Page 15 of King of Pride and Talons

His movements affected Breya more intensely, pushing her further toward the edge. Maintaining eye contact, Thorne slid a hand between them again, adding an extra layer of pleasure. His firm width inside her combined with his fingers skillfully built her climax to a fever pitch.

"Thorne," she whispered as he continued his relentless, delicious assault.

His eyes, darkened by desire, were locked onto hers. A primal groan resonated from deep within him, vibrating against the sensitive skin of her throat where his lips grazed. "Let go, darling," he rumbled, his voice a sultry command that set Breya’s nerves ablaze.

His fingers found that sensitive bud between her thighs and rubbed hard in circular motions, driving her closer to the edge. Dancing flames of pleasure ignited along her, burning hotter and brighter as he increased his pace, their bodies moving as one.

"Thorne!" she cried out again as her world began to spiral. Her body tightened around him instinctively as he grunted his approval.

Her body convulsed around him as ecstasy ripped through her in a bright starburst of pleasure that left her breathless and quivering in his arms. Thorne's body began to stiffen against her, muscles rippling underneath wet skin slick from sweat and shower spray.

His grip on her tightened as his movements became more deliberate, more desperate. A deep guttural groan vibrated up from his chest and resonated against her skin.

"My King," she whimpered, fingers digging into his shoulders as she felt him pulse inside of her, the powerful sensation threatening to send her spiraling into another wave of pleasure.

With a final roar that resembled his lion's side and sent shivers down her spine, Thorne reached his climax. He pressed himself deeper into her with a trembling groan, his body taut as a bowstring. The pleasure etched onto his face mirrored the stars still dancing in Breya’s vision.

Then he stilled, his chest heaving against hers as he took in ragged breaths. His eyes were shut tightly, eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. The intensity of their shared bliss left them both gasping for air amid the steam and rushing water.

She could feel him throbbing within her, slowly deflating as waves of satisfaction washed over him. His hold on her loosened and she felt her feet touch the ground again as he carefully lowered her.

For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke. His arms wrapped around her in a tender embrace while they allowed their heartbeats to return to normal rhythms.

EIGHT

THORNE

Thorne was ravenous from a long night of lovemaking. The king wasn’t new to the concept of long sex sessions. He had quite a few women in his royal bed over the years and done things many gymnasts could only dream about. His shifter abilities made for quite the flamboyant escapades. But it was all incomparable to the fusion of souls that he experienced with Breya.

It was as if sex was being redefined as something that transcended the general salaciousness of the central act. Sure, naughty thoughts crossed his mind the morning after. And they likely would forever. But it was the merging of two spirits that truly felt like providence.

The king didn't want to deter Breya, though. So he kept a lot of his musings to himself. There was no doubt about her enjoyment, for she was not one that shied away from enthusiastic expression. That was another trait that made him wish to spend all his days entangled in the fever of her naked form.

Alas, he had a kingdom to rule. And despite the distraction of his mate, he did care for his people. It would split his heart in two if he ever had to pick between them. He tried to let go of that nightmarish thought, giving his undying attention to the woman adorned in a teal silk robe.

Breya sat across the table from him, a vision of coal-black ringlets framing her face like angry storm clouds. Her eyes were brilliant green, shining on her pretty face. Every now and then, her cheeks bloomed with tints of rose. Thorne realized it was whenever he posed a question about her known healing abilities.

The king found her coyness flattering and alluring.

“Have you always been like this?” he asked, tearing apart a croissant fresh from the oven.

“Like what?" she replied, attempting to conceal the red that pricked her cheeks.

“So modest. Every time we talk about your abilities, your head lowers, but your eyes shine. You can be honest with me. I have heard a few things from the other witches about you. You are quite famous."

The blush returned, fuller and a more vivid scarlet. They had just eaten a large breakfast, consisting of eggs, bacon, pancakes, sliced mango and melon, toast, and of course, her favorite hazelnut beverage.

“I don't know if I'd say famous,” she muttered, gazing down as her fingers began to trace the empty coffee mug. “The village where I'm from isn't very big. And there are only a handful of witches. I am the healer, so I suppose I am easy to know."

The king smiled on only one side of his face. Breya's eyes twinkled, and she pointed at him.

“What?"

"You do that. You do that a lot. That smile. That smirk."

For a moment, Thorne was worried. He thought she looked irritated. He raised both hands in the air.

"I assure you I mean no offense."

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