Page 76 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate
***
Six weeks later, after a long, exhausting day of caring for our baby, we retire to bed alone for once, leaving her with only our most trusted nurses for a while. Now that Aurelie is finally asleep, I know better than to anticipate being ravaged. Instead, because Arvoren knows how exhausted I am, we go slow.
He takes me to our bed, kissing me with a sweetness I didn’t know until recently he possessed the capacity for. His touch is gentle as he lays me on our bed, the sheets cool against my skin. He takes his time, fingers tracing patterns of frost and flame across my body. Each caress is reverent, worshipful, as if he's rediscovering territory both familiar and new.
I reach for him, but he catches my hands, pressing soft kisses to my palms.
"Let me," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion. "Let me show you how much I love you."
His lips follow the path his fingers blazed, leaving trails of tingling heat in their wake. He lingers at the places where pregnancy has changed me—the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts, the silvery marks stretched across my belly. Through our bond, I feel his fierce pride, his endless wonder at what my body has accomplished.
"Beautiful," he breathes against my skin. His hands cradle my hips, thumbs tracing the skin there. "Perfect."
I shiver as his lips follow, kissing a reverent path across my belly. Through our bond, I feel his awe—not just at my body, but at everything it represents. The strength that carried our child, the magic that nurtured her, the love that brought us to this moment.
Arvoren takes his time, savoring each new curve and hollow. His touch is feather-light but leaves trails of tingling heat in its wake. When he finally settles between my thighs, I'm trembling with need.
"Arvoren," I breathe, fingers tangling in his hair.
He looks up, eyes dark with desire. He wants me so badly that I can almost taste it, a fierce, desperate desire for me.
"Tell me what you need," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh.
"You," I whisper. "Just you."
His tongue traces delicate patterns, frost and flame dancing wherever he touches. I arch into the sensation, magic thrumming beneath my skin. Arvoren takes his time, savoring each gasp and shiver as if committing them to memory.
When he finally presses his fingers inside me, it's with exquisite care. I tip my head back and moan softly in my throat, desperate for him, needing this so very immensely. Through our bond, I feel everything he can't put into words—gratitude, wonder, fierce protectiveness, and love so deep it makes my chest ache.
His hands caress my sides, tracing the new curves in amazement. His touch leaves trails of tingling warmth, chasing away any lingering aches. I arch into him, craving more of that soothing heat.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion. His lips trace over me, pressing soft kisses to each stretch mark, each scar and blemish. Each patch of soft, unbroken skin.
I reach for him, but he cages me gently with his body, pressing us back against the pillows.
"Let me," he breathes against my skin. "Let me worship you properly."
He lowers back to my sex and his mouth continues its reverent exploration, lingering at the places most sensitive from nursing on his way down. The scrape of his teeth on my clit sends shivers through me, pleasure tinged with the faintest edge of pain, fingers still within me.
His touch grows more insistent, stoking the fire building within me. When his tongue presses hard against me while his fingers curl, I gasp, arching into the sensation. I tangle my fingers in his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away from the almost overwhelming sensation. Through our bond, I feel his fierce joy, his pride in drawing these reactions from me.
"Arvoren," I breathe. The dual stimulation has me trembling on the edge.
His fingers curl again inside me, finding that perfect spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. His tongue traces intricate patterns, alternating between feather-light teasing and firm strokes that have me gasping his name. Frost spreads across the sheets in delicate spirals, catching the candlelight like diamonds.
Through our bond, I feel Arvoren's fierce joy at my pleasure, his pride in drawing these reactions from me. Steam rises where his fever-hot skin meets my cooler flesh, creating a sensual mist that carries the mingled scents of our arousal.
I arch into his touch, magic thrumming beneath my skin in time with the building tension. Arvoren hums in approval, the vibration sending new waves of sensation coursing through me. His free hand strokes my thigh, leaving trails of tingling warmth in its wake.
Arvoren's touch grows more insistent, his fingers curling inside me as his tongue traces intricate patterns. I arch into the sensation, frost blooming across the sheets in delicate spirals. Steam rises where his fever-hot skin meets my cooler flesh, creating a sensual mist that carries our mingled scents.
"Let go," he murmurs against my inner thigh, his breath scorching. "I've got you. Let yourself fall."
I surrender to the building pleasure, trembling as waves of sensation wash over me. My magic surges in response, frost and flame dancing across my skin. Arvoren groans, pressing closer as if he can't bear even an inch of space between us.
As the aftershocks subside, Arvoren gathers me into his arms. His skin burns fever-hot against mine, chasing away the lingering chill. I curl into his warmth, savoring the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
"I love you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. His fingers trace idle patterns along my spine, leaving trails of tingling heat in their wake.