Page 183 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

My mouth formed into a pinched smile as I turned to him, still so unused to him being in my head. “What about arrogant?”

He laughed. “Maybe once or twice by a dark-haired beauty.”

My brow rose. “I hope she keeps you humble.”

“She does.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Beyond beautiful.”

Samkiel smiled and walked to the fireplace on the far wall. “I wished to do more, but I have used so much power I’m starting to burn out.”

“Sami.” I shook my head. “This is beyond my wildest dreams, but you don’t have to impress me, especially when the cost is that. Trust me. I am already impressed.”

“I’m fine, and I’ll sleep later.” The way he said later had another shiver running across my body, and I wondered if it was my emotions or his I was feeling. He crouched and placed a couple of logs before snapping his fingers. A flame shimmered silver before catching and then burning a deep orange. A comfortable warmth slowly replaced the chill in the room. “Just wait until we have another ceremony when I’m fully restored, and everyone can be there. It will be even more extravagant than this.”

I smiled, knowing he meant it, but this had been so much more than I could ever wish for. Today made me whole. “You know, on Onuna, usually the bride would have something scandalous underneath her dress to torment her husband with.”

“Oh?” Samkiel said, wiping his hands as he stood and turned to look at me. He sauntered over, unbuttoning his jacket. He stopped right in front of me and ran his fingers along the strap of my dress. “You don’t need that to torment me. All you have to do is look at me, and I get hard. Your mere existence does things to me.”

“Does it?” I ran my hands up his chest to his thick, broad shoulders.

“But,” Samkiel said, “I do quite enjoy the devilishly wicked things you find.”

“Oh, yeah?” My smile was downright devious as I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. “I find certain things you wear rather enticing, too.”

Samkiel chuckled. “You do? Like what?”

I stepped around him, dragging my hand down his arm as I headed toward the foot of the bed. I threw him a heated glance over my shoulder. My nipples tightened as I slipped the straps down my arms and turned to face him. I swore my breasts swelled beneath the touch of his hungry gaze.

He took a determined step toward me, but I raised my hand, stopping him. “We are married now, yes?”

Confusion flooded his eyes. “Yes.”

“That means I am your queen, yes?”

The corners of his mouth lifted in satisfaction. “Yes.”

“Therefore, you obey your queen, right?”

Heat flared in his eyes, and I was mesmerized as silver flooded his irises. “Yes.”

“Good,” I said, my hands going to the back of my dress, the movement lifting my breasts toward him. I slowly released the buttons at the small of my back. “Stay there until I tell you otherwise.”

His hands flexed before turning into fists, and he clamped them behind his back. “What are you doing?”

“I told you I had fantasies, right?” My dress slid down my body in a soft susurration of sound to pool around my feet, leaving me completely bared to him. “Well, this fantasy occurred back on the remains of Rashearim when you wore your council garbs.”

His adyin burst to life with silver light as he slowly lowered his hands. I saw the hard ridge of his cock thicken between his legs.

“Fantasy?” His throat bobbed. “Of me?”

I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, scooting back just a fraction. I didn’t need to see his arms to know the muscles beneath his clothes were strained as he watched me. Setting my heels on the edge of the mattress, I spread my legs wide for him. He took a shuddering breath, his eyes falling straight to my already slick sex.

“Do you want to see what I did one night while you were away? I couldn’t sleep, and I’d grown frustrated with the on-again-off-again tension between us. So I slipped my hand like this.”

Samkiel went rigid as my hand swept a pass over my sex. My fingers drew smooth, slow circles around my clit. Pleasure speared through me, and a moan parted my lips. I loved seeing the way he watched every stroke with feral, wild need.

“Dianna.” His voice was a warning. “I am not this strong.”

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