"In that case, I definitely do."
The moment the words left my mouth, she straddled my lap. Her damp hair still carried the steam of the shower, several strands clinging to the curve of her neck.
The towel was loosely wrapped around her frame, slipping downward with her movement to reveal the smooth expanse of her back and the soft swell of her breasts.
"You terrified me," she whispered, looking down at me with brilliant purple eyes. "Ignoring me the entire ride back... though I imagine you rather enjoyed making Count Leonardo jealous, didn't you?"
I offered no denial. My hands moved directly to her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her soft, warm skin pressed tight, carrying the lingering traces of fresh water and sweet soap.
"Why ally yourself with a man like that?" I asked quietly, my fingers tracing the line of her spine down to the curve of her hip, gripping firmly.
She let out a soft hum without answering, leaning down to press her lips against mine. The kiss was fiercer than any before, laced with raw urgency and possessiveness as her tongue parted my lips and our breaths tangled together.
Through the fabric of my trousers, her lower body shifted against me, the growing warmth and moisture undeniable.
"But own me... only you," she murmured between broken breaths, her fingers working urgently at my buttons.
I pulled my shirt over my head to help her. She leaned down, pressing her lips to my chest while her wet hair brushed across my skin with a teasing prickle.
Her hand slid down past my waistband, wrapping firmly around me.
"So hard..." She looked up, her violet eyes glinting playfully as her thumb deliberately grazed the tip.
The phrase suddenly brought the memory of her sick ancestry back to mind, casting a cold shadow over the mood and clouding the edge of my arousal.
She seemed to sense the shift. Pausing in silence for a brief second, she leaned down and ran her tongue slowly along the length from base to tip with deliberate care, circling the crown and catching the faint moisture gathering there.
"Ever since the last time, you're the only one I want," she whispered, taking me fully into her mouth and drawing me in deep with measured, rhythmic warmth until the stiffness returned in full force.
A part of me felt she was using intimacy to keep me under her control, but my clear reasoning had long since surrendered. I managed only a breathless question: "Am I... really that special to you...?"
"You are the only person who makes me feel... safe," she said.
"Or do you just find it arousing that a proud Countess is held down by a nobody?"
"That too," she smiled playfully, lifting herself to straddle me once more. Bracing one hand against my chest and using the other to guide me, she lined up against her soaked entrance.
"You think far too much," she whispered, lowering herself slowly as her warmth enveloped me inch by inch, drawing a low, shuddering breath from her lips. "Ah... just focus on me..."
I clamped my hands around her hips and thrust upward in a single, sharp motion.
Her head fell back as a sharp gasp broke from her throat.
She began to set the rhythm, moving up and down against me while her breasts swayed before my eyes. Occasionally, she leaned forward, allowing me to take one taut nipple into my mouth to draw firmly on it while my hand cupped and rolled the other between my fingertips.
"Just like that... deeper... ah..." Her voice carried a trembling tension.
Without warning, I gripped her tight, rolling her over onto the sofa while keeping us joined. Hooking her legs over my shoulders, the shifted angle drove me in as deep as it would go, bottoming out with every single push. Her head arched back against the cushions; her lips parted.
I leaned in to bite gently at her earlobe, driving into her with heavier, relentless strokes.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her nails pressing deep into my skin. "Don't stop... please... take all of me... until I'm shaped by you..."
The frame of the sofa groaned with a steady rhythm. Her release hit with sudden force, the inner walls clenching violently around me as her legs locked taut over my shoulders. Giving her no pause to recover, I maintained the relentless pace, drawing out the tremor of her climax.
She tossed her head against the fabric, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "I... I can't take much more..."
"I don’t think so."
I turned her over onto her stomach, pressing back inside from behind. Her legs were forced wide as the wet friction slapped against the quiet room. Burying her face into the back cushion, her voice dissolved into muffled, broken cries. I reached an arm around her waist, stroking the swollen center between her thighs, feeling her body spasm again and again under the relentless stimulation.
When my release finally tore through, she collapsed against the sofa cushions, her back slick with sweat and marked with faint red impressions.
I gathered her up in my arms, pulling her against my chest as we caught our breath.
It took a long while before a serious thought crossed my mind.
"What if you get pregnant?"
"Then I will bear your child."
"Stop messing around, I’m serious."
"Mages are infertile," she replied, her voice thick with exhaustion. "You don't need to worry about holding back inside me."
I frowned slightly. No wonder she carried such deep insecurity; it gave those assassins yet another reason to see her life ended.
"Then what will happen to your succession?"
"It does not matter," she whispered. "All I care about is staying alive."
In that respect, she was no different from me.
I leaned down to press a soft kiss against her damp crown, pulling her that much closer.
But this time, I wouldn’t forget my Glock again.