Page 120 of Serpent King's Prisoner

We crossed the threshold into my room, a sanctuary of sorts where the world outside ceased to exist. It was here, standing in nothing but our underwear, that I finally allowed myself to slow down. The reality of what we were doing—what this would mean—crashed over me, and I caught her gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation.

Hesitation about me.

About us.

About the fact that she’d just agreed to marry me, against all odds…

“Abby,” I said, voice low and steady, “do you want this?”

Her eyes held mine, green flames dancing within them, and she nodded.

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her trust. “I will always ask,” I promised, knowing that this wasn’t just about tonight. “Because I…I don’t want to hurt you again. I won’t—“

She pressed her finger to my lips, hushing me. But I needed to tell her. Every time, every touch, I would give her the choice, because that’s what you did when you...cared.

Loved.

“Then ask, Nathan,” she challenged with a smirk, her green eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper, wilder. “Beg for it, the same way you’ve made me beg.”

The air shifted between us, charged with a power that had nothing to do with the criminal empire I was born into. This was primal, a dance as old as time, and one I was more than willing to perform for her.

I dropped to my knees, the hardwood floor beneath me forgotten as I looked up at her. She stood there, fierce and unyielding, a goddess in black lace. “Abby, I need to touch you,” I said, each word laced with the raw need that tightened every muscle in my body. “Please…please let me touch you.”

“Do it,” she consented, her voice a velvet command that sent shivers through me—shivers of anticipation, not fear.

My hands, those same hands that had spilled blood and brutalized her, trembled as they reached out to her hips. Fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, I peeled them down her legs, revealing more of her fair skin sprinkled with freckles—a constellation I was desperate to explore.

She stepped out of the delicate fabric now pooled around her ankles, still wearing her bra. From my position on the ground, I saw her in a way that felt almost reverent. It was a view no one else had ever been granted; it was mine and mine alone.

“Abby,” I whispered, my voice rough with desire.

“Say my name again,” she demanded, threading her fingers through my black hair, sending a jolt straight to my core.

“Abby,” I repeated, the taste of her name sweet on my tongue.

“Good,” she praised with a smirk that could set the city on fire. “Now, I want you to lick me.”

Her words were my command, an order that I was all too eager to obey. I leaned in, pressing a kiss just above her belly button—a gentle press of lips to skin, a stark contrast to the burning desire coursing through me.

With each inch lower, I kissed her, mapping the route from her belly to the heat between her thighs. Each kiss was a silent vow, a moment of devotion, despite the darkness that normally defined my world. My tongue traced a long line up her slit, and she shuddered above me, a gasp breaking from her lips.

“More,” she breathed, a single word that urged me to abandon restraint.

I licked her harder, the taste of her intoxicating, grounding me in this moment of pure, unbridled passion. Abby’s hands tightened in my hair, grounding her too—as if she needed to make sure this wasn’t some dream spun from the dark threads of our lives.

“Abby,” I groaned against her, letting her know without words that this, right here, was where I wanted to be.

Always.

Her leg hooked over my shoulder, a deliberate move that offered more of her to me. I steadied her with one hand on her waist, the other gripping her thigh, helping her maintain the delicate balance between control and abandon. Each lash of my tongue drew sounds from her that seemed to resonate somewhere deep inside me, a primal beat in the silent night.

“Enough,” she suddenly commanded, her voice thick with need. “Nathan…I need you…”

In one fluid motion, Abby pulled me up by the collar of my undershirt, her lips crashing against mine.

She kissed me hard, her strength surprising as it always was. With a shove, she sent me stumbling back. My feet tangled, and I fell onto the bed, the world tilting dangerously for a moment. The sight of her above me was something fierce, something precious—a vision inked into my memory.

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