Page 96 of Foundling

Patting his cheek, Leita told him of Ravenna’s power and the vision she’d had for Leita. As she explained the previous letters between them, Attalus’s pout melted into a grin.

“Well, at least you’re writing about me.”

She snorted, another bout of laughter clutching her tight. It only grew worse when he pouted again, his tail whipping behind him.

“Right.” Plucking the letter from her hand, he set it on the low table before ducking to put his shoulder into her middle. With a hup, he threw her over his back. “Enough of a break. Time to give your attention to more important matters.”

Leita wriggled between his wings. “We’ll be late for dinner.”

“You’re the Queen, you can’t be late.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true. Eep!”

Attalus bent, casting her down onto the bed. Leita erupted in giggles as she bounced in the soft bedding and couldn’t stop even when her determined dragon prowled over her.

“You’re in a good mood,” he noticed.

“I am. I’m…happy.”

His nostrils flared, and she didn’t miss how his lips twitched, wanting to smile, but he held onto his pout resolutely.

“Why do you sulk?” she asked, tracing his lips. Each fingertip got a little nip.

“I want to be the one who makes you happy. Who makes you laugh.”

It wasn’t what she’d thought he’d say. And while his tone carried its usual haughty confidence, there was something else in it too, a vulnerability that made her ache so sweetly.

“Oh, azore.” Leita pulled him down to her, kissing the sulkiness from his lips. “You do. Believe me, you do. Charis noticed, and she says the people are noticing, too. They may not know why, but it’s you.”

His satisfied grin was almost insufferable, but Leita didn’t mind. She loved his confidence and good nature. They imbued her, buoyed her, lent her an assuredness until she’d built her own.

“I’m determined to make you the happiest fae who’s ever lived,” he declared, “and I’ll start now.”

Leita bit her lip, though her grin couldn’t quite be contained. She watched from where she lay as he made quick work of her silky skirts and bodice. The feel of his warm hands over the silk was delicious, but not half so good as when he ran them again over her bare skin.

He unknotted his kilt, but she stopped him before he could divest of any jewelry. “That stays,” she insisted.

Attalus rumbled lustily. “Do you like the sight of your consort dripping in riches, agae?”

“They suit you.”

A rich chuckle hummed in his throat and between Leita’s legs. She squeezed her thighs together, needing the pressure and friction.

His grin kicked wider. “One day soon, you’ll lay here for me in all your jewels and silver. I want to see you rival the moon and glow just as bright.”

Her throat went dry at the thought of all that cool metal against her skin. She got a taste of it when Attalus leaned over her and one of the large ruby pendants dangling from his neck dragged up her sternum. It was warm from his skin, and Leita found herself jealous of a jewel, that it got to be with him all day, pressed close to his hearts.

Leita spread her legs and Attalus settled over her, nestling into the cradle of her body. His warmth and weight were more comforting than any blanket, covering her in a way that made her never want to leave. He took up her senses, filling her vision, dominating her scents, and overwhelming her with touches everywhere.

He began with kisses—he seemed fond of them. Leita was, too.

That forked tongue teased at her lips before she opened to him, tangling her tongue with his. He sucked at her bottom lip, teasing and nipping, building her higher as his hands began to move.

One pushed her knee wider, making room for him at the apex of her thighs. Without err, he found her slick flesh, fingers gliding down over her mons to her welcoming cunt. He balanced on his other elbow, leaving his hand to cup her head, claws raking through her hair.

He held her like that for a long while, at his mercy as his fingers made their own magic. He strummed her clitoris expertly, finding just the right touches and pace. Those golden eyes fixed on her, pupils slitted as his nostrils flared with her every gasp and groan.

It wasn’t long before she wept for him, cunt gushing to entice him further. But while his fingers strayed to tease her once or twice, he never pushed inside, instead lavishing her clitoris with more circles and pinches.