Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

He lifted his head, arching an eyebrow in surprise. “You have some place to be?”

“Yeah, actually.” I sighed. “I have a job back in Tucson. Besides, I’m filthy.”

Dorian was undeterred and returned to trying to get my shirt off. “I’ll help bathe you.”

I swatted his hand away but then pulled him over so that I could put my arms around him and hold him against me. I knew he wanted more than cuddling, but I didn’t have the energy. Considering his fastidious nature, I was surprised he consented to resting his head on my chest, seeing as how dirty and ragged the shirt was.

“No offense, but I’ll take human showers any day over some servant lugging water up to a tub.”

“You can’t leave without talking to Ranelle,” he pointed out. “And you can’t see her like this.”

I grimaced and ran my hand over his brilliant hair. “Damn it.” He was right. I was still bad at this queen thing, but I knew enough about gentry customs to know that if I really did want the Linden King’s help, I would need to look and sound good. So much to do. Never enough time. All so wearying.

Dorian lifted his head and looked back down at me. “Was it bad?”

He was referring to last night’s battle. “It’s always bad. I’m still not okay with people fighting and dying for me. Especially over one insult.” The living suffered from this war too. I often had refugees coming to me for food and shelter.

“Their kingdom’s at stake,” he said. “Their homes. And that was more than an insult. Letting it pass would make the Thorn Land look weak—like prey. It would make you open to invasion, which is the same as surrendering to Katrice. Your people don’t want that. They have to fight.”

“But why do yours fight?”

Dorian looked at me like that was a crazy question. “Because I tell them to.”

I left the conversation at that and called for a servant to fill the bathtub in the chamber adjacent to my bedroom. It was a tedious task I hated making them do, though Dorian would no doubt argue it was their duty to. The magic I’d inherited from my tyrant father gave me control over storm elements, so I could have summoned water straight to the tub, rather than making my servants haul it up one bucket at a time. The Thorn Land was so dry, however, that pulling that much water magically would both dry out the castle’s air even more and possibly kill surrounding vegetation.

The servants had their own entrance to the bath chamber, and as soon as we heard them hauling and pouring water, Dorian grinned and pulled me back to the bed. “See?” he said. “Now we have time.”

I stopped protesting. And as our clothes came off and I felt the heat of his lips, I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t averse to sex, not really. This war really did put our lives constantly at risk, and he had worried about me. Having me here, merging physically, seemed to reassure him that I truly was all right. And I took comfort in it too, being with this man I’d fallen in love with against all reason. I’d once feared and hated the gentry—and it had taken me a long time to trust Dorian.

Sex was surprisingly tame for us this time. Usually, we found ourselves caught up in bad, kinky sex, sex that was a game of power and control I both loved and felt dirty about. Now, I sat on top of him, wrapping my legs around his hips as I drew him inside me. A sigh of bliss escaped his lips, his eyes closing as I began to slowly move my body and ride him. A moment later, his eyes opened and held mine with an expression of such affection and lust that a chill ran through me.

It always amazed me that he found me so desirable. I’d seen his past lovers—sexy, voluptuous women with curves and cleavage reminiscent of classic Hollywood starlets. My body’s build was lean and athletic from all the activity I did, my breasts pretty nicely shaped—though hardly porn star quality. Yet, since we’d officially become a couple these last few months, he had never looked at another woman. It was me he watched, his gaze hungry even at the most unromantic times.

I increased my pace, tilting forward and rocking us so that more of my body rubbed against his, bringing me closer to orgasm. I came shortly thereafter, my lips parting without a sound as a sweet ecstasy wracked my body, and every nerve in my skin seemed to ignite. I leaned forward, kissing him, letting his tongue explore my mouth as his fingers stroked my nipples.

The door to the bath chamber suddenly opened, and I jerked my head up as a servant peered in. “Your Majesty? The bath is ready.” Her words were bland, and she disappeared as quickly as she’d come. My being naked on top of Dorian hadn’t seemed like any big deal to her—and probably, it wasn’t. The gentry had much looser sexual mores than humans, public displays being very common. It probably would have been weirder for her if she hadn’t found her monarchs immediately going at it upon my return.

This sexual ease wasn’t something I’d picked up, and Dorian knew it. “No, no,” he said, feeling me slow down in my shock. The hands cupping my breasts moved down to my hips. “Let’s finish this.”

Dragging my eyes from the door, I turned my attention back to him and found my arousal returning. He rolled me over, not holding anything back now that I’d come. He pushed his body into mine, thrusting as hard and fast as he could. Moments later, his body shuddered, his fingers digging in where he gripped my arms. I loved watching it happen, loved watching this smug, confident king lose his control between my thighs. When he finished, I gave him another long, lingering kiss and then slid over to lie beside him.

He exhaled in contentment, regarding me again with that mix of hunger and love. He wouldn’t say it, but I knew he always secretly hoped that somehow, some way, our lovemaking would result in me getting pregnant. I had explained to him a hundred times how birth control pills worked, but the gentry had difficulty with conception, making them obsessed with having children. Dorian claimed he wanted a child just for the sake of having one with me, but the prophecy about my firstborn son conquering humanity had always been alluring. Obviously, I wasn’t in favor of that idea—hence my emphasis on contraceptives. Dorian had ostensibly let go of that dream for my sake, but there were days I suspected he wouldn’t mind fathering such a conqueror. As it was, our alliance already made us dangerous. He loved me, I was certain, but he also craved power. Our united kingdoms put us in a good position to conquer others, if we chose.

It was difficult leaving him, but there was too much to be done. I retreated to the bath, washing both sex and battle off of me. Life and death. The tub was only big enough for one, but Dorian seemed perfectly happy watching me and lounging in the afterglow. He was less excited about my wardrobe choice. As queen, I had a closet filled with elaborate dresses, dresses he loved seeing me in. As a human shaman, I’d also made sure it was stocked with human clothes. He looked at my jeans and tank top with dismay.

“Ranelle would be more impressed with a dress,” he said. “Especially one that showed your lovely cleavage.”

I rolled my eyes. We were back in my bedroom, and I was loading myself up with weapons: charmed jewelry and an iron athame, along with a satchel containing a gun, a wand, and a silver athame. “You’d be more impressed with that. And anyway, it’d be a waste now.”

“Not true.” He got up from the bed, still naked, and gently pushed me against the wall, cautious of the athame’s sharp blade. “I’m ready again.”

I could see that he was, and honestly, I probably could have gone back to bed too. Whether that was from lust or a reluctance to fulfill my impending tasks, it was hard to say.