Page 160 of Savage Throne
“Then, tell me what’s going on.”
“I won’t let him ruinthismoment. Not right now. Let me. . .enjoy the fact that you said yes. . .that one day. . .very fucking soon. . .you will be walking down an aisle in a beautiful gown and the world will know that you are my wife.”
Moni’s lips parted, but before she could speak, I couldn’t wait. I pulled her into my arms, clutching her like she was the only thing anchoring me to this world, the only light against the storm raging inside.
She didn’t hesitate.
She wrapped herself around me, her arms sliding over my shoulders, her warmth pressing against the cold fury still simmering in my chest.
Her touch was a balm that slowly healed my darkening soul.
Her lips found mine. Soft and sweet, they carried the kind of gentleness I didn’t deserve but couldn’t resist.
That first brush of her mouth against mine unraveled me completely.
Groaning, I let myself sink into her, surrendering to the kiss like a man starved, desperate for salvation.
Her kiss wasn’t just a touch—it was a lifeline. It wrapped around my heart and chased away the murderous thoughts in my head.
God, she’s so perfect.
Her tongue moved with mine, each soft, intoxicating press tethering me to the here and now.
More fireflies swirled and played in the air around us.
She threaded her fingers through my hair and molded her body perfectly against mine.
I tightened my hold on her pulling her closer, needing to feel every part of her against me.
My cock grew in my pants.
My lips moved over hers with a fervor that bordered on desperation, as if I could pour everything I couldn’t say into the kiss.
You’re mine. Only mine. Forever mine.
I kissed her like the world could end in that moment and I would die happy as long as she was in my arms. Her warmth melted the ice in my veins yet the fire of my possessiveness still smoldered, refusing to die.
It terrified me, the depth of my need for her, but her touch softened the edges of that fear.
Oh God.
The kiss deepened, pulling me under, drowning every thought except her—her warmth, her softness, the way her lips molded perfectly to mine.
Nothing else mattered.
Not my father.
Not the ring.
Not the feast.
Not the battle.
It was just her.
Her fingers tightened in my hair and a soft moan escaped her lips.
A jolt of heat ripped through my body, shattering what little control I had left.
