Page 107 of Shadow Throne King

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“I am fine,” Tallu said, but he shut his eyes and raised one hand, his fingertips brushing his temple, his thumb pressed against his jaw.

I stood quickly, searching the table until I found a glass carafe of fruit juice, the orange color bright against the stained wood. I poured Tallu a cup and pressed it against his lips. He opened his mouth, and I put my fingertips under his jaw, tilting his head back so that he could drink more easily.

His throat worked, but he still didn’t open his eyes. He finished half the glass, and then I let him breathe, his gasps sounding raw against his throat. I pressed the glass against his lips again, and he drank more, his color going pale.

When he had finished it, I returned to the table, refilling the glass and bringing it and a silver bowl heaped with a mix of nuts and candied fruit to the couch on which my husband slumped.

I picked up a soft nut, pressing it against Tallu’s lips. His eyes opened, and he arched an eyebrow at me. His gaze was still muddy, distant, and slightly out of focus.

“I can feed myself, you know,” he said.

“Prove it,” I said, letting my grin grow, and my whole chest began to loosen from the sight of him safe in his own palace.

He opened his mouth, his tongue whispering across the tip of my finger before he bit down on the nut, chewing it and swallowing. I picked a candied fruit next. I started to pull away once he pulled the plum into his mouth, but he reached out, hishand trembling only slightly as he carefully sucked the sugar off my fingertips before deigning to chew the dried plum.

I chose a nut again, watching his plush mouth, watching him gain vitality with each bite. When he had finished a generous handful, I stood again, searching the table until I found a frozen dessert, the small bowl nestled inside a larger one filled with ice. I took a spoon and sat next to him on the couch, serving him the mix of frozen cream and fruit.

He didn’t protest again, watching me as I fed him each delicate spoonful. I should be hungry. I knew I was, but my stomach nearly curdled with my desire for something else.

“Why is it that every time you take me up a mountain, we end up fleeing down it, injured?” I asked. I readied another spoonful for him, the pale cream mixed with red berries plucked at the peak of their flavor. This was my own favorite treat in the Silver City, though mine had been flavored with citrons that grew in the Northern Kingdom instead of these southern berries.

Tallu laughed, opening his mouth for the next taste of sweetness. “Until I met you, I had gone up and down plenty of mountains and only ever fled them during war campaigns.”

“Are you implying that I am my own war campaign?” I asked, finally unable to resist and taking a bite for myself. The sweetness exploded on my tongue, cut with a tart flavor from the berries.

“I would go to war for you,” Tallu said. “I would take on as many armies as it took for you.”

His hand no longer trembled when he rested it on my upper thigh and something warm woke in my stomach.

“This will melt,” I said, which wasn’t a no.

“We should finish it, then,” Tallu said, stroking his fingertips over my thigh.

Gently, I spooned more into his mouth, watching his pink tongue, his flushed lips, as he swallowed down every last drop.

I took my own spoonful, aware of his gaze on my lips as though he wanted to trace the sweetness with his tongue.

We finished too quickly, the silver spoon clinking against the bottom of the bowl, and then he was on me, his tongue lapping at the corner of my mouth.

“I will fight this entire world to keep you,” Tallu said. His mouth pressed against mine forcefully, and I opened myself up willingly to his plundering.

I could taste the sugar in his mouth, the tart berries and salted nuts. Everything was open for me. He pushed me back, his body bearing me down against the couch.

But that wasn’t what I wanted. I nudged at his shoulder, and he leaned back easily, eyes worried before I pushed to my knees, swinging my leg over his hips and straddling his waist.

His hands came up automatically, tight on my hips. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, but I could feel his interest, his cock trapped between us. I kissed along his neck, over his shoulder, pushing his robe aside to worship the delicate bones and soft skin leading to the complicated twist of his tattoo.

Then I returned to his neck, biting and nipping my way up to his jaw and back into his mouth. He was panting, hands clenching against the fabric of my robe.

Leaning back, I pulled open the tie, letting it fall off my shoulders only to be caught in my elbows. I pulled the bottom half open so he could see how much I wanted this, too. His hand trembled, this time not from exhaustion when he lifted it and cupped my face. He bit his lip before drawing me down for another kiss. I grinned into his mouth, reaching down and busying myself with the tie of his robe, pulling it open and shoving it wide so that our skin touched.

“Airón,” he murmured, but I knew exactly what I wanted.

Standing, I could feel my robe trailing on the ground as I walked over to his bedside table, opening all the drawers until I found what I needed. I came back to find him naked on the couch, his robe tossed to the side. I presented him with the small tin of oil.

Then I repositioned myself, astride him again, my hands on the back of the couch as I held myself above, not letting myself touch him, not yet. He swallowed.