The queen's moans echoed through the ancient tomb as Liam's mouth worked her big breasts, his lips and tongue teasing her dark nipples, sucking hard enough to make her tremble on the cold stone of the king's tomb. Her body was alive, buzzing with a need she hadn't felt in centuries, and she couldn't get enough of him—his heat, his hunger, the way he made her feel like she wasn't just some forgotten relic.
He's… gods, he's everything, she thought, her hands roaming his back, nails scraping through his shirt as she pulled him closer, her thick thighs squeezing his hips. But she wanted more—wanted to touch him, taste him, make him feel as wild as he was making her. Her hands slid down, fumbling over his chest, his waist, until they found the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling with urgency.
"Liam," she murmured, her voice low and husky, breaking away from his mouth on her nipple for just a second. He pulled back, his breath heavy, eyes dark as he watched her hands move.
