The Golden Dynasty(125)

I was registering the heat in his eyes when he murmured against my lips, “Your king wants your golden honey.”

A vague memory of the night before filtered into my brain and I didn’t hesitate before I parted them in invitation and immediately felt Lahn’s tongue sweep inside.

Nope. It wasn’t a dream I had last night. My husband could kiss.

My arms slid around his shoulders as he dropped back then twisted, my back hit bed and Lahn’s body hit mine; all the while we kissed, our tongues dancing. He shifted and I knew what that shift meant, my legs parted, his h*ps fell between and his hand went to the ties on one side of his hides.

Seconds later, his tongue plundering my mouth, his c**k slowly invaded me.

I moaned into his mouth.

Oh, this was good.

He started moving, slowly, his sweet strokes unhurried, his mouth never leaving mine.

No, this was good.

His lips finally moved to trail down my cheek to my ear as I lifted my knees and pressed my thighs to his sides to take him deeper and held on tight with my arms.

“My golden queen commands the heavens,” he whispered in my ear, I turned my head to ask what he was talking about but he turned his head too, his mouth came back to mine and my question evaporated as all thought moved to his mouth, his weight, his heat, his cock… him.

His eyes were open as his tongue slid back into my mouth and I felt my belly plummet, my limbs tense, my lungs burn as I saw it, I saw it, golden, shimmering, bright and brutal and deep… God, so deep in his eyes.

But I saw it.

My hand slid up into his hair to keep his head to mine so I wouldn’t lose it as he kissed me, made love to me and showed me his spirit.

I’d never seen anything like it and it… was… beautiful.

With nothing but kisses, light touches and slow, sweet, deep strokes, Lahn built the fire until I had to let his spirit go so I could close my eyes with my cl**ax, my moan drowned in his mouth.

Mere seconds later, not yet fully recovered from my own orgasm, my mouth received the gift of his groan.

Once he recovered, his lips swept my cheeks, my eyes then his face disappeared in my neck.

I held him tight and stared at the roof of the cham, not able to stop myself from feeling moved that he showed me his spirit, something so precious to him, something he kept safe, something he did not share and further not able to stop myself from being dazzled by the display.

Shit.

I pulled in a breath, turned my head and, mouth at his ear, I whispered, “You’re a natural at this kissing business.”

His head came up and his eyes came to mine, the shimmer gone but his gaze was warm.

“Natural?”

My hand slid to cup his jaw. “Have you ever kissed a woman, my king?” I asked my question softly in Korwahk.

His eyes held mine in a way it felt like he was trying to read me before he grunted his clearly guarded negative admission of, “Me.”

I was his first.

He’d given that to no one else. He’d given it only to me.

Shit. I liked that.

I smiled at him. “Well, you’re good at it,” I said softly in English. “A natural.” He stared at me so I lifted my head two inches, my lips a breath from his where I whispered, “Kay anhay tee.” I paused then finished with emphasis, “Chah.”

I liked it… a lot.