Consort's Glory: The New Protectorate: Book One by Abigail Kelly

Author:Abigail Kelly [Kelly, Abigail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

After days of non-stop, increasingly unpleasant surprises, Margot thought she was unshockable.

The sight of Theodore Solbourne, Sovereign, kneeling between her thighs on the checkered floor of an old soap factory locker room forced her to reevaluate.

He’s going to marry me.

The thought circled her mind like a lazy buzzard, just out of reach. There were no ifs or buts. Theodore intended to marry her. He wasn’t going to siphon off her magic. He wasn’t going to hide her away. She could feel his lust, his determination, thrumming through their bond.

Theodore took up space in the back of her mind as arrogantly as he did in real life — as if he was always meant to be there, smug and deliciously, terrifyingly focused on her.

It should have bothered her that he wasn’t asking, but Margot was a practical woman. There was no choice. There was no asking, because that would give the illusion that she could say no; that there was even the chance she would.

She wouldn’t.

Because this thing he was offering her, this predator skimming his clawed hands up the insides of her thighs, was beyond price. It was beyond dreams. It was beyond imagining.

He was offering her a world where she no longer had to hide.

I’ll be his consort, she thought, heart racing. I’ll be untouchable.

With the might of the Solbourne family behind her, who would dare use her blood against her? Who would lay a hand on the elvish mother she didn’t know? Who?

She had hoped to never have to hide from her bondmate, but this was beyond anything she could dare to dream up. A life where she didn’t have to dunk herself in Noscent three times a day? No more skin-stripping showers? No more terror at being sniffed too much, of being looked at too closely?

The rest of what he told her would need to be digested, of course. She would need to think about what this pull meant for her, and what it would really mean to marry the sovereign of the EVP, but that would be—

Theodore dipped his head to press a searing, open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh.

“I can feel your mind working,” he murmured against her skin. His lips were hot, his tongue wet as he paused to lick a stripe up to the gusset of her panties. “Stop. We’ll figure it all out later. Right now, focus on me.”

“I am focused on you,” she replied unsteadily. “You’ve got your head between my legs.”

Theodore shot her a sharp — literally, considering the four little razors that were elvish incisors — grin that brought out his boyish dimples. His eyes, chips of obsidian in the darkness, were heavy-lidded with a look of desire that made her pulse throb between her legs.

“Yes,” he agreed, amiable and totally unflustered as he pressed two fingers against the damp gusset of her panties. The sharp spike of pleasure from that simple, firm touch made her whole body jerk. “I am going to live here for a while.

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