“Perfect. So perfect.”

“So you want to come in my mouth, then?” I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock. “Or did you want to come on my face? Or my tits? You might enjoy that⁠—”

I can’t finish my statement because in the next moment, my mouth is full of his hot, silky release. I hum with approval, pleased to make him come so quickly. When his wing feels better, I can take my time with him. For now, it’s a quick tease with the promise of more. Making little soothing noises in my throat, I lick him clean, very aware that his gaze is locked on me as I do so.

Unable to resist, I give him one last kittenish lick before asking, “How are you feeling, love? I hated to wake you from your sleep but I thought we should check on your wing.” My lips curl into a teasing smile. “I thought this might be the best way to do so.”

“You…” Nemeth makes a strangled sound in his throat. He looks stunned.

I have to admit, I love seeing that expression on his face. “Me,” I agree, and press a kiss to the tapered head of his cock. “I said I’d suck your cock if you let me stitch you up, and really, we’re both coming out as winners in this bargain.” I lick him again, and I could swear his cock stirs, as if trying to harden in my grasp.

It makes me smile, and I glance up at Nemeth. He still looks dazed, but I can tell the worry is returning to his expression, the concern.

“Before you say that I shouldn’t have done this,” I quickly add, “I wanted to. And besides, it’s perfectly fine. I’m going to be your mate.” I sit up beside him on the bed. “So now I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You…what?” Those fascinating eyes blink at me.

“I said I’m going to be your mate. I’m not going to let worries over the future destroy my happiness for the next six years. Whatever happens outside, I’ll worry about that later. For now, I want to be happy, and I want to be with you.” I smile, but his dazed response isn’t giving me much to work with. Is he happy? Upset?

He just keeps staring at me as if I’ve grown another head.

I realize I’ve just sucked the strength right out of him, but a girl needs something to work with. “Have you changed your mind?”

Faster than I can blink, he grabs me and hauls me over him. “Never.” His gaze searches my face. “You mean it?”

I nod, feeling a little shy. I’ve never been a girl for commitment, but for him, I want to try. “I do.”

“Is this because I am wounded?”

“While that was terrifying, no, that’s not it.” It’s because my sister wants me to murder you and I realized I’m in love with you and my life would be empty without you. That’s why. But I can’t say any of that aloud. “You saved me at no thought to yourself earlier, and it made me realize how much I love you. I don’t want to spend the next six years depriving myself.” I lean over and kiss him. “I’ll be your mate if the offer still stands.”

He groans, wrapping his arms around me and hauling me down against his chest in a hug. Of course, with the angle of our bodies, it means that my breasts are in his face, and instead of pointing this out with embarrassment, Nemeth nuzzles them. He buries his face in my cleavage, and I gasp at the exciting prickle of awareness that courses through me. “Of course the offer stands. Just…say it again.”

“I’ll be your mate.”

One of those big fangs scrapes against the swell of my breast. “No, Candra. The other part.”

Oh. “The part where I said I love you?”

He gazes up at me. “Do you mean it?”

I nod, smiling shyly down at him. “I’m not all that familiar with love, so you might have to be patient with me.” Back at court, love is something that can be wielded against you by a lover or a gossip…or by my sister, who keeps trying to get me to kill Nemeth. I push thoughts of her away and cup Nemeth’s big, handsome face in my hands. “But I love you and I’m tired of saying no. I’m a girl that much prefers a good ‘yes.’” I wriggle my backside against him. “So…wanna have sex after I check out your wing?”

Nemeth runs his nose along the swell of my breast, sending skitters of pleasure through me. “Not until after we have the ceremony.”

“There’s a ceremony?” I pout.

“A Fellian ceremony,” he agrees. “On the night of the new moon.” He presses a kiss to the slope of my breast, and I’d give anything for him to tug my bodice down and take my nipple into his mouth in this moment. “Since we have no idea if the moon is rising, however, I’m inclined to say tomorrow is a good day.”

“Tomorrow,” I agree, though I’m throbbing with awareness between my thighs and I want this to be today. But I can wait for tomorrow. “Tomorrow, I’m yours.”

“All mine,” he agrees, and I love the covetous look on his face.

Chapter

Forty-Five

His wing is healing well, and so I get out my best dress and dampen the skirts to get some of the wrinkles out, pressing it under Nemeth’s heavier books to iron it. It’s still pitifully wrinkled, but there’s no instructions in my book on how to wash clothes without that happening. I fuss with my skirt for a bit, despairing over a wrinkle as big as a canyon, right down the front where my overdress artfully parts to show my pretty, pale-blue chemise underneath. I need something heavier to smooth the wrinkles out. There’s a huge book of war poetry that Nemeth often reads and it might do the trick. Glancing around our quarters, I look for the volume…

…and find it in Nemeth’s hands.

He sits by the fire, reading, his wounded wing slathered in ointment, the stitches an unpleasant-looking line across his beautiful wing. More than that, though, he straddles his favorite stool, his big body hunched over his book, one big hand skimming down a page, and I’m suddenly jealous of poetry.

I know we agreed to wait until tomorrow, but there’s nothing that says I can’t distract him right now.

“Nemeth,” I call sweetly, leaving my dress and stepping across the room toward him. “Can I trouble you for a moment?”

The Fellian straightens, sliding a ribbon between the pages and then closing his book. His eyes follow me as I stroll in his direction. “What is it?”

“I need to borrow your book.” I bend over and pluck the tome from his hands.

“You’re going to read it?”

I chuckle. “Don’t be silly. It needs to flatten the wrinkles out of my skirt.”

“Gods forbid that I catch you reading one of my books,” he teases as I move back to my dress and set the heavy book atop the offending wrinkle. “You…do know that books are for reading, yes?”

“So many big words,” I mock-pout, turning back to him. “You know it’s too much for me to take in. And you can just read something else while I keep your book busy.”

“Ah, but perhaps I was reading that one.” He tilts his head at me, a smile curving his hard mouth as I saunter toward him. “What are you up to?”

“I’m bored and lonely,” I say, sliding my arms around his neck. “And tomorrow seems very far away.”

His hands settle on my waist. “I know. But it is important to me that we honor my people’s customs.” His eyes are bright as he gazes at me. With him seated and me standing in front of him, we’re almost the same height. It just reminds me how very massive he is in comparison to my smaller form, and I find it incredibly appealing. “Surely one more day will not be so terrible. And then we will marry in the custom of the Fellian people.”

I should protest that we need to be married in the Liosian way as well, but I’m not feeling particularly inclined to claim my people, especially after my sister’s most recent (and most demanding) letter. “Very well. Tomorrow you will claim me as your bride. And tonight?”

“Tonight I will anticipate tomorrow,” he tells me, grinning.