Page 121 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

His hands trail down my back, fingers mapping my body like he's trying to commit every inch of me to memory. My own touch is just as desperate, gliding over his arms, his chest, feeling the scars, the wounds that mark him as a warrior, a noble, a naga who fought to the death to bring me back.

The torches cast long shadows against the ruined walls, our breaths mingling in the dim glow. There is nothing but the heat between us, the unspoken need finally given voice, the fire of our bond flaring to life in a way that neither of us can stop.

Xirath growls against my mouth, breaking away only to drag his lips down my jaw, my neck, his hands anchoring me to him as though the universe itself might try to steal me away again.

“I almost lost you.” His voice is raw, his breath scalding against my skin.

“You didn’t.” My fingers tighten around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “You never will.”

The words are a promise. A vow.

Xirath presses his forehead to mine, inhaling sharply, his body taut with restraint.

“Seren,” he murmurs, my name a reverent prayer on his lips.

I reach up, brushing a hand down his cheek, my own heart thundering in my chest. "I'm here."

In one swift motion, he lifts me into his arms and carries me deeper into the chamber, past the remnants of battle, past the shattered pieces of the life I once knew.

I let him.

Tonight is not about the chaos that led us here. It is not about curses or prophecies, fate or war.

Tonight is ours.

I will let him claim me as much as I claim him.

The air in the chamber grows thicker, charged with an electric tension that makes my skin prickle.

Xirath’s golden eyes burn into mine, their intensity almost unbearable, as he lowers me onto a makeshift bed of discarded cloaks and furs. The rough texture beneath me is a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he hovers above, his muscular frame casting a shadow that swallows me whole.

His scales glint in the torchlight, a mesmerizing pattern of gold and black that seems to ripple with every breath he takes.

I reach up, my fingers trembling as they trace the line of his jaw, down the column of his throat, and over the broad expanse of his chest. His skin is warm, almost feverish, and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm. He shudders at my touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest, and I know he’s holding back, restraining the primal force that threatens to consume us both.

“Don’t hold back,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the torches. “I want all of you.”

His eyes darken, the gold deepening to molten amber, and he leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that is both tender and possessive. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me in a way that leaves no doubt of his intentions. I moan into the kiss, my hands sliding down to his hips, urging him closer.

Xirath breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His hands move to the ties of my dress, fingers deftly undoing the laces with a practiced ease that sends a shiver down my spine. The fabric falls away, leaving me exposed to the cool air of the chamber, but the heat of his gaze is enough to keep me warm.

His eyes roam over my body, taking in every curve, every scar, every inch of skin that he’s fought so hard to protect. There’s a reverence in his gaze, a hunger that makes my stomach clench with anticipation. He leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck, trailing a path of fire down to my collarbone.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “Mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends a thrill through me, and I arch into his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Yours,” I agree, my voice breathless. “Always.”

His hands slide down my sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and I can feel the tension in every fiber of his being, the way he’s holding himself back. But I don’t want him to hold back. I want all of him, every raw, primal part of him that he’s kept hidden for so long.

He takes off his armor, and he stands bare in front of me in all his glory.

I reach between us, my fingers brushing against the thick, ridged length of him, and he groans, his hips jerking forward at the contact. The feel of him is overwhelming, the barbs along his hemipenis catching against my skin in a way that sends a jolt of pleasure through me. He’s thick, impossibly so, and the thought of him inside me is both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Xirath,” I breathe, my voice trembling. “I need you.”

He growls, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through my entire body, and in one swift motion, he positions himself between my legs. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he leans down, his lips brushing against my ear.

“I’m going to fuck you hard and raw with all of me,” he moans.

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