Page 63 of Water Dragon
“I adore you,” she murmured. “Perhaps a little too much.”
She opened her eyes, catching his smug smile, and punched him in the chest.
“Ow,” he complained, then grabbed her wrists again, bringing her hands to the spot she had just hit. “No more,” he said. “Only this,” he added, reaching up to tenderly tuck one lock of her hair behind her ear.
“There might be a bit of punching too,” she warned. “When warranted.”
He raised his eyebrows, shifting his hips so she could feel his excitement pressing against her. She smiled crookedly, bringing her mouth to his for a deep kiss as she shifted as well, lining him up so that she could take him inside of her. She rolled around him, then ground herself against him once he was filling her. She wanted it to be quick; she wanted it to be loud; she wanted him to be unable to hold back his pleasure. It was all those things.
“Stop,” he panted, but she refused, only riding him harder until he was groaning loudly. He spilled into her, and she felt wildly triumphant that she was the one to cause him such unbridled ecstasy. She hadn’t peaked with him, but she was aching pleasurably, and there would be plenty of time for her to get her needs met later.
For now, she just wanted to wash his back clean of the travails of their day so that their night could be all about their promises to one another.
***
She chose a blue dress out of the queen mother’s closet. She felt as though Malcolm’s mother would have approved of it. It was made of crushed velvet—which was traditional for a bonding ceremony—and invitingly simple in its design. Though it sported elaborate embroidery along the neckline and the wide sleeves.
Her father had arrived. Her mother had put away her apron. And the guests were all waiting in the great hall.
Typically, there would be flowers and friends to titter and tattle with, but Iona’s only friend was the dragon who would be waiting for her at the center of the bonding circle.
Iona’s hearts thrilled at the thought.
Malcolm. Her true mate. Her only love. Soon he would be hers and she would be his.
She looked at herself in the full-length mirror of Malcolm’s guest bedroom. She’d chosen it to get ready in, rather than getting dressed together with Malcolm. Even though it was all happening so fast, she thought they could still honor some of the traditions. She liked the idea that he wouldn’t know what she would be wearing until she joined him in the circle. She wondered what he would think of her choice.
She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind whatever she chose to wear.
“Queen,” she said out loud, tasting the word.
She was humbled, and she felt ready, even though the enormity of it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. They weren’t going the traditional route with a month’s official courtship and waving from balconies and introducing her to the court as Malcolm’s chosen mate before even starting to plan the bonding ceremony.
The court would have to accept that she was now claiming the seat next to their king. There was nothing anyone could say or do to make it not so. And she would prove herself worthy of the crown, if not of their respect. Perhaps, if she was diligent, in a century or two, she might even earn that.
The thought brought a smile to her face.
She was ready.
She walked through the hallways, keeping her chin high.
There were heads turning, eyebrows raised, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead. She didn’t need to acknowledge anyone she didn’t wish to acknowledge, and in the same manner, they had ignored her for so many years, she now had every right to ignore them. They didn’t have to know that she didn’t want to let their disdain touch this moment. Not even for half a blink of it. She was far beyond letting their opinion sway her. Their opinion did not matter.
Only her own did.
And, of course, it didn’t hurt that their future king thought highly of her.
She reached the steps taking her down to the doors of the great hall, which stood open. There were flowers everywhere because of the tournament, and she briefly pretended they had been put up for her and Malcolm. Even though they hadn’t, their sweet fragrance filled the air and worked to expel the noise and dirt and calamity of earlier.
Here, there was peace at last.
She stopped in the doorway, her gaze falling on those gathered at the center of the hall. The visiting kings and queens were forming the outer ring, while her mother, father, and King Morton were forming the center ring in which Malcolm waited.
For her.
Her hearts lit, and she started across the floor, heads turning as she entered, small smiles granted. A few broad ones as well. She returned them, unable to stop smiling if she so tried. She could glimpse Malcolm, but it wasn’t until she reached King Hugh and Queen Blair, walking between them to enter the center of the circles, that her eyes met his.
There was warmth in his gaze and such deep love that she thought it might make her fall apart.
