Chapter 83, page 613:

She didn't know which one of them moved first, but then Rowan's mouth was on hers, and Aelin gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, claiming him as he claimed her.

The caress of his lips was a gentle thing after the hellish shit-hole that had been today. All morning her shoulders had been tight with nerves at what was to come, and when the ordeal was upon her, it was so much worse than she'd expected. Dorian's appearance and abnormally cold demeanor, watching him take the life of his father, and with the King's death there came a terrible sorrow at the full understanding of what he had done to the world.

That, along with the fact that she'd had to browbeat the sad inhabitants of this city. In the beginning, she hadn't pitied them at all. No, she'd walked to the town's center filled with a fiery wrath, at whom she was not sure. But then she'd stood on that pedestal in the center of them all, gazing out at the assembled crowd of tear-stained cheeks and mourning mothers, and she'd realized that she might be threatening an already tortured people. Their gazes turned hopeful once they lay eyes on her, a golden queen come to redeem them from her homeland. Instead of acknowledge it, she took a breath and tamped down on the sympathy twisting in her gut. Her eyes were cold and hard as she set down her rules, took responsibility for the King's death and proclaimed her ownership of the land. Until further notice.

And then she'd left, spine straight and gait even, until iron doors slammed shut behind her and great walls of stone loomed above her head. There, it had been no surprise that she'd broken down. The tears were deep, fatigued, and they drained the energy from her like nothing else, but then strong hands had lifted her up and out of there, down the hall and into the quiet of a room, already filled with the scent of pine and snow.

A minute later, Lorcan's scent had leaked in through the closed door, and Rowan had left with a hushed promise to return. She took the solace gratefully, using the moment to catch her wits and dry her tears. To slow the rabbit-thump of her heart. When Rowan was one again with her, it was back to their almost-confessions, interrupted only to slide into each other's warmth and slam the door in Aedion's face.

Of course, it was no time at all before they were kissing, Rowan's fingers woven through her hair and hers clutching tight to his shoulders. She sighed against his mouth when his tongue folded around hers, and the hand on her waist flexed involuntarily. From the beginning, the passion between them had been strong, but now she could feel his desire through their bond, hot little pulses that shocked and ground against her own want. And despite it all, his tongue was gentle and soothing, as if he was hesitant to do anything rough with her on a day with as harsh a history as this one.

Perhaps she should've been content with her lot, but found instead, as with every time she touched him, it was not enough.

Her body demanded more, so, in a sudden motion, she lifted her hands to cup his jaw and pressed her body flush against his. Her thighs burned from where she'd been holding herself up above him, but she ignored it, pushed high enough that her hips brushed his stomach.

When she slanted her mouth over his, tugged at his lip with those elongated canines, and scraped her nails against his cheek, he let out a groan loud enough to have her blood sizzling.

She responded promptly, by grinding down against the bulge in his pants, then reaching down for his hand at her waist. Rowan broke the kiss with a question on his lips, one that died away as Aelin guided his palm to her breast. His eyes snapped to hers, finding them heavy and sodden with pleasure, the blue clouded over in a haze of lust, lips parted and hair disheveled. And then his mind caught up to his body, gaze falling to where he touched her.

A growl ripped from his throat, unwilling. Her flesh was feverish, nipples peaked despite the warmth, because of him —

But then his thoughts were scattering, because Aelin had moaned and arched her back, and her mouth was open in the prettiest little O...

And shit that was definitely not pleasure as she grimaced, hands shooting to her wounded spine.

She must've noticed his hesitation, because she dropped her arms immediately, hid her wince and murmured, "Don't stop. It's nothing."

But his hand was already slackening. She watched its descent to his side with something akin to incredulity.

Rowan's amused chuckle broke her from her trance.

Frustrated, she snarled, reminding him that she had needs.

Rather than resume — as he should've — he pulled her against his chest, mindful of her injuries, hands decidedly less possessive and more you're so cute when you're stupid. She didn't like that, especially as he huffed into her ear, "Aelin, I've no interest in bedding an invalid."

She snorted. "Rowan, don't be a shitbrain."

"I'm being serious, Highness." His nose grazed her ear. "We've waited this long. Surely you're not getting eager?"

Aelin cocked a brow and grinned, let one hand slide dangerously close to the jut in his trousers. "You tell me."

Rowan shook his head, the faint smile on his lips turning to something decidedly wicked. "You'd never be able to keep up with me, the way you are now," he said, voice low and husky. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You can wait."

And then he was pulling away.

Aelin let out a squeak as suddenly she found her body unsupported, hovering in open air. It was her reflexes that had her arms shooting out to catch her on the bed, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mala for blessing her with Fae heritage.

Her relief vanished quite quickly when she found Rowan's warmth on the other side of the bed, already rolled onto his back and watching her. He nodded to the space between them. "So you don't get any ideas."

Aelin shot him a rude gesture.

He only smiled and turned onto his side, blankets tucked over his bare chest.

Aelin blinked from where she sat cross-legged on the sheets. He thought this was over.

Well.

She'd show him.

With a devilish smile, she flopped back against the sheets, earning a surprised grunt from Rowan. She paid him no mind, though, thoughts set to another task.

Where to start...

One of her hands she let trail up her side, pause before reaching her breasts, and then slide back down again. The other busied itself in her hair, tugging the way Rowan had been only minutes before. Of their own accord, her eyes slid shut, replaying the feel of his lips down her throat, hand a warm and steady weight on her hip. She shifted on the bed, fingers tightening in her hair.

At her near-inaudible sigh, Rowan stiffened beside her. "What are you doing?" His voice was tight.

She hummed, hand slipping from her hair in favor of her neck, letting the nails scrape just slightly —

She moaned.

The touch on her stomach grew rougher when she realized Rowan had turned over to watch her.

Her eyes opened, slow, lips curved in a fiendish smile. "Well," she began, voice a tight, breathy thing. "You won't to do anything, so I'm going to have to take care of myself, hm?"

Her hand had trailed down to her navel, slow taunting circles. Rowan's gaze was trained to it.

Aelin teased him for a few moments longer, enjoying the way she felt under his eyes, powerful and in control, even with him on the other side of the bed.

"Well?" His voice was a growl from deep in his chest.

Aelin took in his form. The powerful lines of his body, gleaming in the moonlight filtering in through the window, the sharp curve of his hips, and the bulge that was evident even through the blankets. She swallowed. Before she could talk herself out of it, her fingers had slipped past the waistband of her already scanty underwear, brushed through that coarse thatch of curls and dipped into her slick.

Her breath quickened when Rowan's hips jerked forward, a curse falling from his lips. His own hand had disappeared beneath the blankets, but she could guess well enough where it had ended up.

Fuck.

She wasted no time in finding the pearl of flesh that set her gasping and twitching.

Rowan cursed again, and she felt the mattress dip as he shifted. Her eyes were shut tight, so she could only smell him as he leaned in above her. But she could sure as hell feel when his lips touched hers and his hand moved to join hers between her thighs.

He didn't push her away or demand that she let him do all the work. Instead, he let her guide him through the motions, show him what made her breath quicken and core tighten. He was a fast learner. Within minutes, she was gasping against his shoulder, his mouth nuzzling her throat.

When his fingers brushed her entrance, her head fell back against the bed. "Shit."

Like before, she showed him through the steps, but unlike before, she let her own actions cease in favor of his.

With one finger stretching inside her, another teasing the area around her clit, she breathed his name, "Rowan."

He kissed her, hard and hot and wanting, revealing just how desperate he was. His hand moved faster against her, three fingers in her now, thumb pressing against her clit.

She panted against him, and indeed she could barely keep up with the assault on her senses, especially when he sent a whisper of wind against her peaked breasts.

"Come on, Fireheart," he murmured.

His fingers pushed in and out, stretching just so...

"Come for me."

The wind picked up, insistent this time, a deliberate caress against her neck, chest, stomach. His free hand moved to assist his other, trading places with the thumb at her clit.

She gasped as she came, feeling the pleasure crash through her limbs...then let out a long moan as it continued on. Vaguely, she felt the absence of one of Rowan's hand, but she couldn't focus on anything when the world was in splinters.

It took longer than she'd admit to come down from her high, but as the night once again came into focus, she heard a very distinctive hiss.

Her gaze shifted, only to find Rowan, a hand down his pants, eyes shut tight.

He was coming, she realized. Lips parted, she watched him. He was quiet, save for that hiss of breath, and his entire body shot into focus, muscles tight and jaw clenched, throat bobbing, hair stuck to the nape of his neck.

When he was through, Aelin gave him a tired, albeit shit-eating, grin. "Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Rowan huffed a laugh, voice deeper than normal as he said, "Let me remind you, Princess, you were the one who started it."

"You didn't seem to mind." She nestled into his warmth.

His arms wrapped around her from behind. "No, that I didn't."