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I cried out as my release slammed through me, scattering any last coherent thought.

Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me, pulsing in time with the movement of his tongue.

He licked and lapped at my skin as I rode out the aftershocks, drawing out every last shudder and quiver until I collapsed boneless in the throne.

“Was that devotion to your satisfaction, Your Majesty?” he asked, planting a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh.

I hauled him to his feet, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss that tasted of me and him together. “It’s a start,” I said against his lips. “But I believe we’ve only just begun.”

I pushed him back onto the throne, already working at the fastenings of his suit.

The jacket came off first, then the shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest that never failed to make my mouth water.

Red skin stretched over defined muscle, ridged with scars earned in battle, protection, and training. He was beautiful. Powerful.

Mine.

The force of that thought stole my breath. I traced my fingers over a scar near his heart, remembering that first day in the audience chamber. The instant pull I’d felt toward him, before my father spoke a word of arranged matings. Before duty tried to claim what was already written in our blood.

“I felt it then,” I admitted on a whisper. “When you walked into my father’s court.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, chased quickly by something tentative and delicate. He cupped my cheek gently, brushing his thumb along my lower lip. “What do you mean?”

“The pull.” I dropped my hands to my thighs and slowly bunched my dress higher. “It was never just politics. Never just duty.” I planted a knee outside of his thigh, then the other, kneeling over his lap. “You were my mate from the start.”

His hands found my hips, holding me steady, not moving, just... touching. He canted his head back and stared up at me with molten golden eyes. His fingers shook where they gripped my hips, the smallest tremor against my skin.

“I thought I was losing my mind,” he said. “Wanting the daughter of the king whose heir I’d just killed.”

“Wanting the princess you were being forced to claim.”

“Not forced.” His fingers tightened. “Fated.”

The air rushed from my lungs at the simple truth spoken aloud. All our layers had been peeled back, the masks dropped, the armor shed. We weren’t trapped anymore. This was choice. This was freedom.

This was love.

I kissed him with the certainty of that knowledge, pouring everything I had into it. My fear of losing him, my joy at having found him. My wonder that this fierce, honorable man was mine.

His hands found the fastenings of my gown, deftly undoing them until the silk slid from my shoulders to pool with the rest at my waist. I gripped the top of the high back as I rolled my hips against his, grinding against the hard length of him.

He growled and buried his face in my breasts, teasing my nipples with his teeth and tongue.

His fingers dug into my ass as he guided me to rise just enough for him to work himself free. My breathing sped up as I felt him against my folds, his cock straining to reach me. With aching slowness, I sank down onto him, reveling in the feel of him filling me.

His lips blazed a trail of fire across my chest, alternately licking and biting the tender skin. I began to rock my hips, rising and falling in a torturously slow rhythm. His grip tightened on me, urging me faster, but I ignored him, continuing to torture him with agonizing slowness.

“My queen,” he groaned.

“Your mate,” I murmured, rolling my hips in a way that made him curse.

His lips found mine again, his tongue darting out to trace my lower lip.

I gasped as he nipped it lightly, then soothed the sting with another stroke.

He took advantage of my surprise to drive his hips up hard, forcing himself deeper inside me.

Pleasure flooded my senses as he moved his attention to my neck, sucking and nibbling at my pulse point.

My rhythm faltered as need consumed me. I rode him harder, faster, chasing the building pressure at my core. His hands gripped my ass, guiding my movements as I ground against him. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing through my body.

“Fuck, Talia.” His voice was pure sin against my skin.

“Mark me, Kaz.” I tilted my head and bared my throat. Needed this. Needed him beyond the clinical and ceremonial bites we’d given each other. “Make me yours.”

He growled, the sound vibrating through my chest. His fangs scraped my shoulder, testing, teasing. I shuddered and clenched around him.

“Together,” I gasped, my lips finding the curve where his neck met his shoulder. The salt of his skin, the heat of him, drove me wild. “Come with me.”

Our hips crashed together, the pace turning desperate. His fangs pierced my flesh at the same moment mine sank into him. The taste of him filled my mouth as pleasure exploded through my body.

Fire raced along every nerve. I felt him everywhere, inside me, around me, part of me. His release triggered another wave of pleasure, and I moaned his name against his shoulder as we rode out our shared climax.

Slowly, our movements ceased, our bodies trembling as aftershocks continued to rack us. I pressed light kisses against the bite marks on his neck and grinned as his cock twitched inside me.

Kaz wrapped his arms around my back and gathered me close. We sat like that for several long minutes, tangled together, exchanging lazy kisses and murmured endearments.

“We should go back,” I murmured eventually, though I made no move to get up. “The final toast.”

Kaz groaned and buried his face in my neck. “Five more minutes.”

I laughed against his shoulder. “Five minutes. Then we need to make ourselves presentable.”

Kaz lifted his head, his eyes soft as they traced over my features. His fingers followed, trailing along my cheekbone, down my jaw, lingering at my lips. Such gentleness from hands that commanded fire and blade. Such tenderness from the warrior who’d killed for his clan, for his crown, for me.

“I love you.” His voice was quiet, but steady, a promise sealed in blood. “My queen. My mate.”

I caught his hand and pressed my lips to his knuckles. “I love you. My king. My mate.”

His mouth found mine, the kiss slow and sweet.

Then his tongue swept across my lips and heat flared between us.

I pressed closer, threading my fingers through his hair as the kiss deepened.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands sliding down my back to pull me tighter against him.

Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his tongue made me burn hotter, need more.

Duty could wait a bit longer. For now, it was just us.