Bride of the Traitor (The Prophecy of Sisters #1) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,93

that I will never forget.”

Turning around in his arms, I lift my own to wrap around the back of his neck. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“My men were prepared. More so than I thought. We leave at first light.”

My entire body trembles, but this time for a different reason. I open my mouth to say something, to beg him to stay. My words die because he slants his head to the side, and touches his lips to mine, filling my mouth with his tongue.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELIAS

Wrapping my fist around her hair, I tug her head back. Sybilla lets out a long exhausted moan as I sink inside of her body, again. Her body and mine are slick with sweat, my balls ache, her queynte no doubt does as well. We’ve been at this for hours, only breaking between to regain our strength.

I’m unsure of when I’ll have her again, how long I’ll be in Llyne fighting, so I take my fill from my wife, hopefully planting my heir inside of her as I do. One of my hands is wrapped around her hip, holding her up while the other holds up her head by gripping her hair.

Pumping into her body, I lean over and touch my mouth to her forehead. “You are a sight to see, Sybilla,” I rasp.

“I can’t come again,” she whimpers.

I grunt, slamming inside of her a bit harder, causing her body to shift forward. “You can. You will, because I demand it,” I snap.

She tries to shake her head, her eyes wide and her lips parted. “It’s too much. Too many times,” she whispers sounding weak.

Pulling out of her, I turn her over, cradling her in my arms before I crawl on my knees toward the headboard. Her head lolls to the side as I place her back against the wooden headboard of the bed.

Sliding my hands down the insides of her thighs, I spread her wide. “Feet flat on the bed, sweeting,” I gently demand.

She does as I ask, her lids heavy as she watches me, her breathing coming out in short pants. Crawling between her spread thighs, I guide my cock inside of her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck before I jerk her closer to me.

Dipping my chin, I take her bottom lip between my teeth and gently tug on her flesh. “Elias,” she whimpers as I begin to move inside of her.

“Come again, My Queen. I need you,” I whisper against her mouth.

“I can’t.”

Grinning, I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips. “One hand on the headboard, the other between your legs,” I murmur.

She shakes her head, but doesn’t protest. She lifts one of her hands, turning it to grip the rail of the headboard. The other hand she slips between her sweat-soaked breasts and hisses as soon as she makes contact with her swollen nub.

“Now, make yourself sing for me, Sybilla,” I groan.

Keeping my mouth on hers, I pound into my queen. I take from her, more than I should. Burying my face against her neck, I taste her sweetness while I continue to take, my guilt ebbing as I search for my release.

I feel her flutter around me and she gasps before she lets out a wail that if I didn’t know she was reaching her peak, I would think that she was being hurt. I don’t stop, my own climax hard on the heels of hers.

“Who has just made you come, Sybilla?” I grind out.

“My King,” she says through trembling lips.

One. Two. Three. Four strokes and I bury myself deep inside of her with a roar of my own against her neck. I stay with my chest pressed against hers, one hand at the back of her head, the other holding one of her thighs open as I attempt to catch my breath.

“Elias,” she breathes.

“My Queen,” I mutter, lifting my head from her neck as I look into her golden gaze.

She lifts one of her hands and as she so often does, she extends her finger and traces my scar down my eye. I don’t mind because she’s never looked at that scar with pity. She’s admired it with curiosity, but never pity. Now she looks upon it with longing.

“Sybilla?”

She presses her lips together before she releases them. “Must you join them?” she asks.

Frowning, I stay buried inside of her, but search her eyes for an answer as to why she’s asking this of me. She sighs, her finger tracing my scar a second time.

“I have a

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