Page 88 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

"Try it on," he said, handing me the golden chain mail. It slid over my hands like flowing water.

I started to shake my head, but he pressed me. "You have to see if it fits. It would be a shame to find out on the eve of battle that it doesn't."

I laughed. "There is plenty of time between now and me riding into any battle to try on the armor."

I had to admit the fact that he saw me someday riding into battle made me intensely happy. It wasn't that I was spoiling for a fight. But I had always wanted to be strong enough to defend my people from any enemy, just as my warrior mother had done.

She had bucked custom and ridden out with my father, ancient sword of Lithaway at her hip. And although they reigned in mostly peaceful times, she fought in the occasional skirmish with outlaws or pirates.

The fact that Io saw the same capacity for that in me and did not seek to stifle it or deter me, meant the world to me.

So I let him help me slide the armor over my clothes. Each piece fit so perfectly that I would have believed the king had somehow consulted Edriana, the seamstress, for my measurements.

When I stood in the middle of the chamber in my full battle gear, holding Sangui at my side, I felt just a little bit ridiculous.

Io let out a low whistle of approval. "Dear fates, Aelia of Windemere, you look like a warrior goddess descended from the heavens to wage war on all the forces of evil."

I laughed at his borderline sultry expression. "This turns you on, you beast!"

"You're gods damned right it does. Now show me what you can really do." He picked up his sword and held it up, at the ready.

"I don't want to fight you. One of us will end up without a head."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I won't let you cut off my head, Sera darling," he drawled.

"I was talking about me," I said, rolling my eyes back at him.

"I'm not going to strike you. Just parry with me, and I'll defend."

When I made no move, he added, "Unless you're all show in that shiny armor, Star-born Guardian of the Elderwood.

" He said it mockingly, but I could hardly say I was offended since he was being so ridiculous.

He was looking at me like he would sooner fuck me than fight me.

Or rather, he was looking decidedly like he might want to fight me and fuck me, I thought with a dark, delicious thrill down my spine.

So I struck.

Moving in the armor was as easy as if I had not been wearing it. It was formed so seamlessly on me that it allowed my body to move around and within it. I was entirely unimpeded as I stepped in and swung my blade up at Io's smirking face.

Sangui hummed as she moved, slicing through the air with no resistance as a wave of strength shot up my arm, pushing my swing further, faster.

Io's sword caught mine, sliding the blow off to the side harmlessly. I didn't miss the look of surprise on his face, though. It was closer than he expected.

I swung again, and he narrowed his eyes as he ducked out of the way, Sangui gliding over his head so close that I saw his hair flutter as she passed.

I struck again and met his blade at the side of his head, metal ringing in a clash of steel that echoed off the cave walls. I met his eyes, noting the look of approval on his face.

I was momentarily distracted by his impossibly beautiful face, lips split in a wide grin showing white teeth and that dimple at the side of his mouth.

The long line of his arms, muscles bunching and flexing under his rolled-up sleeves, his chest straining against the thin fabric as he swung his blade up to meet mine.

I imagined that arm moving me, grasping my waist, sliding me to meet his hips across the bed.

The distraction cost me some ground as he stepped into me, and I had to back away to continue striking.

I swung and he parried it. I swung again, and he leaned back, letting the blade sail in front of his face. He raised a brow as though to say, is that all you have?

He never offered a single correction, even as I thought I saw him wince a few times when my form was particularly bad, or my feet were placed so that I was more off-balance than I should have been.

That smile, wicked and delightful, was the only accompaniment to my blows.

I struck again and again and again, never tiring, never flagging.

When perhaps a bit too much hubris had managed to worm its way into my head, I stopped. "Strike me," I said. "I want to see how well I can defend."

"Not a chance," he said.

"I am not so delicate, Io. And I know you have better control than to really hurt me."

He shook his head, smile fading. "It will never happen, Sera. Even if I had not sworn an oath to you that I would never move against you, there is no force in the realm that could make my hand rise against you."

I wanted to be annoyed. I really had been looking forward to seeing how well I could defend myself. But the words, dear gods, the words entirely undid me.

I lowered my sword, feeling the connection between me and the blade fading as a new force, more welcome, more substantial, stole the space the power occupied inside me. Stole all the space inside me.

Sangui clattered to the stones, but I barely noticed as I went to him, sliding my arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. I pulled him to me, as though I could actually meld myself to him with that same lightning that connected the sword to my hand.

He kissed me back, and at some point, I heard his sword slide to the stones a great deal more gently than mine had.

He laughed against my lips as he held my armored body to his. "I should have known that would turn you on," he said, sliding his lips along my jaw.

"Oh? Why's that exactly?"

"Because you love to see me yield to you, to be your loyal, devoted supplicant. You really should be ashamed to always want me bowing before the temple of Seraphem."

I rolled my eyes, but it was true. Nothing gave me a thrill so much as the idea of him, so strong and powerful, so far above any creature I had ever known, kneeling in service to me.

It had started with that oath, freely given and from his heart.

That had been the moment everything had changed.

That had been the moment there was no going back.

For the Lord of Darkwatch, who bowed to no one—not even the King of Nightfall, whose realm his kingdom lay within, to go to his knees before me, the battered and broken queen on the verge of exile from her own kingdom, and swear me those old words of fealty…

it had been, and still remained, a greater honor than any I could ever hope to deserve.

My armor came off a little less carefully than it had gone on, and when he had stripped me down to only my shirt, as though he could wait no longer, he gripped my hips and slid into me, standing in the middle of the chamber holding me against him.

He groaned and stilled, sinking his head to my shoulder as he held me against him, the deep ache of him seated so fully, making me shudder. "I don't know how long it's going to take for me to learn to control myself when I feel not only my own pleasure, but yours as well."

"You are operating under the mistaken assumption that you need to control yourself," I replied, grasping his shoulders and lifting myself so that I slid along his impressive length.

He growled into my ear. "Wicked." And then he did loosen his control. He slid his hands from the backs of my thighs to my ass so that he could lift me and lower me roughly over him as he strode across the chamber.

In a heartbeat he had pulled my shirt over my head and laid me on the soft moss. And then he was over me, thrusting long and fast into me while I watched the taut muscles of his chest and shoulders.

The tension inside me skyrocketed as he moved, one hand on my hip pulling me to him as he met the thrust with his own body.

His fingers slid down my neck, my chest, and then across my stomach until they met my flesh where our bodies were joined.

He stroked his fingers down and up, catching the bundle of nerves and sending my pleasure over the edge so that I came fast and hard, my body shuddering with dual waves of pleasure.

His climax was nearly simultaneous as he growled, "Fuck, Sera," while he thrust into me again and again, his own waves of pleasure darkening his expression to something wild and hungry as he ground his hips against mine.

Even as he slowed, the second wave of release hit me so hard that my back arched from the floor. I moaned the same curse he had, my legs hooked around him, drawing him in against me, his cock inside me hitting some deep ache of pure satisfaction.

He caught my nipple between his teeth as he chuckled a deep satisfied rumble from his chest. I felt his tongue replace his teeth as it swirled around the peaked bud, and then the sides of my breast.

His hips were still moving, slower and slower as the pleasure wound down and down. I was shaking, my breath ragged and my heart pounding as I relaxed my body and lay against the cave floor.

He leaned down to me, holding his weight off me as he kissed me, my lips, my cheeks, my neck, raining sweet, gentle kisses across my skin. When he met my eyes again, they were full of a stark, unbridled happiness that took my breath away. "Let's go home, Sera."

Heartache split through me like a knife. I wanted to agree, wanted to say yes. I wanted to feel that same happiness I saw in his eyes.

“Stop that,” he admonished, lips curving in a half grin. He felt my pain, and I saw it reflected in his eyes, though he was doing his best to make light of it.

“Or you could stay out of my head,” I snapped. I pushed up, forcing him back as I turned to search for my shirt, trying to hide the shaking of my hands.

“I could lie and say I’ve been trying,” he said ruefully. When I didn’t answer, he reached for me. “Sera?”