Page 74 of The Queen's Line

Owen's eyes were glassy and unfocused, his brow furrowed and pupils full and black. "I'm here," he said, but it was a gasp. How long had we been out here in the sun like this? How many times had I come and taken Owen down with me, only for us to start all over again?

His mouth landed against mine, the kiss clumsy as we both groaned, bodies growing frenzied. I wanted to clutch Owen to me, to tie my legs and arms around him and cling to him as we both fell over the edge, but my skin felt heavy with magic and Owen was already soaking so much of it up—hadalready. I sobbed as the gentle tremble began to start in my muscles, and threw my hands back, digging my fingers into the grass and pressing my heels down on the blanket we lay on. Owen bucked, rising up on the palms of his hands and his knees, watching the quick slap of our flesh where we were joined, before his eyes slammed shut and his head was thrown back, the both of us crying out.

I kept my eyes open, watched the soft flash of color ripple out of us, the ground trembling and then suddenly bursting with a flash of red poppies rising up in the tall grass.

Owen's arms shook and he fell forward, collapsing heavily on my chest and knocking the breath from me. He groaned, tongue lapping at my breast as he started to continue to fuck me, hips stuttering and a low moan in the back of his throat.

"Owen, wait. Wait, love," I panted, wiggling beneath him, dirty fingertips pulling up from the earth to press to his shoulders.

He took the nudge as an invitation, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him, hissing as I sank a little further onto his cock.

"Owen, stop," I said, gently, reaching up to his brow to push his hair back and find his eyes.

He blinked at me, gaze foggy, and then again, a little clearer, eyes wincing.

"Ah, ow!" His hand left my hip to reach under himself, touching the back of his shoulder, his eyes widening. "I'm…oh. How long have we been…"

It probably wasn't funny, but a giggle slipped free at his startled expression. "I have no idea," I said, rising up off his lap, gasping at the hollow feeling as Owen whimpered.

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, grimacing.

"Are you all right?" I asked, moving quickly down to his side, my thighs squeezed together to try and ignore the soft throb of craving.

"I'm…" He laughed, and his head dropped to the ground, tilting to face me. "I don't think I realized what you were so worried about before. Don't worry," he added, leaning in and kissing between my eyebrows. "I'm all right. Definitely sunburnt and a little…over sensitive. I remember everything, I just remember not being able to stop."

"I tried not to—"

"Shh, Bryony, it's fine. I didn'twantto stop. Thatwasme. But perhaps there are reasons why cocks should go soft," he said, still smiling. He started to shift on the blanket and then immediately stilled, eyes narrowing. His closer hand lifted and brushed against my cheeks, revealing a soft stinging sensation. "I know a cure for our sunburns too we can use later. For now, come here."

I scooted closer, pressing against Owen's bare side and resting my cheek against his shoulder.

"It's late in the year for poppies," Owen said, and I could feel his chuckle against me.

"I worry about the magic sometimes—"

"Sometimes?" he asked, teasing.

I pinched his chest and Owen laughed. "We don't know what it will mean for the poppies next spring. Have I forced them to grow too soon and now they won't come back?"

"These poppies will leave seeds for the spring, too. I don't think you're taking life from the earth, I think you're just giving it a boost. The birds don't seem to mind," he added, passing a hand through the air above us.

The birdswereespecially noisy, but it was just a kind of music, and a few came down to the blanket and grass to root around in Owen's pockets. "Perhaps they're offended by our performance," I said.

Owen made a sweetpftof dismissal. "This? This is applause. They would've flown away if they disapproved."

I laughed and rolled to lean over Owen for a kiss when I discovered that the birds weren't our only audience. On the balcony overlooking the meadow behind the palace, stood Daniel Farraque. He was sitting on the ledge, leaning against the wall, one leg hanging down and the other bent and perched, his eyes turned to Owen and I.

"We're being watched. Not by birds," I said, fairly certain that Farraque and I had locked gazes, although it was hard to tell from this distance.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be better to get rid of him? Send him back to the council?" Owen asked, craning his neck to see.

Owen was the only one I'd told about what had happened in the training room between me and Farraque. Owen had caught me in my bluster directly afterward, before I'd decided that it would be a secret. What would Daniel Farraque do next under such a direct rebuffing? Apparently…nothing but observe.

"They'll just send someone else," I said to Owen.

"Do you want your dress?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not until we get ready to go back in. I don't want him thinking he affects me."