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Garden of Serpents (The Demon Queen Trials #3)(77)

Author:C.N. Crawford

The temperature in the forest had climbed so high that some of the leaves had begun to burn like candle flames—but that was a problem for later.

With his enormous body, he pinned me to the moss. Slowly, he started to move in and out of me, taking me, stoking my arousal. Not Rowan anymore…just a succubus, a creature of the wild.

Ecstasy spiraled through me, primal and overwhelming.

He thrust in again, slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re mine, Rowan,” he breathed. “I love you.”

I felt I should return the sentiment, but a plea for more was all I could manage as his powerful strokes had me coiling with sexual pleasure.

He covered my mouth with his, moving faster in me. Making the ground shake beneath us and the air glow with the gold of the sun. The world was on fire, and we were creatures of the light.

I shuddered as my orgasm tore through me. My cries must have reached the forest’s canopy, the city across the river—a scream only a banshee could appreciate.

Orion growled as my clenching muscles gripped him.

Just when I thought it was over, everything started again, the dip only the marker to begin another climb. I rocked my hips at a blinding speed, and before I knew it, my mind was fracturing again, my body shuddering.

With Orion’s release, his mouth opened wide enough that I could see golden flames licking at the back of his throat from deep within his core.

In that moment, I had no words anymore, only the heat and the light, and the perfect ecstasy of a wild beast set free.

*

I curled up into his arms, listening to him breathe, as rain slid down our naked bodies. Once my mind had cleared again from the mist of arousal, I’d managed to remember the words for the storm spell and doused the flames.

Orion stroked his hand down my damp hair and nestled me further into him. Goosebumps had risen on my skin in the cool air.

“Rowan,” he said softly, “I ripped your dress. Again.”

“Either you’re going to need to take up sewing, or I need to start wearing things that are much easier to take off around you.”

He kissed the top of my head. “You could just stay naked. Around me,” he clarified. “Not around anyone else. I don’t need Kas and Legion getting an eyeful.”

“I’m genuinely not at risk of becoming a nudist.”

“Rowan.” He propped up on his elbow. The shockingly pale blue of his eyes gleamed in the darkness. “When are we getting married?”

I stared at him. “Is this…a proposal?”

He traced a fingertip over my collarbone. “A proposal?”

I fought the urge to smile. After seeing Orion uncharacteristically vulnerable so many times recently, I found myself relieved that his wild confidence had returned. Also, he really had no idea whatsoever how normal social conventions worked.

“Usually, it’s a question,” I said. “You ask someone if they want to marry you before assuming. And there’s kneeling and a ring.”

“Ah.” He nodded slowly. “Shall I get a ring?”

“Yes.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “Orion, do you think we have everything we need now? We have the grimoire and the Lilu.”

We’d both rule the City of Thorns. But what I was really asking was, You’re not hell-bent on revenge anymore, right?

His fingers stilled on my collarbone, and he took a breath before answering.

My nerves fluttered with dread at his silence until at last, he said, “Yes. We have everything.”

I lay flat on my back on the damp earth, staring up at the star-flecked sky through the boughs. I was perfectly satiated and happy, and his hand trailed down my body, following the curve of my waist, my hips.

But as I stared up at the heavens, a vision bloomed in my mind:

Stone walls, cracked to expose a bit of the stars. Then a shadow swinging over the stone—the bloodied, swaying feet of a hanged body. Wood creaking above, and pain piercing my heart to the core.

Why did I have a nagging feeling that I was still missing a piece of the puzzle, that even Orion didn’t yet fully understand himself?

39

ROWAN

The morning after the festival, I woke alone in Orion’s bed. I stretched like a cat until I had the energy to get dressed and search for coffee.

As I was pulling on a pair of jeans, my gaze caught on a handwritten note left on top of the bed: Meet me by the clocktower, love.

I cocked my head, staring at it.

What did my incubus king have in store for me today?

I smiled to myself. The ring. He’d probably found a ring.

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