Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Anash

The southern air warms my naked skin, but it's the sight of my beloved that heats the blood in my veins.

My day was spent in correspondence. Letters to Ralossi Palace, letters from Irondale, directions to decode for Princess Suvi's operatives in Willowood, and a message to my sister who rides deep into Vesper Territory. It's a lot to keep track of, requiring the use of two different codes, and takes too much of my time away from Zenith.

Not that his time isn't spoken for as well, leading an army closer and closer to a war that I fear will be a grave mistake if I can't stop him.

But he doesn't know that.

And what we both need right now is a form of stress relief only the other can provide.

Zenith trails slippery kisses along my throat as we lay on the cotton of the gargoyle toga he no longer wears but can conjure up at will. Water drips from his short hair to my cheeks.

He trusts me to keep him safe in the river.

He trusts me to be among his advisors on this ill-fated southerly march.

But will he ever trust me again when he learns I'm on the other side?

I stand with the humans who've been oppressed, taken advantage of, and kept so low they were forced to rise in rebellion against the fae bloodlines. The very same bloodlines Zenith is sworn to protect, including my bloodline of the Tierney Fae.

It's the messiest situation I've ever found myself in and impossible to navigate. How do I stay true to my cause and my mate when the two stand in opposition?

I must convince him he's wrong. I have to. Or I don't know what will happen.

I can't lose him.

Thoughts of war and politics get fuzzy as strong hands pin my arms over my head. Yes. A welcome shiver courses through me. My demon half revels in the anticipation, even as I struggle to let go of nagging worries and be present in the moment.

I lean into the demon side and curl my tail around his torso, yanking him to my chest.

He's strong enough to resist, but he doesn't. He sinks against me, his weight a grounding sensation I relish, his skin hot against mine.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, lips against my ear.

"So do you." I tilt my hips to gain some friction where I need it most. Ah, yes. Right there.

Zenith matches my motion, grinding us together. "It's hard to focus on the soldiers when I've been thinking of this all day."

That's quite the admission from him, my dutifully driven gargoyle. It only serves to work me up further, knowing he's been thinking of me. Fantasizing about us. "Mmm, tell me what you thought of, and I shall grant it."

Heat pinks his cheeks, and his normally warm brown eyes are dark with desire. His stare intensifies. Just when I think he won't answer, he says it aloud. "I thought of kissing you." He does.

I release a pleasured sigh.

"I thought of holding you." He squeezes me so close I gasp. "I thought of entering you, making you squeal and writhe. Feeding you. Watching you come apart under me while I come inside you."

My cock twitches between us. "Oh, yes. All of that. Please, Zenith." I wrap my legs around his solid waist and urge him on.

The world around us fades away. Our bodies take control. I could crawl inside him and still not be close enough.

"Hungry for you." My demon half pines for a meal, one only my mate can provide.

"And I, you." He devours my lips, trails wet kisses along my jaw, then mouths at the juncture of my throat and shoulder.

It's perfect. I croon, humming my pleasure against the soft skin of his forehead, breathing him in.

He sucks at a sensitive spot on my neck. Oh, please let him leave a mark. Evidence of his claim on me. I want it. Want everyone to know. His warm tongue laps over the spot tenderly.

"Don't make me wait any longer." I wriggle under him, canting my hips, begging for his body with mine. I love the way our wet skin catches and tugs, my inner thighs against his waist. "Give me your cock."

"Yes?"

"Oh, yes."

Zenith drags his teeth over my collarbone, hot breath melting my skin as he maneuvers into position.

I need no special preparations—although sometimes he insists on teasing me for an eternity anyway—and while a slow and drawn-out coupling can be lovely, tonight I have no patience. My body is primed for sex, thanks to my incubus heritage, and we shall take full advantage of that gift.

He nudges between my cheeks, pressing his leaking tip against my entrance. "I love how much you want me."

"I do. So badly." I adjust, angling myself to take him deep as he pushes in without pause.

We both moan.

Already the demon feeds on his pleasure, filling me in every way possible. Zenith's kisses leave me breathless. I close my eyes and bask in sensations. The stretch, the motion, the weight. Too good to be true, my gargoyle, my mate, my Zenith.

We move together seamlessly. Him setting the bruising pace he knows I love. Me meeting his every thrust with unbridled need.

What would his soldiers think if they were to walk up on us now? Would they cheer us on with catcalls and whistling? Tease him for it later?

Probably.

And Zenith's sweet nature would allow it so long as they left me be. His cheeks would flush. He'd smile and tease right back. He's a good leader. A good man. If only…

Strong arms gather me up. Zenith flips me over as if I were weightless as a feather, and I find myself atop him, astride his mighty hips and fully seated on his rigid cock.

"Ah!" I lean back, hands on the boulders of his thighs, and find my sweet spot.

Oh, stars above, this is bliss.

His big hands circle my waist, and he urges me to move. I couldn't agree more. Rocking my hips, I glide along his shaft, bucking each time his cock rubs me just right.

"Yes, Anash," he rumbles, voice low and dazed. My name has never sounded better than when it slides off Zenith's tongue. "Yes, just like that."

His gaze roams greedily across my skin. I love the open-lipped, half-lidded look he's giving me. I drink it in like sweet berry wine, filling my mind with him as he fills my body.

Heat sizzles between us, the magic inside me reaching for the magic inside him. Our energy mingles—his, hard as stone but bending for only me, and mine, scorching hot but smoldering only for him.

We're meant to be, my mate and I. Meant to drive each other to the brink and beyond.

I'm ready for his hands on my cock. Hard and swollen. Balls tight. "Touch me."

A sly grin streaks his face. Instead of gripping me where he knows I want it, he trails his hands from my waist up my ribcage and teases each nipple with his thumbs.

Soft caresses. Barely there. Little circles.

"Can you come from this?" he asks.

I arch my back, pressing my chest into his hands, seeking a firmer touch. "I think so."

"Want to watch. Paint my chest with your seed, my prince."

As hard as I worked to get him to call me by name, I won't lie and say that hearing "my prince" from his lips doesn't turn me on even more.

"As you command, dear heart." I redouble my efforts, impaling myself over and over, taking what I need and coaxing every ounce of pleasure from him.

If he wants me to come for him, on him, I will, but only if he fills me when I do.

My ass slaps against his thighs. Thwack, thwack, thwack . He grunts beneath me.

"Trying to hold on?" I ask between gasped breaths.

"For you, yes."

"Don't, my love. I'm with you. I promise."

He pinches my nipples, still gently but growing more desperate with every passing second. Each of us stubbornly waits for the other, drawing out the breathless moments on the edge for as long as we can.

Finally, his hips stutter. He bolts up, pounding me once, twice, again. Right there. So perfect. My whole body tenses and gives. Toes curling, ass clenching, cock pelting him with my cum.

I soak in his ardor like a sea sponge, feeding on the rushing waves of his pleasure. Tumbling over the edge of mine. Shivering under his fingertips on my skin.

We quake as one, devouring every last drop of combined rapture until I collapse on his chest. Wrapped in his arms, my safe place, my favorite spot, I close my eyes and press my nose against his bristled cheek. I coil my tail around one meaty thigh and snuggle in.

He rubs my back, humming softly, contentedly, his chest rumbling beneath me.

I will love him all my days and all my nights and every moment in between.

But will he still love me when he knows why I'm here?

A chill courses through me. I shiver, and not in a good way.

He turns to kiss me, but I burrow farther into his skin, kissing his neck, the soft spot below his ear, his temple. He allows my deflection, unsuspicious. As usual.

My stomach tenses. I push unwelcome thoughts away, but they persist.

Another time. We need to talk. I can explain. He'll understand. He'll agree.

Won't he?

The truth is, I don't know. As much as I mean to him, as much as I know he desires me, his duty is his priority. His queen comes first and foremost.

His mate, a distant second. A close second? I'm afraid to ask.

The answer might devastate me. I'll never find another Zenith.

He moves, separating us. I mourn the loss. He cards a hand through my messy hair, still damp and terribly tangled.

"We should get up. I'll wash you."

I let him maneuver me to his side and then to my feet. He's smiling, so I smile as well, but my heart's racing.

We head back to the river, and the water cleanses our bodies.

If only the current could cleanse my mind as easily.