Page 99 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
I hadn’t even realized I had closed them.
Clay stared down at me with such total and utter devotion that there was no doubt at all of whether he was enjoying this. There was no doubt that what he was feeling went far beyond the sexual ecstasy we were both lost in. I knew the words before he gave life to them, and this time I didn’t stop him from saying them.
“I am in love with you, Theadora,” he whispered, pausing his movement only to wipe away the tear that slid down my cheek.
Words failed me.
Thoughts failed me.
But my feelings for him never did.
“And I love you.”
His hips shifted, penetrating me impossibly deeper, and I moaned, savoring the bite of pain in the new angle. Clay’s forehead pressed against mine as he thrust into me, each movement more frantic than the last. I raised my hips to meet his, hating every second he wasn’t fully inside me.
“Again,” he commanded through gritted teeth.
“I love you.”
“Again.”
Over and over. I said it until my words turned to screams. Until the pressure built so high that the world shattered around me in sparkling perfection that left my body shaking. Until the furniture itself rattled as magic exploded out of me. Until he groaned my name and stilled inside me, filling me.
And when everything was quiet, after he had slowly slipped out of me and pulled me against his chest, I said it again.
“I love you.”
His fingers traced their way through my hair. “Always princess, no matter what comes next.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
Itraced my forefinger around the dragon Marking Clay's hip. The beast stretched its neck high above his pelvic bone, its tail winding down his thigh - a permanent reminder of the God that gifted him his power.
“I used to wonder what this looked like,” I murmured, watching the subtle twitch of his body under my touch. I circled that spot again, just to the left of his pelvic bone, and his fingers tightened on my back.
With one hand propped under his head, he lifted his gaze to the Mark. “Does it meet your expectations?”
“Everything meets my expectations.”
He grinned and rested his head back once more. “I aim to please, Miss Moore.”
Clay gently guided my head to rest on his chest, his fingers weaving through my hair. Hours had passed in this quiet contentment, lying wrapped together beneath the sheets, lost in each other’s warmth.
But morning would come eventually.
“What happens now?” I whispered.
He sighed heavily. “I suppose we should talk to Camilla. I’ll summon Rankor and Kent in the morning. They should be here for that conversation.”
“Not Iris?”
The thought of explaining this to Iris - of admitting that I’d freed the woman responsible for Lorelai’s death - churned in my stomach. That conversation was unavoidable, though. Better to face her sooner than later.
“Not Iris.” Clay’s voice was stern, inviting no further argument.
I shifted up, meeting his gaze even as he tried to avoid mine. “We have to tell her.”
Clay reached up, brushing back my hair. “After we talk to Camilla, I’ll go to Iris and speak with her myself.”
