I was still knotted.
Still panting, sweating, and filled so deep with Daxos's c*m I could feel it sloshing when I shifted slightly.
And this smug war god? Still buried inside me like he planned to live there.
His thumb dragged over my lip as he stared at me, possessive and reverent and way too proud of himself.
“They're going to be impossible when we go back,” I mumbled.
He smirked. “They already are.”
“I should probably get up.”
“You're not going anywhere until I say so.”
“I'm still technically your queen.”
He leaned in. “You're mine first.”
And gods help me—I liked that too much.
Then the bond pulsed.
And again.
And again.
“Let us back in before we set something on fire.”
Azric.
“You've had her for HOURS. We're on edge. She's glowing like she ascended and you're muting us
