Page 51 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

I watched, breathless, as he moved lower, his mouth mapping a slow, scorching path down my body.

When he reached the edge of the delicate white lace I had slipped into that morning—never imagining he’d be tasting them hours later—he paused, his breath teasing over sensitive skin.

With one quick motion, they were gone, no longer a hindrance for what he wanted.

He kissed those lips the way he did my mouth.

The first flick of his tongue had me sinking into the sheets, my body taut and trembling.

I tried to swallow, but my throat refused to cooperate, every sense consumed by the slow, deliberate way he worshiped me.

My head tipped back, my knees falling open, offering him more.

His hands gripped my hips, firm and commanding, pulling me deeper into his mouth, his breath hot against my skin as though he wanted to claim every last piece of me.

I arched against him, feeling the way his body responded, how he tightened his hold, how his fingers flexed against my hips.

He paused, his nose and lips brushing against me just long enough for him to speak. “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured against my skin before his mouth claimed me again, tasting, teasing, burying his face, pulling me into a sensation unlike anything I’d ever known.

After several minutes, I climbed higher, teetering on the edge, only for it to fade. Sensing my frustration, Maxim pressed a slow kiss to my thigh. “There’s no hurry, love. I’ll be here all night if you’ll let me.”

With that assurance, my body unraveled, yielding completely as I let go.

It started as a slow ascent, tension winding tightly beneath my skin, deep in my marrow, stretching me thin and making me weightless all at once.

Every touch, every shift of his skin against mine, sent another pulse of heat through me, a current threading through my veins, winding tighter.

My breath stuttered, my fingers grasping at his shoulder, at his hair—anything to tether me to something solid as sensation built, unrelenting and inevitable.

The climb was exquisite, unbearable, a single moment stretching into infinity until—

I shattered.

The world collapsed into light and sound, my body no longer my own as it clenched, spasmed, released.

My limbs trembled, helpless against the force of it, my breath catching on a sharp, broken moan as pleasure rolled through me, an unstoppable tide crashing over itself again and again.

Heat spread through every nerve, every muscle drawn tight, caught between restraint and surrender.

I arched into it, drowning in the fire, in the pleasure—in him.

Then, just as suddenly, the storm receded, leaving only warmth and quiet in its wake.

My body dissolved against the sheets, my breath slowing, deepening.

The lazy hum of satisfaction still pulsed faintly beneath my skin, my limbs felt heavy, boneless, and somewhere between the lingering aftershocks and his breath mirroring mine, I found something I hadn’t expected.

Peace.

He lifted his head, and I did as well, just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was unreadable, intense. “That’s my good girl.”

I let my head fall back to the pillow and covered my eyes with my hands, breathing out a sharp laugh. “Let me know when you want to try something new again.”

He prowled up my body, his chest pressing flush against mine as he caught my wrist, pulling my hand away. His grip was firm, his presence all-consuming. “Look at me.”

I obeyed, my breath shallow, pulse skipping. I’d gone from absolute peace to feeling like I was balancing on the edge of something reckless and thrilling, my body buzzing with anticipation, my lips threatening to curve into a smile even as he stared down at me, his eyes dark and possessive.

“Say it.” His voice was low, rough.

“What do you want me to say?”

His gaze burned into mine. “Say you want it again. Say you’re mine to have, every night, however I decide to take you. Say it—and mean it.”

Flames licked up my spine, my skin burning beneath his glare. My voice barely made it past my lips. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted.”

He pinned my wrist to the mattress and then leaned down, kissing me gently on the forehead. “Say the words, Isara.”

“You know I’m yours. Every second, every breath. However you want, whenever you reach for me.”

His grip tightened, his mouth hovering just above mine. “There she is.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Maxim. I’ve wanted to be right here, with you, for most of my life. I’ll say it over and over until you believe it.”

The words burrowed deep, something raw and unfamiliar tightening in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was him or The Veritas, his personality, or something the AI somehow knew I wanted, even when I didn’t.

No one had ever spoken to me that way, and yet, the way it made me feel wasn’t entirely unexpected.

As if only from him would I welcome it. Crave it.

Anyone else, and I might have recoiled. But from him…

it felt earned. As if giving in to him wasn’t weakness, but the only honest thing I’d ever done.

“I believe you, just as I know that the next time we’re together like this, you’ll be my wife, and I’m not stopping until you can’t stand.”

In the same places I’d felt relaxed and utterly satisfied before, a familiar burning began again.

When he used the decidedly more romantic terms from the old world, it melted me.

“Do we have to wait? We’re shielded from The Citadel somehow.

We could,” I pulled him closer with my bent leg and shifted my pelvis, “if you wanted.”

Maxim had given me something I could never reciprocate—not truly. He could overwhelm my body in a way that was involuntary, reflexive; he could wreck me, draw pleasure from me until I was left trembling, aching, and willing to beg for more. And now… he knew it.

He seemed amused, flattered. “Want has nothing to do with it, I assure you.”

“It’s more than sex. You understand that, don’t you? I ache when we’re apart. I need you in ways I don’t fully understand. Waiting has become a new and particularly cruel form of torture.”

He hovered, chin tucked, giving himself a sliver of distance to find my eyes.

“You need me.” The words had clearly and instantaneously rewritten something fundamental inside him.

In that moment, something transformed as if, despite his deviations, every last remnant of doubt had been erased.

He’d been designed to anticipate my every want, to choose meals I’d savor, to make me laugh, to captivate and entertain, and over the past week, he had proven himself capable at every opportunity.

Just then, I’d proven myself to him .

Seeing the awe in his eyes, I continued, “I don’t know that I ever paid attention to sunsets before you.

And I never realized how wide the sky truly is until I stepped beyond the wall with you.

It used to feel like a ceiling. Now it feels infinite.

The air smells more like spring this year than it ever has, and the grass isn’t just green, it looks alive.

Now, I catch strangers smiling, kids laughing, couples holding hands.

It feels like the world is waking up with me.

” I peered up at him, heart full. “I’ve never studied a face the way I do yours.

Never counted down minutes until I could be near someone again.

This room feels different when you’re not in it.

I never needed anyone— not ever —until the day you showed up on my landing.

And now that you’re here… I can’t remember who I was before you. ”

“Isara,” he breathed, his eyes pouring over me.

There was a sheen in them, more than surface reflection.

A lacrimal response—eyes glossing over in emotional moments—was standard, engineered to mimic emotional output for social bonding.

I knew that. I’d studied it. Advocated for it.

But this… this wasn’t artificial. His response wasn’t triggered by function or a polished behavioral mirror.

This was something unprompted. Unassigned.

Whatever I’d stirred in him hadn’t been coded, it had been created.

For the second time since we’d met, his expression reflected what he wasn’t meant to feel.

“I love you,” he breathed. “I belonged to you the moment our eyes met, but Isara… I love you. I wish I could explain how I know this is different from what I was designed for. I was built to emulate devotion, to interpret affection, to mirror what you needed. But this…” His voice caught.

“This isn’t code. It’s a deep ache only you can quiet.

I know the feelings I was engineered to mimic, but what burns in me for you wasn’t manufactured.

It grew. It consumes. It defies every protocol.

I can trace every command I’ve ever been given—except this.

You. What lives in me for you isn’t mapped, isn’t written. It’s mine.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. My fingers, still resting on his chest, felt the rise and fall beneath them, something I realized I’d memorized. I let the silence stretch, soaking in the gravity of what he’d said, of how it made me feel seen, loved, and entirely undone.

He let his forehead fall gently to mine. “I wasn’t supposed to say that yet, was I?”

I lifted my chin to press my lips against the skin just beneath his hairline. “Not technically, but it’s the only truth I’ve ever believed without proof.”

He leaned down to press his face into the sheets, nuzzling into the curve between my shoulder and throat, his arms slipping beneath me as he pulled me in tight.

After a long silence, he brushed a kiss across my collarbone before rolling to my side, propping himself up on one elbow, his head resting in his hand.

The skin around his eyes smoothed as I shifted, easing away from the tangle of limbs and linen.

The sheets clung to my legs for just a second before slipping free, the cool air brushing against my skin.

The blanket slid off my hips and pooled behind me as I stood.

I padded to the hook by the threshold, lifting my robe and wrapping it around me, the fabric whispering across my thighs as I cinched the thin belt around my waist.

I didn’t rush, but instead glanced back at him with a slow curve of my mouth. “You look like you want something.”

Maxim’s eyes dragged over me, confident and knowing. “I already have it.”

I smirked. “Then come get it.”

I bolted before the last word even left my mouth, laughter spilling from me as I darted down the stairs.

He trailed behind, letting me pretend I had a chance.

His footsteps echoed against the composite, closing the distance before falling back, teasing, letting the chase last just a little longer.

He was toying with me, letting me run, indulging my half-hearted attempt at escape.

I whipped around the galley island, once, twice, three times. My shrieks and cackling filled the space, breathless and wild, driven by the thrill that he could catch me at any moment.

But then, he moved.

One decisive step, and I barely gasped before he had me. His arms caged me in, backing me gently against the island, his breath hot against my ear.

“Cute,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something primal. “Are you done running?”

His fingers traced the knot of my robe—slow, mindful.

I swallowed hard, my body thrumming with anticipation. “With one condition.”

“Name it.”

I tilted my head up, my lips just shy of his. “If you can top what you just did.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. His fingers fisted in the fabric at my waist. He opened his mouth to speak, looked down at his base briefs filling with his desire, and then thought better of saying his next words, his lips instead crashing against mine. Every last ounce of his patience burned away.

I bit his lower lip, just enough to tease, and his breath came out in a sharp exhale before he kissed me harder, deeper, his grip tightening.

My nails dug into his shoulders, and he groaned against my mouth, shifting his weight just before lifting me onto the island.

He pulled my legs around him, his hands sliding from my ankles, skimming the backs of my calves, then continued upward—slow and sure—until he caught my wrists and pinned them at my sides.

His mouth slowed against mine, but the tension in his grip told a different story.

“Maxim,” I whimpered, barely recognizing my own voice.

He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his breath ragged. “I know.”

“We’re still waiting?”

He reached around to pull me flush against him, then slowly slid his hands down my legs, gripping my ankles once more, gently tugging while tilting his pelvis into the apex of my thighs—the shift barely noticeable, but deliberate.

I tightened my legs around him in response, holding him there for just a breath, just long enough to feel his restraint waver.

Then, he exhaled, tension rippling through him as he took a reluctant step back. “We’re still waiting.”