Fifty-Nine

                                    

                                          
Noelle
The sun warms my face, stirring me awake, and when my eyelids flutter open, I'm confused for a moment. At first, I expect to be on the hard mattress in Dante's dungeon, then the four-post bed in France. 
But when I realize I'm at home in Elijah's bed, in his arms, a sense of relief like no other washes over me, covering me like the coziest, warmest blanket. I snuggle deeper into the covers and against his chest, not wanting to break the spell of the hazy morning glow. 
Glancing up at him, I'm once again mesmerized by the sheer beauty of my mate's face, his body...his entire being. His eyes are closed, his long, dark lashes resting against his skin, his chest rising and falling easily, his strong arms wrapped around my waist. 
I was so close to losing him, felt the tether that keeps us together straining to the very limit, and having him here with me now has to be the most precious gift I've ever been given. 
I can't stand it anymore; I need to touch him. Reaching up to his face, I trail my fingertips along his jaw, tracing the lines and angles until my thumb grazes his full bottom lip. 
He cracks one eye open and looks down at me. "How are you feeling?"
I consider his question for a moment. After he killed Dante, everything was a blur—the shift back to human form, the rush to get out of Colombia, the exhaustion I felt the moment we sat down on the plane. Elijah spent the entire flight in silence, his attention out the window. I didn't need to ask him what was wrong, I knew he was mourning the loss of his best friend. Despite all the shit Asher put us through, watching him die in such a horrific way was traumatic for all of us. Once we arrived home, we had enough energy to greet Corbin and Bennett and fall in bed. But half a day had passed since then and I was rested and safe with the man I love. 
"I'm okay." I punctuate my words with a kiss on his collarbone. "I'm here with you, and we are both alive. That is more than I thought I was going to have thirty-six hours ago. How are you?" I whisper against his skin.
"I've been better, yet I'm the best I've ever been. Everything feels very surreal."  
I laugh and say, "I know what you mean. I'm the fucking lycan queen. So I 100% feel the surreal thing." A thought occurs to me, one I hadn't considered yet. I look up at him and push his hair off his forehead. "I know how much you wanted to be an Alpha with your own pack like Corbin...and now, things have changed for you. Are you okay with being...I don't know, are you considered king? Or like, the queen's consort?" I wiggle my brows playfully. 
He pulls me into his arms and rolls on top of me. Brushing the hair back from my face, he gazes at me and releases a long sigh. Every muscle in his body relaxes like the weight of the world no longer rests on his shoulders alone. "I'm your mate; that is the most important role I can have. But I'm sure that you being queen will give me some perks. I could always command your royal guard, sneak you away from important meetings," he kisses the side of my neck, "ravish you in the throne room."
I stretch my neck to give him more access to my skin and let out a contented sigh. "Oh yeah? That sounds like the first order of business I'd like to take care of as queen. But we don't have a throne room here yet. So...I think you'll have to ravish me here first. Do I need to make that an official order?" I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him flush against me, feeling the proof of his desire against the apex of my thighs. 
Elijah grabs my wrists and pins my hands above my head. "You can have control of every other lycan, but I'm dominating this, my queen." 
He dips his head and slides his lips over the swells of my breasts. I arch from the mattress, eager to have more of his mouth on me. I'm aching to feel his tongue and his teeth, for him to take me with all the pent-up passion I saw radiating from him when he refused to touch me.