Page 83 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
“It’s so light,” I say, balancing the weight in my palms.
“Ceramic composite. The finest the realm produces. I figured you would need armor sooner or later.” Ashen traces a finger across the waistband of my panties then down the edge that skirts my leg. “Panties, vampire,” he purrs as his finger glides back up the center, pressing against my clit as he goes. “Take my cock in that pretty cunt and put the chainmail on, then I’ll show you what’s next.”
His demands ignite a tingling current in my skin. I keep hold of Ashen’s hooded gaze as I curl my fingers around his hard length and pull my panties to the side with my other hand, guiding him to my opening. I sink down slowly,soslowly, savouring the heat and fullness as I glide onto Ashen’s cock, inch by torturous inch. When he’s as deep as I can take him, I pull the fitted tunic on and then the chainmail, pausing to watch as Ashen takes in every detail. He narrows his eyes with a thoughtful frown.
“It’s missing something,” he says as he grips my waist with one hand, guiding my rhythm as I start to rock my hips. He reaches over with his free hand and pulls another box toward us. “This one next.”
Not wings, this note says.
I open the box to reveal a brushed gold scale mail cape and matching corset. The short cape flows over the shoulders and partway down the back, the layers of scales designed to protect the wearer’s scapulae. It looks nearly like a set of folded, short wings, the garment bordered by heavy gold chains that balance the fine craftsmanship of the scales.
“No axes this time, I hope,” Ashen says, his voice low and rich as I hold the pieces up and marvel at the detail, the precise tooling and the drama of the layered sheafs of gold. “Put it on.”
Ashen steadies the motion of my hips as I slide the corset over the black chainmail. The mixed pieces settle in place like a second, armored skin, Ashen letting out a low rumble of appreciation at the way the scales of the corset hug my curves. His fingers tighten on my flesh, branding my bare thighs with heat as he spreads them wider, burying his cock in the depths of my pussy as I bite back a whimpering moan.
“I’ve never been fucked into my clothes before,” I say, my voice breathless as I slip the cape onto my shoulders, fixing the chains closed across my ribs to keep it in place.
“Good. In such a long immortal life, I’m happy to have been able to give you a first of anything.”
I lean over Ashen, tracing the slope of his cheek and the line of his jaw. “You’ve given me all my best firsts, Ashen.” I relish the glimmer of surprise in his eyes before I press my lips to his throat. “My first trip to another realm.”
“You consider that a good first?” he asks, his tone skeptical.
“I’d say it turned out pretty great in the long run, the interlude with Gallus aside,” I reply with a press of my lips to his surging pulse. The taste of his inked skin threads across my tongue, mixing with the nectar of venom. “You gave me my first comfort in flame,” I say between kisses, remembering the way Ashen’s arm had slipped behind my back when we passed through his corridor into the Shadow Realm for the first time. “My first dance among the Reapers. My first introduction to the merits of silky sex sheets. My first fangria.”
“If I remember correctly, you suffered for that one.”
“It was worth it. You brought me bacon the next morning. I think you like to bring me snacks. You even brought me my first take-out douchebag meal.”
“The human with the crooked dick in Ravello? No one had brought you prey before?”
I shake my head, smiling fondly at the memory. “No, you were the first. Just like you were my first binding spell. My first rescuer in the Realm of Light. My first resurrection.”
Ashen smirks as he shunts his hips with a powerful thrust from below, eliciting a gasp from me. “If I’d realized earlier how much you liked the Resurrection Chamber, we’d be there right now.”
“First time making love in the Resurrection Chamber, but definitely not the last,” I say with a fading laugh. My touch traces the lines of Ashen’s mark. There are so many moments in the few short months we’ve known each other where I shared with him something I’d never shared with anyone. And so many moments I would never want to have again, not because I want to forget, but because each is a precious star so bright that its hue could never be replicated. “You gave me my first time making love above the clouds. My first and only wedding. My first and only mate. My first and only all-consuming love that lives in my very soul.” My smile dims as I lean back and my gaze tangles with Ashen’s. I still the motion of my hips as I watch these secrets of mine settle into his heart. “The first time someone told me they loved me when I had nothing to give in return, and yet they still loved me anyway. The first time I tried everything I could to push someone away, and yet they still kept coming back for me. That was you. You’re all my best firsts, Ashen.”
Ashen whispers my name and his palm warms my cheek as a sudden swell of tears glass my vision. He swallows, his throat bobbing. A shine films his eyes before Ashen shutters his gaze away and draws me down into a kiss, its fire equal parts love and desire. When we part, I push myself up and shake the heavier emotions away, biting back the rise of tears to give Ashen my sweetest smile.
“You look enchantingly wicked,” Ashen says as his eyes narrow.
“Well, depending on what’s in that last box, Reaper, you might even give me my first time being a well-behaved, obedient little vampire.”
Oh, how I love the way the crimson flame glows in his eyes as my words hit their target.
Ashen’s hand darts out for the last box and I smile as he slides it toward us, resting it on his chest.
Not horns, the note says.
He lifts the lid for me and my breath lingers in my chest, clutched tight by my lungs. I know the instant I see it that Ashen made it.
The simple gold crown glows against the black velvet lining of the box. Layers of scales that match the armor flow from each side toward the center to frame a crescent moon cradling an eight-pointed star of lapis lazuli. Ashen pulls it from my fingers and settles it into my braids, his fingers tracing the line of my cheek as his eyes roam over every inch of the fierce royal I’m dressed to become. “My warrior Queen. So beautiful,” he whispers.
“You made this, didn’t you,” I say as I run my touch over the delicate scales adorning my hair.
“Yes. From the gold mask that was on the statue the Nephilim broke. It felt right to take that which was meant to hide you and reform it into the symbol of your power.”
My heart aches with Ashen’s words, my hand resting over its armored encasements like I could catch the beats that skitter through my chest. But before I can lose myself too deeply in everything I feel, Ashen gives me a grin that grows every bit as sinful as what I would expect from the most powerful demon of the Shadow Realm. My answering smile is suspicious as I tilt my head and regard him.
