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I was too busy murmuring choppy, incoherent syllables to correct him. Maybe later. If I remembered…
For now, I made sure Tuck glimpsed himself the way I saw him: a muscled, battle-scarred knight, erasing all the heartbreak and loneliness his fair maiden had ever experienced. Erasing it for good, because he was making me his forever.
“Yes…” I whispered.
His feline essence mixed with my equine genes, bonding us for all eternity.
I cried out as he thrust one more time, anchoring himself deep. When he exploded inside me, I clamped on to him, then shuddered with my own release.
All I felt was heat. All I heard were our pounding hearts and heavy breaths. All I sensed was deep, never-ending satisfaction.
“Tuck…” I whispered.
He retracted his fangs, giving me one last aftershock of pleasure. Then he went limp, pressing me into the mattress.
“Marian…” he rasped.
Evidently, there was one thing that could subdue my brave lion: love, radiating with the intensity of the sun on a bright summer day.
Of course, it was only dawn on a midwinter’s morning. But not at that moment. Not for me.
We held each other for an eternity. Even after we separated, we gazed into each other’s eyes for an equally long time.
Bells clanged in the distance, and Tuck tensed, then started laughing. Harder and harder, until he was rolling in mirth.
“What?” I asked, chuckling just from watching him.
It took him several tries to get the words out. “I thought that was the call to prayer.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Nope. Something much better.”
He grinned, pulling me nice and snug against his chest. “Yes. Wedding bells.”
I nodded, kissing him. “Our wedding bells.”
We passed another minute in a happy daze. Then Tuck’s hands started wandering over my body again.
“But seeing as those are just pre-wedding bells, I think we have time for some more fun.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying the wedding won’t be fun?”
He grinned one of those sunburst smiles. “No, but there’s fun, and there’s fun. The kind of fun that doesn’t involve the king, your father, and hundreds of other witnesses.”
“Ugh.” I pushed the images away. “What a way to kill the mood.”
He slid his hands down my back, then over the curve of my rear while running his stubbly chin over my neck. “Well, let me rekindle it again, my love.”
* * *
“Stop fussing. You look fine,” I assured Tuck that afternoon.
In truth, he looked good enough to eat, and it was all I could do not to drag him into the nearest closet, strip, and screw him wildly.
He waggled his eyebrows, reading my mind. “Closet. Good idea.”
I laughed. “That will have to wait. We have to rejoin our guests.”
Our sensual morning was long past, and our wedding had gone beautifully. Even tough, no-nonsense Willa had hidden joyous tears. My father had cried too — openly, bless him — and even the king appeared to have something in his eye when Tuck and I had said I do.
