Chapter Text
In the hazy space between waking and sleep, an unwelcome chill runs through me. I reach across the bed for my personal body heater-slash-husband, and find him sleeping on his stomach, dozing lightly. Nevertheless, I snuggle up to him, eager to leech his warmth. When I do, he turns onto his side and pulls me against his chest. I hitch my leg over his, and he slots his thigh between mine.
“I don’t know how you get so cold every morning,” he murmurs as he tugs me closer.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“I love it, don’t apologize. I’ll take any excuse to hold you closer.” He punctuates his point with a kiss in my hair. I smile against him, trying to hold onto this sleepy state where we’re tangled up together before the day truly begins. Xaden presses his thigh deeper between my legs, and the pressure against my center is so nice. Not exactly what I expected this morning, but I’ll never complain about getting tangled up with Xaden. My mouth falls open on a soft moan, and he just presses into me harder. The simple fact of acknowledging the heat between us seems to push it to a burn.
“Xaden,” I sigh as all my nerves light up with his attention. He ducks against my neck and kisses the exposed skin. When he scrapes his teeth along the length of my neck I can’t help the high, breathy moan that comes out of my mouth. I don’t want to stop it. I want him to know how much I love this, how much I need this. I feel him smiling against my neck between open-mouthed kisses. Gods, I love how he plays with me like this.
“So fucking pretty,” he says against me just before his hand finds my hip and pulls me closer. The pressure, the closeness, sets off something feral in me. I grind against his leg again, and he lets out another low groan. “Yeah, love, take what you need.”
As much as I want him inside me, his weight on top of me, I love this slow, sleepy moment. Where I’m getting a little bit of what I need, where I’m still on the edge of waking up. Everything feels warm and languid, like laying back in the bath. My eyes flutter closed at his touch, at every point of contact between us. Xaden grips my ass with one hand and my hip with the other. Then, he rolls onto his back, pulling me off the bed and on top of him.
For long moments that fall outside of time, I keep grinding against him, trying to get closer and closer still even though we’re still in our sleep clothes. He keeps his hands on my hips, hot against my skin, following the movement. Never restricting me, just staying close. Then, I feel like flint struck against stone when I shift just right, and sparks erupt low in my core.
“Fuck, yes, that’s right,” he sighs when I move a bit higher up his thigh, closer to what I’m craving.
“Need you,” I whimper.
“I know, I’m all yours,” he murmurs, voiced awed. “So fucking good.” His voice is still rough and heavy with sleep. It lights me up in the most delicious way. I’m all sweet whines and moans when he pushes himself against me harder, and I slide down his thigh, toward his hard cock. He’s so warm and perfect against me, even through our clothes. I can feel how I’m soaking through my underwear, so desperate and needy.
“Xaden, please,” I pant out but I don’t know what I’m asking for, except that I can’t bear the thought of him stopping, of him doing anything but holding me against his body and grinding into me.
“Oh, love,” he says into the bond while he groans aloud. I need more, but this heat, this tension is so damn good. I never want it to end. “You’re gonna fuck yourself against me until you come? Fuck, I love you.” I feel his hunger, his need for me, and I press down harder. The friction, the taut line of wanting between us is so perfect, I can’t even think through the haze of sleepiness and pleasure. So when Xaden’s hand tugs gently at the band of my underwear, I’m nodding desperately. He slides his hand against me, two fingers through my slick core.
“You’re so perfect,” he says with the reverence of a prayer as he finds the right angle, the right pressure that has me keening for him. I’m grinding against his hand, seeking more, more, more. As if he hasn’t already given me a beautiful life, and everything I need.
He shifts his fingers against me, and every nerve wakes up, eager to respond to his touch. I’m overcome with that kind of restlessness that only settles with his weight on top of me.
“Need you, need your cock,” I whimper into the bond. “Need to feel you.” Just then, he slides his fingers into me and curls them until I can’t see through how good it feels. “Xaden!” I cry out for him.
“How do you want me, love?” He asks sweetly into my mind. Under that sweetness is something with sharp teeth, and I want to be eaten whole. “You want to ride me, take everything you need? You want me to fuck you into the bed? Just need to tell me.” His voice is light and mischievous despite the heavy breathing and groans coming out of his mouth.
I don’t have words to express what I need, I’m so lost in the haze he’s conjured around us. I tug him into my mind and show him. He swallows another groan and rubs his thumb over my clit.
“Xaden,” I beg. When my eyes find his, they’re dark and hungry in the best way. Something low in my gut recognizes it, reaches out to meet it. He slows his movements, easing up on me until he pulls away. I whine at the absence, at the cool air where he was.
I scratch my fingers down his chest, his stomach before I climb off him. He doesn’t let me go far, keeping a hand on me as he repositions himself. I tug my underwear off, but leave on the old shirt of his that I’m wearing. It makes him extra possessive, and that’s what I’m craving today. I turn over onto my stomach, and he’s right there, putting me where he wants me, where I need to be. He withdraws his hand from my skin and I groan pathetically. Within a few heartbeats, he’s over me, leaning over my back, his cock so fucking close to where I need him. When the head brushes against my clit, we both groan, hunger and desperation clawing at my skin.
I’m so beyond words, aloud or in our bond, I just tug him close so he can feel my need, feel how he lights me up and how I want him to burn me down to embers. In turn, he shows me how he wants me, shadows of hot need, of possessiveness and craving at every turn. When we’re this close, there’s no room for words, let alone everything we carry outside our room. Just me and Xaden.
He guides himself into me, moving with the kind of deliberation and tenderness I love so much. I sigh with relief when he’s inside me, right where he belongs. He’s pushing forward, and I spread my legs wider for him, needing him as close as possible.
He sets a sweet, intentional pace that has my mind reeling. It’s all I can do to keep my arms under me, holding me up while he drives me into the bed. My mouth falls open on moans I don’t want to keep in, moans I need him to hear. “There you go. Love you.” His voice is low and lovely in my mind, and all my senses are full of him. His hips smack against my ass with each thrust, the slap of skin lewd and perfect to my ears.
I cry aloud and into his mind, no words, just whatever burning animal he’s awoken in me. It only encourages him, he pushes himself deeper and harder into me. How am I still craving more, when he’s given me everything? I need him to use me, to draw every bit of pleasure he can from me, I need to give him everything.
He shifts on his knees behind me, causing me to fall from where my arms were propping me up. The change of angle has me keening desperately. He grips my hip, keeping me in place where he wants me.
“Yeah, love, fuck,” He swears, voice breathless in my mind.
“Xaden!” I cry out when he shifts just right and hits that sweet spot inside me over and over and over. This is exactly what I needed. I can’t even form a sentence, a word. All that goes through my mind is Xaden: his name, his weight on top of me, his skin against mine, his shadows around us, his cock inside me.
A wisp of shadow curls against my inner thigh, a cool, velvety pressure, sharp like his teeth when he scrapes them over the skin there. That wisp wanders its way to my clit, where it draws tight, languid circles. I’m stuttering and gasping, I could live in this moment, in this haze of love and pleasure. I arch my ass a little into him, drawing a low moan from him.
“Love,” he gasps into the bond, and moves that shadow against me with a little more pressure, a little faster. I’m on a collision course with him, and I can only lean into it. Can only give myself over to him entirely. Give him everything he needs, everything he deserves. The wisp of shadow grows bigger, steadier, and plays with my clit with familiar touch in a brand new way. “Need to feel you.” He groans into the bond. I bow my head and whimper into the bed, so overwhelmed by everything. Just as I’m muffling my whines, he pulls back his shadow between my legs, still there, but not as rough and fast as I need. I raise my head to protest, to cry out, but before I can make a noise, Xaden’s hand is there, gripping my jaw.
The pressure, the command in his movement is so fucking good. His hand spans from around my neck to my chin across my jaw, and I keen with how fucking alive his touch makes me feel.
“Xaden, please,” I beg. I know he’ll take care of me, that he’ll have me seeing stars, but I’m at his mercy right now, and he has complete control of my pleasure, of my body. His grip on my face tightens a bit as he finds a maddening, deliberate pace. The pressure on my neck makes my head spin, makes me feel–fuck.
“Fuck, yes, Xaden.” Something bolder than I am from the back of my mind purrs under the restriction of his hand. I’m wide open to him, so it’s easy for him to see how he’s found a craving in me I didn’t know I had. He seems to falter for a moment, a stuttering slam of his hips into mine. Before I can take another breath, his hand slides down a few inches from my jaw to my neck and presses into the skin, the muscle. I gasp, my grip of the sheets under me tightening. The bond is wide open between the two of us, and I let all my pleasure, my thrill, my love pour into him.
“So fucking perfect, yes love,” he responds, just before commanding that velvet shadow to circle my clit in that way he knows I love: steady and rough and pushing me to the edge. Then I feel it: he takes us to a frantic, delicious pace, bringing us closer to the edge. I want to fly off it with him, feel him fuck me through both of our orgasms.
I’m vaguely aware of my breathy vocalizations, of the way my hips are rolling along with his movements, but all I care about is how close we are, how sweet all his love and attention is, the perfect pressure of his broad hand on my neck.
“Xaden,” I beg, as if he could give me any more. But he does, he lets go of any semblance of measured movements and control, letting me have everything.
When I come, it’s so electric and hot and perfect, and it lasts. I’m distantly aware of the crack of lightning beyond our windows, but all I care about is the way he’s turned me completely molten, how I’m all his. Xaden follows as I move through the aftershocks, waves of pleasure cascading through my body, in my blood, hot and thick and everywhere. His grip on my neck tightens as he comes with a strangled groan. My vision goes blurry and dark around the edges and I moan unabashedly along with him. When he releases his grip, I fall forward, totally boneless, every nerve in my body loose with pleasure and the afterglow, still preening under all his attention and care.
But Xaden’s right there, rubbing gentle circles into my neck where he held me so tight, murmuring something low and lovely I can’t make out. My mind comes back to me slowly, like gentle waves lapping at the shore at low tide.
I mumble something affirmative, but I couldn’t say what words come out of my mouth. Even so, it makes Xaden laugh, and he tugs me against his chest, shifting so I can lie with my chest against his, my head resting on his neck. He rubs circles on my back, saying something about…something? How am I supposed to tell him that he’s fucked my ability to comprehend language out of me? I can figure it out later. For now, I can just let him hold me, listen to the rumble of laughter in his chest, feel his warmth and love.
“Love, we have to get up,” he slides into my mind. Did I fall back asleep? Well. I let out an exasperated sigh and snuggle closer to him.
“No, thank you,” I manage to respond. Even fucked out of my sense, I’m still polite.
“I’d love to spend the whole day inside you, taking you apart and putting you back together.”
“Then let’s do that.”
“But we have a wedding update in an hour. And we should eat.”
“I can think of better things to do with my mouth.”
“You are making it very difficult to be responsible.”
“Good.”
“Love.” His voice is amused and exasperated at once, and I relent, peeling myself off him. As much as I love being curled up with him in the morning, I’m also looking forward to more wedding planning. The bedroom has warmed with the morning sun streaming in through the windows. I go about the routine of getting ready for the day: brushing my hair out and braiding it up, selecting my outfit. Xaden goes to take a quick shower, but when I offer to join him he gives me a look that tells me he sees what I’m playing at. Worth a shot.
In half an hour, we’re both showered, dressed, papers in hand for the day, and on our way to the kitchens. The house has been awake for a few hours by the time we enter the main hall, and I greet the staff as they move from one task to the next, bustling about. The whole way, Xaden holds my hand in his, our fingers laced together. When we get to the kitchen, he holds open the door for me before following after. Garrick gives a little mock bow when I walk in, and I roll my eyes.
“Vi!” He greets me. “Also Xaden.”
“Yeah, him too.” Xaden replies flatly as his hand finds my lower back. I grab two plates and lead us to the breakfast spread, picking out a couple things: a sweet roll, some berries, a couple pieces of bacon. Xaden only withdraws his hand from my back when he’s right in front of the food to pick out his own breakfast.
When I take a seat at the table, he sets down his plate but goes back to get us a kettle of tea and two mugs. When he returns to the dining nook, he pours us each a cup of tea, and places one in front of me. It makes my stomach do this weird flip while my heart settles on the sweetness in the gesture, the love there.
“Can I have some?” Garrick asks brightly.
“You can get your own tea.” Xaden says, tired of this interaction before it began.
“Gods, I have to defend your honor, I have to plan your stag party, and I have to get my own tea?”
“We’re not doing a stag party.” Xaden replies flatly.
“Says who?”
“Says me. The stag.” Xaden levels a glare at him, but it’s not serious.
“Booooo.” Garrick jeers at Xaden, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as I duck into my mug.
“Now you just have to defend my honor and get your own tea. Much more manageable to-do list.”
“Violet, do you want a stag party?” Garrick turns to me.
“You know, I’d never considered it. But I think I have quite a lot going on the week leading up to the ceremony. Don’t think I can squeeze it in.” I say before tearing off a piece of the honey roll and taking a bite.
“I think between Sloane and I, we could make something work.”
“How about you two have a stag party, and I will enjoy some quiet quality time with Xaden.”
“You are no fun.”
“I think you’re fun. You were plenty of fun earlier this morning.” Xaden says into my mind. I feel my cheeks redden, and nudge him with my foot under the table. His shadows take hold, twining up my calf like ivy come to life. “But I really enjoy our loud quality time.”
“Xaden,” I shoot back, half-warning, half-wanting.
“Hmm, I love how you make my name sound.” I can’t see myself, but I feel as red as a tomato. Will flirting with Xaden ever stop making me feel completely ridiculous in the best way? I hope not.
“Please stop whatever is happening here.” Garrick gestures between Xaden and I.
“What are you talking about?” Xaden asks casually as a shadow traces the skin on the inside of my thigh through my pants. I work very hard to not react to the touch, to the teasing.
“So reactive,” Xaden all but purrs. “I love it.” I take a small, slow sip of tea so I don’t choke on it.
“You’re the one who insisted we get out of bed.” I shoot back, but there’s no bite in it.
“You’re being paranoid.” I tell Garrick, and he rolls his eyes, making a show of being annoyed. I take another bite of my roll, refusing to entertain him. Sometimes he’s worse than Ridoc.
The three of us finish breakfast, Garrick adding commentary and generally riling Xaden up just to laugh at him. The whole time, I have my foot nuzzled against Xaden’s, rubbing his ankle in a steady rhythm. His shadows are a constant presence under the table, not teasing any longer, just–there.
When we’ve finished, Xaden takes our plates over to the sink to rinse off, then refills our mugs. Xaden holds open the door for me on the way out, letting me lead the way over to the meeting room that has become the wedding-planning mission base. Sloane has carefully organized stacks of papers, various notebooks and ledgers to organize who is doing what when and how and why. It’s an enormous relief to have her at my side handling the bulk of it, especially considering I’m still learning so much about Tyrrish culture every day.
“Good morning,” Sloane greets us when the three of us walk in, even though she’s absorbed in cross-referencing a notebook and a ledger.
“Good morning, Sloane.” Xaden says as he pulls out a chair for me. I brush a hand over his chest in thanks as I take a seat.
“Garrick, did you get the updates from the vendors when you went into town?”
“Right here,” he offers Sloane a folder full of papers. They confer over the paperwork for a couple minutes: Sloane marking updates and passing pages over to Garrick. Xaden sits in the chair next to me, nudging my foot with his.
“Don’t start with me,” I warn him.
“What am I starting, love?” He replies, all innocent.
“Playing dumb won’t get you anywhere.”
“What are you talking about? You love when I play with you.” He emphasizes his point with tendrils of shadow gripping up my leg, just past my knee. They press into my skin through my pants in a methodical, delicious pattern. I focus very hard on keeping my breathing steady.
“You are unbearable.”
“And yet, you bear me.”
Imogen walks in and takes one look at us before giving a long-suffering sigh.
“Should we circle back to this later? Or do we need to keep you two across the room from each other?”
“I’m not sure how, but I feel like that would make it worse.” Garrick quips. Sloane rolls her eyes, but doesn’t add anything.
“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?” Xaden asks, voice deceptively light.
“We’re just getting started.” Sloane remarks as she passes a folder to Xaden and I. “First up, I’ve organized the materials for the dlùth, and Brigid has begun working on it. Vi, you can help with it as much as you want, but it’s completely up to you.” Sloane moves through a list of matters efficiently, covering most everything with the reception, as well as a big chunk of the ceremony. We’ve gotten responses from guests about who is coming when and how, and ended up with about three hundred people in attendance: relatively small, all things considered. Garrick and Imogen volunteer for a handful of items as Sloane is going through her to-do list. With three months until our wedding day, it feels so close and so far away at once.
“Thank you, Sloane, this is great.” I thank her.
“Of course,” she smiles at me. “You know, I never dreamed about my wedding growing up, but. It feels good to celebrate our culture and do something–uncomplicated and happy.”
“Uncomplicated is not how I’d describe what you are handling.” Imogen says, gesturing to all the paperwork stacked around the room.
“I think it’s easier than running the whole country.” Sloane responds.
“You do a good deal of that, too.” I add.
“I don’t have to speak in front of the Assembly, so it’s not that bad. And, I don’t have to do any math!” Sloane says with a laugh. “You take care of a lot of that, Violet.”
“There’s plenty of work to go around.” I say with a shrug. Even after a year of ruling, it makes me uncomfortable to take the spotlight or too much credit. I catch Xaden watching me out of the corner of my eye.
“You gave us an independent Tyrrendor: planning your wedding and serving as an aide feels like the least I can do.” Sloane shrugs.
“Also, the governors and mayors are terrified of you, so that helps.” Garrick adds, throwing an arm around Sloane.
“They should be, you can be terrifying.” Imogen quips.
“Speaking of governors–” Garrick starts. “We’ve gotten all of the responses about who will be coming in June.”
“I don’t understand why we need an audience for it.” Xaden grumbles.
“Well, we haven’t had Tyrrish leadership in about six hundred and fifty years. I think establishing our independence warrants a party.” Sloane laughs. “And the coronation itself will take, what? Maybe half an hour?”
“And, most of the people coming to the coronation aren’t coming back in August. So, less politicking at your wedding.” Garrick hedges.
“You’re not looking forward to getting me back on that throne?” I tease him. Xaden fights the quirk of the corner of his mouth. “I believe you still need to bend me over the arm and fuck me until we’re both hoarse.”
“You cannot say things like that to me, Violence. Not when I can’t do anything about it.” His voice is strained in my mind, but he just slides his eyes over to me.
“Who said you can’t do anything about it?” I tease.
“I have to go out to the flight field to see Sgaeyl.” He says with an impressive amount of restraint.
“Then you’ll have something to look forward to tonight.”
“I always look forward to my nights with you.”
“Not again.” Garrick throws up his hands, exasperated.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Xaden says smoothly as I take his hand and tug him into the hallway, to the rest of our day.