Page 31 of The Kingdom's Crown

"Nearly," Bryony gasped, rocking up to meet me.

Her hands reached for me, nails digging into my ass and making me thrust, the other cupping the back of my neck and dragging me down for a kiss. Our tongues slid against one another, matching the rhythm we set with our rocking, bodies colliding with a gentle slap. Bryony's moans were musical, the sound vibrating in my mouth as she swallowed my own groans. She was soft beneath me, stretching to wrap herself around me tighter, hands squeezing and stroking, breasts sticking to my chest.

The room had been cool when we entered, but the fire was a hot glow against my side now and Bryony's magic was a bright buzz skimming over my skin after her release.

"Cress, I love you, please, please don't stop," Bryony whispered, pulling away and pressing her cheek to mine.

I released her leg, wrapped my arms around her back, holding her hips up for me to fall into, Bryony's gasp high in my ear, her fingers digging into me. I hadn't had a woman in months, but I'd never had anything like this in my entire life. It was as if I were falling apart, every thrust seaming me together with my princess. I found her mouth again, a pressure building in my skull, my chest, and at the base of my spine, barely soothed by the messy biting kiss.

She seemed to grow both softer and more desperate beneath me, legs wrapping tighter around me until our movements were pressed into a deep rock and grind. Bryony's mouth tore away from my mine with a high cry, and her cunt squeezed me like a vise, demanding my pleasure. Lightning raced up my spine, and I bit hard on Bryony's throat to muffle my shout.

I lost my edges as the room, the world, narrowed to the sensation of Bryony's body dragging me under the thick blanket of her magic and pleasure until the heat and trembles and teasing prickles were as much my own as they were hers.

9

Bryony

Cresswell's heartbeat was thumping steadily under my cheek, sweat cooling on my spine beneath the blanket he'd wrapped us in without bothering to slide under the covers. We were still sideways on the bed too, a realization that made my lips twitch, breath puffing and teasing the dark curls of hair on his chest.

He had a hand tangled in my hair, and his grip tightened, making me shiver. I wanted more, but something about Cresswell's never-ending teasing before he'd fucked me had left me especially limp and loose after my release. There was still craving, but it was worth ignoring to simply savor what I'd already indulged in.

I slid one hand beneath him, fingering over the scars I'd noticed there earlier, searching for the freshest ones from the attack.

"Let me see," I said, wiggling to sit up.

Cresswell's eyes were closed, but his lips were curled up, cheeks rosy, and he shook his head. "Doesn't hurt. It's just a scar. You have one too."

His hand slid up the arm I'd thrown over his chest, and he opened his eyes at last, the glassy green a little darker than usual. He ran his touch over the mark Emory had left on my shoulder and I shivered, less pleasantly this time.

"It pains you?" he asked.

"Not the scar."

"No," he agreed.

I pressed my lips flat, but Cresswell had already proved his patience. His fingers combed through my tangled strands, eyes tracing the features of my face.

"You told me not to do it myself," I whispered.

"It stays with you.Theystay with you."

Emory. Emory would stay with me, the expression on his face as I'd stolen his life. The question of whether or not I could've made a better choice than to kill him. I tried to not to weigh it out in my head, afraid that one day I'd realize I did the wrong thing.

"I can't fix that for you now," Cresswell said, distracting me with a long touch from my forehead down to the tip of my nose. "And you can't either. You just have to walk alongside it."

I blinked and frowned. "You mean I can't leave it behind me in the past?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not saying that because you killed a man once, you will make the choice the same way every time. But it's there now. And maybe it will help you make a different choice someday."

I sighed and sank back down onto Cresswell's chest, listening to that steady drum beneath my ear, enjoying the careful tug of his fingers through my hair.

"You need to speak with the others," Cresswell said.

I nodded and added, "And then the maid."

"Do you think she was from your sister?"

"Actually, I… Not directly, no. I didn't recognize the woman and—"

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