Page 92 of King of Storms and Feathers

“Fuck,” I breathed, my fingers digging into her shoulders. She gasped, and I had to force my muscles to loosen.

“Feeling distracted yet?” she asked as my weeping shaft sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around its base.

I grunted a vague affirmative noise as my hips jerked toward her smiling mouth.

“Shall I stop, then?” She blew a slow breath up my length, repeating the motion twice more. “Perhaps you’d prefer to gather your wits for your arrival.”

My thighs shook, and my head spun with lust. “Not for all the gold in the realms,” I choked out.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced my pulsing veins, teasing until I cursed again. Finally, her lips closed around the head, and she sucked, warm and wet. Just the once.

“Would you beg for more if I wanted you to?” she challenged.

“I would hand you my crown, if you promised to do that forever.”

Fisting my root, her tongue circled, lapping the pearl-colored strands of lust, her teeth grazing sensitive flesh. I growled like an animal, then followed her suggestion and begged.

“Please… suck me. Now… I’m begging… can’t wait.”

Slowly, she took me deep inside her sweet mouth, her cheeks hollow with the effort. She dragged the blissful pressure up, then bobbed hard and fast on my tip before repeating the pattern thrice more.

I thrashed against the seat, thunder crashing outside in response. I was a wild creature, not a king, not a storm god. I was her slave, and this human was my queen.

“Good girl. So good. You’re perfect.” The sweet, musky scent of her arousal driving me wilder, I bucked into her mouth. “Tell me you’re mine. Say it.”

The suction and pressure was too good, almost unbearable. She wanted to send me out of my mind so I would forget what I had told her. Forget I’d asked her to say she was mine and always would be. I wanted to hear her say it so badly that I didn’t even care if it was true.

My thumbs caressed her cheeks and lips where they stretched around my shaft, I shuddered and groaned, and… the carriage ground to a halt. Pleasure-drugged and moaning, I couldn’t have cared if we’d arrived at the gates to the hell realms. I just needed her to finish what she’d started.

“Don’t stop,” I said, my voice harsh. The sight of her mouth enveloping me, her soft moans vibrating over my skin, brought me to the edge of madness again. “Fuck.” My fingernails tore into the leather seat. I was so close, shuddering and about to erupt. Then two sharp knocks sounded on the side of the carriage.

Leaf’s head jerked off me, her lips making a wet sound. She grinned as Raiden’s armored back appeared in the far window, his face directed away from us as his voice rumbled near the door. “We’ve arrived, King Arrowyn.”

“Give us a moment,” I rasped.

Leaf parted her mouth, and Raiden cleared his throat. She dipped her head, but I motioned for her to wait.

“Arrow, the Zareen is standing not ten steps away, waiting to welcome you.”

The lust fizzled from my blood, replaced by annoyance. “Gods damn the Zareen. Why must she always be punctual? It’s a very vexing habit,” I said, stifling a laugh as Leaf tucked me back into my leathers, then quickly fastened them.

“I’ll finish distracting you in our tent,” she whispered, her grass-green irises brimming with mischief.

“I shall look forward to it,” I said, leaping from the carriage, then helping her step out.

I placed Leaf’s hand on my forearm, and we walked along a carpet of wildflowers woven into a ceremonial pathway. It led us through the golden desert and past four carriages from Coridon containing Ari, Ildri, Stormur, Esen, and other members of my court.

Leaf’s eyes widened as she surveyed Auryinnia. The mountain loomed before us, paved in gold all the way to the high summit. At the base, enormous gilded arches flanked a gaping entrance into its interior. And finally, the formidable Zareen herself, who stood statue-still before us, swathed in a gown of embroidered gold.

Like all fae creatures, the Zareen looked ageless. She resembled her sister, my magnificent Sayeeda, but as matriarch of the reavers, her elven features were even more enhanced. Long elvish ears swept back from her head like scythes, framing her towering cone-shaped headdress.

She was the tallest reaver elf I’d ever seen, matching even my height, and every part of her body shimmered in hues of darkest gold. In looks and demeanor, she surpassed that of any god or king of any realm in existence, including me. Her serene presence was humbling, soothing, and today, I greeted her with a genuine smile of pleasure. I had missed her.

As was the customary reaver greeting, we bowed to each other, our hands pressed together and steepled under our chins. Leaf stood beside me and watched us silently, her fingers digging into the side of her thigh, the gesture that told me of her unease.

She was right to be nervous. The Zareen did not suffer disrespect with patience. If Leaf’s tongue hadn’t been so delightfully occupied during the journey, I might have thought to warn her to mind it when we arrived.

“So, warrior king,” said the Zareen, “your first visit in three years, and you bring your human slave to meet me.”

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