Soren’s teeth graze over my collarbone, nipping at the swell of my bared breast before he sucks my nipple into his mouth with a groan. His movements are as languid as his statement promised; he intends on savoring every inch as though it’s possible to consume me entirely.
There’s a particular pleasure in knowing this prince is mine by the Fate’s command. I’ve never coveted anything, never allowed myself any such selfish desires, but this moment—and this male—are mine alone. Any doubts I had of his desires are burned away by the hard length pressing against my thigh as he works his way down my body.
With a tug he exposes the rest of my chest, the fabric bunching between my breasts, and he immediately ducks downto lave the other nipple with his attention, my core clenching at the rasp of his teeth carefully over my sensitive flesh. No matter my whimpered pleas, he continues his slow path down my body until my frustration has me writhing beneath him, my thighs rubbing together to find some relief but only deepening the ache within me.
When he finally flicks the panel of my robes away from my core, I moan so loudly I can’t help but blush at the sound. He smirks back at me with the satisfaction only a mated male could have at driving his Fates-blessed wife to the edge of madness. Scowling back at him, I open my mouth to protest only to have him kiss me, swallowing my groans when he finally slides two fingers deviously into my weeping pussy.
Slowly at first, a pace that could drive me to murder, soon he’s pumping three fingers steadily into me, the friction perfect and more than enough to send me over the edge after all of the teasing and petting he’s showered me with.
Then he hooks his fingers sharply upward and I come so suddenly, and with such intensity, that I lose my senses for a moment, only vaguely away that he’s murmuring praises to me as he watches me gush all over the bedroll we’re sharing. When the waves of pleasure finally abate he kisses me again, deep and slow, only pulling back when I’m sure I’ve lost all my senses.
“Tell me who you belong to, croí.”
Languid, my tongue heavy almost as though I’d overindulged on fairy wine, I have to focus to keep myself from tripping over my words as I rasp, “By Fates command, I’m yours.”
Rather than pleasing him, he growls dangerously at my response as his fingers slide through my slick pussy lips, the orgasm he’s drawn out of me already dripping down my thighs. “Fuck the Fates. Tell me who you choose, who you fought for, who you came back to this kingdom for.”
My eyes squeeze shut as his fingers slip back inside me, moving slowly for a moment before he does that wicked hook motion he’s determined to destroy me with and my stomach clenches when his thighs stop my own from closing around the indescribable pleasure. He watches it all with rapture, drinking it in as his own desires are pushed to the side, and when he’s finally had enough of delaying his own pleasures, he shifts forward without ever stopping the perfect torture of his fingers. Only once he’s lined himself up does he let them slip out, empty for only a second before his hips are driving forward in a relentless push.
Groaning at the girth of him stretching me out, I’m moaning wantonly by the time he’s fed my pussy the entire length. He pauses for a moment, looking down at me with a fierce look before he palms my hips gently and leans down to capture my lips in a blistering kiss once more. My magic sings to his, just as my blood does, and my heart, and every other inch of my body and soul but there’s no need for concerns. The desperate possession in his eyes says everything about his own feelings and it eases the answer to his demand out of me.
You, Donn—I returned to you.
Eyelids flaring quickly before they drop down, I feel the savage desire take over him and his soft handing proves to be nothing but a ruse as he straightens he uses his grip to move me on his length, meeting his every thrust until he’s pounding into me. Every rhythmic bounce of his hips against my core sends bursts of light before my eyes until I come again, letting out a guttural scream of my own as my pussy clenches around him and draws his release out alongside mine.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Soren
As the sun rises and dawn breaks over the forest there’s joy within in the air I've never felt before. It's not just the bone-deep satisfaction cloaking me, or the fact that the Ravenswyrd Forest recognizes me as one of its’ own now, but the return of life to the air we breathe. If this is the way kingdom should always have been, there’s no wonder we've become such miserable creatures. There's a peace within me I've never felt before, a violent and vicious need that’s finally been answered, and as the rustling sounds of my Fates-blessed wife moving behind me whisper in my ears and the calming aroma of her tea fills my lungs, the smile that stretches over my lips is pure satisfaction that she’s mine.
I’ll never truly have my fill; even after an entire night of tasting every inch of her, I’m desperate for more.
The moment I've taken my throne and Kharl Balzog and the rest of the Betrayers have been held accountable for their crimes, this is where I’m bringing Rooke. I'm sure I can convince the forest to keep everyone out no matter their intentions, just whilewe seek respite and solace for ourselves for a century or two, just as I’ve promised. Maybe then I’ll be able to bear other males in her presence without my magic lashing out and killing them for daring to exist around her.
An earthen mug appears before me, steam curling from briefly before disappearing into the frigid morning air, and I take it with murmured praises as Rooke folds herself onto the step beside me. With my linen shirt buttoned haphazardly covering most of her frame, the Celestial blue hue of it makes her eyes shine even brighter as she looks out at the dense line of trees before us. My view of her is captivating, holding me entranced as she lifts her own mug to her lips and blows against the piping hot brew. It's only when I see the flush growing over her cheeks that I realize how impractical it is for her to be sitting on the front steps of this hut in the early hours of the winter morning wearing very little.
Cursing under my breath, I tug my cloak from my own shoulders to wrap it firmly around hers, earning myself a haughty sigh that heats my blood and warms me despite the cold morning air.
"Now you're sitting out herenakedin the snow, how is that any better?"
Her sultry and amused tones are more dangerous to the fate of our kingdom than she could ever realize. I would do anything to hear it again, and the idea that another may have had the pleasure of coaxing them from her could incite a war with the Northern Lands. I'm not capable of reason or discretion, only a determination to covet her entirely.
"Airlie told me that our marriage would surely soothe the sharpened edges of your temper but I’m starting to doubt that," she murmurs, chuckling quietly under her breath as she leans further into my side.
There’s a quiet within her now that has nothing to do with the forest and everything to do with me, my greatest achievement yet. I hadn't noticed the cold of the morning but the warmth of her body against my own is startling, a reminder of all the skin and perfection now covered by my clothes, and with a growl I lean forward to capture her lips with my own. I can taste her amusement on her tongue, feel her own satisfaction at our Fates-blessed marriage and the sacrifices given to the land, and as she melts against me, I’ve never been so sure that every inch of this witch was made for me alone.
Her hands clutch at my arms to steady herself only for her fingers to pause over the ribbon still bound over my arm, breaking away from my lips as she brushes her fingertips gently against the careful stitches there. Swallowing roughly, a pulse of magic pushes out of her and into the fabric. The silk ripples like the surface of a lake dapples with light, and the small smudge of dust I hadn’t noticed falls away as though repelled. She moves to do the same with my namesake ribbon on her wrist, a layer of protective magic placed over them both, before she glances up at me with an unusually shy demeanor.
“Once bound, witches don’t take their ribbons off… unless they’re forced to. I don’t expect?—“
I cut her off, my tone too harsh but the idea of her questioning my commitment to her in any way draws the surly Unseelie high fae male right back out of me. “I’m not taking it off. It’ll go to the ashes with me, and the first person stupid enough suggest I remove it can serve as a warning to the rest of the kingdom. Anyone who attempts to removeeitherof our ribbons will meet a death so violent the goblin princes’ will have a new demise to fear, by the Fates I swear it.”
Her eyes soften, tears filling them easily, a mournful look that cracks open my chest to dig into my blackened heart, and I cup her face as gently as my scarred and calloused hands canmanage. “I was wrong. About you, your people, and countless other things. I’ve wronged you in ways I can never atone for, but I didn’t stand before the Fates to bind myself to you at their command alone.”
She hums under her breath to me, a soothing sound of satisfied agreement, but my words still feel so… paltry in comparison to all that she’s shared with me, all that she offers without ever asking for anything in return.
"When we rode out to Port Asmyr at the Fates command, I was expecting to find a Seelie Princess waiting for me there. I was eager to complete my fate and to see my kingdom saved from the bloodshed and violence, but I was secretly apprehensive, consumed by my concerns."
