The kiss was a slow, deep, possessive brand, a silent declaration that echoed the primal claim he had just stamped upon her very soul.
It was not a kiss of frantic need, but of profound, absolute ownership.
When he finally pulled back, Orianna was boneless, a beautiful, shattered creature held upright only by the unyielding steel of his arms around her.
The mirror still showed their reflection, but now the image was one of sated conquest, of a powerful predator and his utterly claimed mate.
The fire in her prismatic eyes had banked to a soft, adoring glow, the wild energy of the Dragon Queen replaced by the blissful contentment of a woman who had been thoroughly, completely, and lovingly ravaged.
Jax scooped her up, his strength seemingly inexhaustible. He carried her not with the brutal urgency of before, but with a tender, protective grace.
