command.”
“No, you—”
She was too slow. He was too strong. He took the opportunity of her open mouth, and with his human hand against the back of her head, rammed himself down her throat like an iron rod. She gagged and sputtered at the sudden invasion, but he was immovable. He pinned her head to his abdomen, pressing harder. She couldn’t even scream.
“Do not dare bite, or I will pull your teeth from your head one by one and we will play an even more violent game. Do you understand me?”
She punched at his thighs, and he only laughed. His metal hand joined his human one, clenched into her hair, pinning her to him. His threat rang true. She didn’t doubt he meant every word of it. She didn’t dare close her jaw around him. But that didn’t stop her struggling, pounding her fists into his body, trying to claw at him. Her nails bit into his flesh, drawing blood.
He laughed. Deep, sultry, and superior. “Good…yes. Struggle. Fight me. I feel you clenching down around me. By the Ancients, this is better than I could have imagined. Ah—” he gasped, moaning loudly and pulling her off him just enough that he could ram her back against his body. Not enough for her to catch her breath.
She didn’t dare make a noise. She needed every ounce of air she could get. She smashed her fists against him uselessly as she felt the pricks of his metal claws against her scalp. He pulled her back again an inch before pressing back.
With each impact of him, he moaned deeply. She could feel his muscles spasming and contracting in pleasure. It wasn’t long before spots began to appear in her vision, and her hands ceased to be fists but open palms, holding onto him, trying to cling to consciousness.
He pulled back enough that she gasped air into her burning lungs, but it was only a taste. He rammed himself back into her. He wanted to prolong the game. Tears stung her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, and he chuckled. “Poor thing. You have no idea who you had chosen to love. Do you know what he wished to do to your flesh? Do you know what kind of twisted acts he wanted to perform when you were still a mortal? This is nothing.”
Her head was starting to spin. She felt loopy and strange. He held her there against him until her hands began to go limp against him. Pulling her back, he let her gasp air again before repeating the pattern. The small blast of air was only enough to keep her from passing out. It wasn’t nearly enough to clear her head.
“Look at you…so beautiful.” He let out a low growl of pleasure, and she felt his hands tighten in her hair. “Do you want this to end?”
She let out a quiet whimper, begging him to stop dragging it out. She knew how it ended. She couldn’t take this anymore.
“Do you surrender to me?”
She paused, but she knew the truth. His power was overwhelming. She didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t even lie. “Mmmh.”
“You are mine, Lydia. You belong to me now.” He moaned again, and she felt him swell inside of her. With a ragged growl, she felt him reach his peak and spend himself down into her. She felt it like lava pouring into her. Her vision began to fill with white spots. Still, he didn’t let up.
Her vision began to grow faint. As she faded, she heard him speak.
“We’ve only just begun.”
***
When she woke, her neck hurt. Her arms hurt. She couldn’t figure out why, until she moved. Disoriented, she let out a startled sound as she realized she wasn’t lying down. She was kneeling. Her arms were held over her head. Her wrists were burning, and looking up, she blinked to try and clear her vision.
Rope was bound around her wrists and ran up overhead. She was on his bed, kneeling in the center of it. The ropes on her wrists were wrapped around the beams that ran from the corner posts and crossed overhead in an X.
She was naked. She yanked on the ropes, and they didn’t budge. She went to go shatter them with her magic. They lit up then, etched in the esoteric writing she’d come to recognize so well. She cried out in pain as something lanced through her like electricity.
“Ah-ah,” a voice came from behind her. “None of that.”
She froze.
When she felt movement behind her, she resisted the urge to turn around to watch him. It made her nervous, not to know where he was. When the points of sharp claws traced up her back, she gasped. Lydia’s skin broke out in goosebumps. She wondered if that would ever stop happening. “What’re you doing?”
“Taking what’s mine. You surrendered. Twice now in one day. Do you think it’d be over so quickly?” He let out a low chuckle and she felt him shift closer to her. He was at her back, kneeling behind her, legs on either side of hers. She felt his hand tangle into her hair and pull her back against him. He tilted his head down to her neck, kissing the skin there, trailing a series of hot, sultry kisses down towards her shoulder.
Damn him to hell.
Damn him to hell because despite what he was doing, she…felt like she was on fire. He was dangerous. He was demanding, cruel, and possessive. He had a power over her that she couldn’t deny. But somehow, in some dark, twisted way…she was loving this. Feeling utterly at his mercy brought out something in her that she only understood on a primal level.
Damn him for what he did to her. She couldn’t help but sink against him. She let out a small noise in her throat that was one step before a moan. He let go of her hair as he kissed and licked at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his hand splaying against her abdomen, fingers spread wide, as he pressed her back against him.
His clawed prosthetic was wandering up her side, tracing the turquoise writing that ran from her hipbone up to the underside of her breast. When it got that far, he cupped the tender flesh in his hand and squeezed it hard, painfully, this time drawing a full moan from her now-parted lips.
He chuckled as he tormented her skin, kneading it in his metal hand ruthlessly, making her squirm against him at the overwhelming sensation. When she almost twisted from his grasp, he stopped and slid his hand further north, trailing up over her shoulder, the points like knives tracing against her. She shivered despite herself. When he tilted her head to look at him, she felt her face grow warm and she looked away.
“Poor little thing…” he purred and ran his tongue slowly up along the side of her cheek. “You wear shame so well.” His human hand slid down her abdomen, slipping between her legs, finding the proof that he wasn’t alone in his enjoyment of the situation. Not by a long shot. He moaned quietly and she felt him shudder and press closer to her.
She gasped as he plunged his fingers inside her suddenly and harshly. He worked them inside her as his thumb tormented her sensitive nub, causing her to spasm and twitch, yanking against the ropes that held her arms overhead.
Pleasure ran through her, shocks of electricity, overriding her tormented thoughts. His prosthetic resumed kneading her breast, digging the tips in painfully, meshing the two sensations together flawlessly. He was a master at blending the pleasure and the pain, she would give him that. But if she had thought Aon was unyielding, this man had turned the volume up to full.
As she threatened to reach her peak, he stopped. She was shivering, her body taut and tense. “No. I am still quite angry with you for trying to overthrow my rule. Your release will not come so easily.”
She was trembling. She couldn’t help it. His hands were both back to exploring her now, sliding over her body. Her head was resting back against his shoulder, her lips parted as he tormented her.
“I have such plans. So many things I would like to do to you. But one thing at a time, I suppose. What shall I do to you tonight?” He pondered. With both hands, he cupped her breasts and pinched at the sensitive buds, making her cry out in surprise and pain. He only chuckled and kissed at the corner of her mouth.
She whimpered. That’s all she could muster.
“Lean forward as far as you can go. Lift your hips.”
She felt ice and fire run through her at his words. Fear and desire warred for control, and they left her stunned. She locked up at his command, frozen and unsure. Her pause wasn’t acceptable. She could feel him go tense behind her.
He growled low in his throat, annoyed. “When your king speaks, you obey.” Suddenly his hand was in her hair, twisting it around his fingers. He shoved her forward, lurching her against the ropes until she was bent away from him at a forty-five-degree angle. Her wrists burned at the sudden tug as her arms were now bent at the elbows. With nothing else to hold on to, she grasped the ropes tightly.
He let go of her hair to grasp her hips and yank her up, furthering her angle. Presenting her body to him. He let out a low hum of appreciation. “So beautiful…”
Without warning, pain lanced through her body. It was only after that that she realized he had slapped his palm hard against her ass. Two more strikes, brutal and harsh, had her eyes watering and had her gasping. Five more, and she was shivering. He paused to knead the abused flesh in his hand. The action both made it hurt worse and feel incredible. It was a deep-seated ache that resonated in her.
“Beg me.”
“Wh—” she gasped as he pressed his fingers hard against her flesh.
“Beg me to take what’s mine. You’ve done it once before. I would have you say it again. I want everything you gave him. Every last part of you that you gave up to him is now mine. Do you understand me?” When she paused, he slapped his palm against her burning flesh again, just as hard as before. She let out a sharp cry of pain. “Well?”
“Y…yes.”
“Then beg me.” She felt him at her entrance, hard and hot, waiting. She knew what was going to happen next was going to hurt. She knew he wouldn’t be gentle. She was immortal, and he was callous.
And she wanted every second of it. She wanted to feel him ravage her. Her body felt empty without him. Her desire was roaring inside of her, demanding she feed it. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She wanted him. All of him. Every bit of what he could do to her.
What was wrong with her…?
“Please take me.” She pulled in a wavering breath. “Please.”
“Try harder.”
She swallowed thickly, and felt her face grow hot. “Please, my king.”
“Better,” his hand kneaded the flesh of her ass again, abused and sore now from where he had struck her. “But you can still try harder.”
She cringed and lowered her head, shutting her eyes in defeat. She knew what he wanted to hear. “Please, my king. I’m yours. I belong to you. Take me, every part of me, as hard as you want. Take everything I gave to Aon. Fuck me.”
She felt him shudder behind her at her words. He moaned as if they had brought him physical bliss. “Ooh, my love, my darling…my queen. You are beyond measure. You are perfect.”
And with that, he filled her. He went from zero to sixty in that instant, ramming into her so hard that she screamed. Even with her body so ready for him, he stretched her painfully and without warning. The sudden invasion had her muscles clenching down against him as he took up an immediately punishing pace.
She felt just along for the ride as his hands dug into her hips and he pounded into her like a machine. Every one of his impacts lurched her forward, and she would have fallen if not for her arms tied up overhead. She held on for dear life as he rampaged inside of her. Her mind flashed white as her pleasure crested almost immediately, throwing her head-first into ecstasy as it swept over her. But he didn’t slow down. Not even for a second.
He growled behind her, the sound of his exertion mingling with her cries of pain and pleasure as he pressed hard inside of her. He was always too much for her, straining her body and bringing her a delicious painful ache that consumed her thoughts.
The metal tips of his gauntlet pressed into her skin, and she knew he drew blood by the small warm rivulets she could feel running down her leg. It was only slightly different from the feeling of the sweat forming on her skin.
It took a long time to realize the moans were coming from her. That she was nearly delirious as he pistoned inside of her body. How long it went on, she didn’t know. He was relentless, no matter how many times her pleasure crested. No matter how much she begged him breathlessly for mercy.
It seemed like it went on forever, when he abruptly stopped. Full halt. She was gasping for air, her vision spinning, as she tilted forward on the ropes as far as she could go. Her body felt electric and on fire, sore and weary and wanting more. Still he was buried into her to the hilt, hard and hot and throbbing.
She had felt the press of ecstasy several times. But he seemed to have mastery over even that part of her body. His hands slid from her hips to her ass, groping and kneading the flesh. She heard him let out a low, shuddering moan at the sight of her. He moved one of his hands, and she felt something hot and slick pour against her lower back. His human hand kneaded it against her, drifting it lower, and lower, before his fingers circled that other part of her.
“Remember what I said…I will have everything you gave to him.”
Oh no.
He pulled out of her body, slowly and agonizingly, leaving her feeling empty and devoid of something as he did. But she wasn’t going to be without him for long, she knew. “No, no, wait—”
His metal hand twisted in her hair and yanked on it painfully, cranking her head back. “Did you not submit? Did you not tell me you were mine? Did you not offer yourself up? Or were you lying?” When she was silent, he let go of her hair. “Good girl.”
As he shifted, she felt him press against that far tighter part of her body. The last time, Aon had taken great care with her. Now, she knew she wasn’t going to be nearly so lucky.
“Please, be—” She tried. She tried to ask him to be gentle. But she never got the chance.
In one movement, he rammed into her. She screamed. Dear god, it hurt. It burned and stung and ached all at once. Her vision swam as he shoved himself deeper and deeper, fighting her rebelling body. But he wouldn’t be stopped.
When he sat in her to the hilt, he ran his hands slowly up and down her back. She was shuddering, her body convulsing in the agony. Air was coming to her in short gasps as she struggled to keep conscious.
“So beautiful. Oh, my love. Ssh…breathe deep. Slow down.”
She felt so full. Her body felt impossibly tight with him inside of her where he didn’t belong. He throbbed inside of her. She could feel his heartbeat through him where he had invaded. It hurt so much…but it was slowly fading.
Her body healed fast. Very fast.
And he knew this.
“Breathe.” His hands still ran up and over her back, kneading her skin in a gentle and soothing caress far from the violence he had unleashed on her. She forced herself to breathe. She forced the air to come slower. Her vision began to clear as it did. When she shifted, it was like her body remembered he was buried inside of her. A twinge of something that felt like he had touched a live wire in her body made her gasp and whimper.
“There you are.” He moved one of his hands down to her hip and held her still as he began to slide out of her. He took a much more humane pace this time. He pressed into her until she gasped at the sensation of him filling her to the hilt, before pulling out until he barely remained inside of her.
He pulled her up against him, straightening her and lessening the strain against her wrists. He wrapped his hand from her hip down between her legs, filling her again with his fingers. “I was always jealous of Rxa, able to take his lovers in all ways at once…I suppose this will have to do for now.” He purred against her shoulder as he kissed the skin there, licking and nipping at it.
The pain was a memory now, and all she could feel was him inside of her. Filling her. Taking her. Claiming her. The pleasure was intense, wild, and primal. It threatened to override everything in her mind.
“Open your mouth.”
She couldn’t think. She could only feel. She opened her mouth obediently. Something hard, sharp, and metal slipped against her tongue. He rested his gauntlet against her cheek, his pointer finger in her mouth.
Her eyes went wide, and she jolted in surprise. The dagger of his finger pressed against her cheek, the side against her tongue. She went tense, and he chuckled again at her reaction. “You love this toy of his. This abomination I wear because of his folly isn’t without its convenience. Close your lips around my finger.”
She did, now too afraid to fight him. He could tear her face wide open if he wanted to. He moaned. “I can still feel through the metal. Worship this damnable thing like you did my flesh.” He accentuated his words with a hard shove inside her body, pressing himself again to the hilt with more force than before.
She moaned against him, resting her head back against him. She ran her tongue along the side of the blade, careful not to cut herself, and began to suck on the metal digit. He groaned loudly, rumbling in his chest, as he redoubled his speed inside of her. She felt him everywhere. Tormenting her body.
She couldn’t take it for long. It was too much. She let out a whimpering cry, and as her lips parted, he removed the claw from her as she nearly screamed in ecstasy. His pattern inside of her body which had been meticulous and methodical suddenly became lurching and desperate. He held onto her hips again with both of his hands as he thrust inside of her once, twice, three times, before holding himself in as far as he could go. She felt him surge inside of her, and he let out a guttural cry at her back.
He rested his head against her shoulder, thrusting once more into her, growling loudly, ending almost in a roar as he nearly frantically pounded into her body before she felt him spend himself into her a second time.
This time, he was gasping for air as he finished, wrapping his arms around her body. Still buried inside of her, he held onto her tightly his head nuzzling into the side of her neck. She felt his lips against her throat, and she could feel the tempo of her pounding heart there.
The ropes holding her disappeared. Vanished into thin air. She lowered her arms with a whimper, and it was only then that he pulled himself away from her. He laid her down onto her back.
The room reeled around her. Her body ached. She could heal, but only so much so fast. He laid down next to her and pulled her tight up against him. She was shaking like a leaf, overwrought and overwhelmed by what had happened.
He curled up close to her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her against his chest. He was lying on his side, letting one of his legs fall in between hers. He was still twitching occasionally, his muscles rippling with his own aftermath. Every time he did, he pulled in a sharp breath through his nose. He held her to him as though she would disappear, or as though he was afraid she might burst into tears.
She lifted a hand and felt him tense up. When she put her hand on his arm and let it rest there, she felt him relax. He was still afraid she was going to regret what she had done. Just like the first time they had been together, he had been so nervous he had gone too far for her.
That alone brought her more comfort than his presence at her side, holding her tightly to him. If he had been worried about hurting her, there was something familiar in the stranger he might have become.
“I will leave you if you wish,” he said softly to her, even as he held her.
She didn’t know how she felt about him. Not anymore. But there were two things she couldn’t deny. One, that she had enjoyed every second of what they had just done. And two, the idea of lying here alone after all that was the absolute last thing she wanted. Even if he wasn’t Aon anymore, this part of her still belonged to him.
And if he had told the truth, she had him in exchange.
“No, don’t go…” Lydia rested her head against his and shut her eyes.
“Thank you.” He let out a small breath of relief, and she felt the tension melt from him. He had honestly been worried she was going to kick him out. He nuzzled his head in closer to her, tucking it against her shoulder. “Rest, my love.”
With that, she couldn’t argue. Sleep was calling her name, and it wasn’t long before it came to claim her.