Page 81 of The King’s Commander

Her hands rest on my shoulders.

“I am no delicate vase, Vanni. I will not break if you drop me.”

Positioning myself with my hand, I vow to her, “I will never drop you.”

Though I’ve never taken a woman’s virginity before, I know it will cause her pain. Entering slowly, I reach the barrier and wait.

Throbbing. My hands shaking as they hold my body over her.

It feels as if this is my first time making love to a woman, though it’s hardly that.

“Aedre?”

I remember the first time she gave me her name. Aedre, daughter of Dal Lorenson, descendant of Athea.

And know her answer even before she nods. We will be joined this day.

When she nods slightly, giving me permission, I don’t hesitate, wanting the pain to go quickly for her.

She does cry out then, and I’m sorry for it. I still myself, closing my eyes and calming my racing heart . . . or trying to.

Finally, I open them again, hoping her pain has eased.

Aedre looks down between us, curious.

“Does it hurt?”

She blinks, then shakes her head. Smiles.

I start moving then, my hand gliding up to her breast. I would tell Aedre she has captured my heart, but she must know I’d not be inside her if she hadn’t. The strain of holding back, of resisting the urge to thrust, makes my arms shake.

Rewarded with a soft whimper, I grow bolder. Move faster. Circle my hips, intent on just one thing.

Giving Aedre more pleasure than she’s ever received in her lifetime. I know a part of her has been left vulnerable these past days, her world changing irrevocably. For these brief moments, I want to take away her pain and replace it with the very opposite.

When her hips press upward, I know she’s fully recovered. With the first thrust, her eyes widen. With the second, her nails press into the flesh of my arms.

With the third and fourth, she screams out my name, and I welcome it.

“Vanni,” she says, over and over again.

Rubbing her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I angle my body slightly and move again.

“Aedre,” I murmur in response, knowing exactly how she feels. I could let go at any moment as she climbs toward that final rush of pleasure.

And then she looks into my eyes.

All of it is there.

Her inital resistance toward me.

The teasing Garra who agreed to “treat” me.

The gentle healer, sorrowful granddaughter, fierce fighter.

Looking down at her, I could no sooner hold back than if she’d continued to take me in her mouth. Thankfully, her face transforms to pure joy as I tumble into my release. I collapse on top of her, holding myself up just enough not to crush her. When her arms wrap around me, I don’t even consider moving.

The ship that so distracted everyone will have been abandoned. The villagers will return, the inn filling up below us, making it more difficult to sneak her out. But I just don’t care.