Page 171 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

He stopped. His eyes were still filled with shadows, but I could see and sense the concern behind them.

“Still with me?” he asked quietly.

The fact that he’d asked—the man who could’ve demanded anything from me in that moment and I would’ve given it—undid me more completely than everything before it.

“More than ever,” I confirmed, certain though I sounded a little breathless.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, and when we kissed again, it had none of the carefulness of before. It had heat and intention.

I was done being careful. And he was done being patient.

He thrust into me with renewed passion, grinding the muscles I’d been ogling that morning on the balcony into the perfect spot until I started to come apart again.

“Look at me, Luna. Show me how I make you feel.”

Held firm within his arms, the wave came over me with such blinding intensity that I lost all sense of the world. The echo of everything he felt as I fell apart in his arms crashed through me, doubling the intensity until I couldn't tell where my sensation ended and his began.

The sweet nothings he murmured into my ear guided me back as I came down from the peak. “So perfect, my moonlight.” He nudged his nose against mine in a playful bunny kiss then whispered, “But I need you to do that again.”

“Need, huh?” I teased, cheeks hot with pleasure.

“Always.” His magic slipped beneath me as he kneeled again.

One second I was flat on the bed, the next my lower back tilted upward, my body angled up to meet him. My hips settled onto the angled conjured pillow, and he lined himself up. “I want to watch every inch go in. Wrap your legs around me so I can worship you properly.”

His first thrust was painfully slow, but then he set a steady pace that made the entire heavy oak bedframe shake. I wanted to laugh at what everyone outside the room must think—it was the middle of the day, after all, but I was so lost in his touch that it stopped mattering.

He reached down from where he kneeled above me and pressed his palm into my mound with steady thrusts. Gods, I was going to come again. A flash of wild satisfaction that wasn't mine and yet somehow was broke through our bond. I could feel him throbbing within me too, but he was holding himself back. “Join me, Owain. Just like this. Keep going.”

The same enthusiasm he’d shown since I’d awoken won out. His steady pace continued, and he became impossibly harder. That pushed me over the edge. A thrilling warmth surged through me as pulsing waves of pleasure blinded me anew.

In the throes of his climax, the unintelligible sweet nothings he kept up swallowed my name whole.

Still pulsing from my own, I opened my eyes to see that shadows had filled the room, blocking out so much of the light that I could barely see him. He came with a roar trapped in his throat, flooding my body with warmth.

Just like before, he nearly collapsed atop me, catching himself on his hands in time. This brought him close enough to steal another kiss.

“My moonlight,” he whispered into my ear. “My world.”

“Then you’re my sanctuary,” I murmured back. And my thoughts turned poetic in the afterglow. The darkness that allows me to rest and shields me from danger.

With every breath Owain took, the shadows slowly retreated into his skin. He pulled out and gave my forehead a lingering kiss. “I don’t want to be domineering, but…stay here,” he ordered.

He got out of the bed, offering a stunning view of his backside, muscles rippling as he walked.

I would definitely do that again.

He returned holding another warmed-up damp towel and proceeded to clean me with reverent strokes. Instead of walking the towel back to the washbasin, he burrowed back under the covers and conjured a whip of shadows to tidy after us.

I giggled as he lifted me up, repositioning my body until I settled onto the warm, steady expanse of his chest. “Much better,” he said.

We were both quiet for a long moment, letting exactly what had happened between us sink in. A tremor ran through my fingers as they traced the lines of his scars. I propped myself up to look at him.

A question had been weighing on my mind since the moment I told him that I loved him. As I watched the shadows drift across his skin, I finally let it out. “Did you know before the mate bond settled?”

Because there was nothing else that surge of magic, coupled with this strange awareness of him, could be. My parents said the knowing was one of the greatest joys of the bond. And my mother had said the man always knew first.

Owain’s careful gaze, braced for impact, revealed the answer before he spoke. “Yes.”