Tears prick my eyes, and I do not have words. I close my eyes, pressing my brow against his as I try to calm the flood of emotion.
Then, after a moment, "Don't tell Fiorakis I took hers either," I say. I hold back a smile before leaning in to bite his shoulder, the warmth of his blood spreading across my tongue. A low, primal sound tears from his chest, rough and unrestrained. "No more holding back," he says, voice dark, almost feral, as he yanks me into a hard kiss, hands clamping down on my hips with bruising force. He doesn't wait or hesitate, his body surging with raw instinct as he shifts us in one violent motion, lifting me off his lap and pressing me hard into the throne's seat. His weight pins me there as he climbs over me, every movement driven by unrestrained need. "You do this to me," he rasps, breath uneven, lips dragging against my jaw. “I can't stop now. I won't."
His fingers trace over my abdomen, lingering on the smooth skin where scars once were. "The wound is gone," he mutters, almost to himself, tone low with a mix of awe and regret, his touch sending a faint tremor through me. I nod, eyes locked on his, the memory of that old pain tightening my chest for a moment.
He stares down, expression torn open, searching mine. "I should've known that by now, Asharin. I swear—" I cut him off,lips crashing into his, urgent and fierce, pouring everything into the contact. He speaks against my mouth, voice breaking, "Love me anyway." It's a plea, hands dragging me closer, needing to feel every inch of me. When he thrusts back in, hard and unrelenting, pleasure rips through me again, my legs trembling as a cry escapes. His fingers keep working me through the peak, stretching the sensation until I'm breathless. He doesn't let up, kissing me, mouthing at my neck, hands gripping tight, unable to stop touching.
Then he slows, looking down at me, his focus so intense it pins me in place, heat rising to my face. "I'm at my limit, Asharin," he says, voice strained, barely holding together. "I can't hold on much longer. Tell me what you want. Now."
I blink, chest rising and falling fast, lost in the force of him. "What do you mean?" His jaw clenches, words rough with need as he kisses me quick and hard before speaking. "I want to finish inside you, make this ours. But I won't if you're not ready for more children right now."
"And you?" I ask, voice quiet, studying the tension in his face as his hands slide up my sides, pulling me tighter against him.
He kisses me again, deep and urgent, then pulls back just enough to speak, breath ragged. "I'll wait if I have to, or I won't, as long as we have more someday. As long as I get you again, over and over." His lips press to mine, then to my collarbone, touch relentless, like he's consumed by needing me.
I tug him closer, fingers threading through his hair. “It’ll happen again. We’ve got time ahead of us.” I hold his eyes. “The healer gave me herbs to take after.”
He nods and kisses me again, nearly frantic. “Then don’t stop me,” he says, voice raw, almost begging. I don’t. My teeth catch his lip, pulling a rough sound from him.
"You were my first kiss," he mutters, memory exposed in his tone, dragging me into another deep, possessive kiss.
"And you're the only man who's ever touched me like this," I say. At that, he makes a broken noise, then thrusts into me, slow now, each motion heavy, drawing out the ache as my body tightens around him. Pleasure builds again, my hands clutching his back, nails scraping across his skin. His breath comes hot against my neck, uneven, lips brushing me constantly, hands never still. Each push feels like a silent promise, something deeper between us taking hold.
The memory comes quickly, our moans of pleasure blending with the ones of the past, the one where he was my first. That fragile trust and vulnerability. The dream of a life we were scared to hope for because no one had ever given to us what we gave each other.
It wasn’t fragile. It was here, and it wasn’t without flaws or mistakes. But it was still perfect. And I wasn’t going to give up on it.
"I changed my mind," I whisper. He pauses. "Maybe I don't want herbs. Because the thought of giving you another one--" He presses his lips against mine, a low sound rumbling from his chest as he presses into me, thrust after thrust. That pull he spoke of, the one he tried to bury. I feel it now.
But then, something changes. I feel him getting bigger inside me, a strange pressure building, stretching me in a way that's unfamiliar. My eyes widen, a gasp escaping as I grip hisshoulders tighter. His chest flushes a deep crimson, the points of his teeth pressing through, and his expression shifts to one of shock, mirroring my own confusion. "What is this, Colsar?" I ask, my voice trembling with the intensity. "Fuck," he mutters, his eyes wide, almost disbelieving. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, his breathing ragged. "Fuck."
"Talk to me," I demand, my hands clutching at him, needing answers even as my body responds to the growing sensation. He looks at me, his eyes wild, unguarded. "Siakars...we bind our—" He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as he swells even more inside me, the pressure intensifying. I've never seen him this unhinged, this raw, completely losing the control he's always clung to. He looks down at me, eyes wild. “It’s sealed with this.”
"So why is it happening now?" I gasp, the stretching almost overwhelming, teetering on the edge of pain but laced with a dark, consuming pleasure.
"Because you gave me two children," he growls, his voice rough, desperate. "Because I'm in love with you. So now there is nothing of me that is not yours." His grip tightens, like he can't stop it anymore. He swells further, the knot growing until it's almost unbearable, pressing against a sensitive spot deep inside me. I moan, and instinctively, I move my hips up, grinding against him, chasing that overwhelming feeling.
Colsar closes his eyes. “I have never felt this,” he says, almost to himself. He stays there for a moment, hands trembling at my sides. Then, with a shaky breath, he slides a hand between us, fingers rubbing hard, while he keeps thrusting, slow but deep, each movement amplified by the knot locking us together.
"Oh, fuck," I cry out, my moans echoing off the walls as pleasure builds to a breaking point. My hips buck wildly against him, the knot hitting that spot over and over until I can't hold on. My release crashes through me in a messy, uncontrollable rush, dripping onto the throne beneath us.
His hands shake harder, his breathing uneven, ragged, as he watches me come apart. The sight pushes him over the edge, and he comes immediately, in a way I've never seen before. Jets of his release coat my insides as he throws his head back and roars, the sound primal, uncontrollable, shaking the very air of the throne room. “You—” he gasps, voice splintering as he reaches his end, spilling into me with a shuddering release. His body locks tight, muscles rigid, a deep groan ripping from him as heat pulses inside me, wave after wave, hips jerking slightly with the aftershocks. “Are mine,” he breathes finally.
His grip turns almost painful, forehead pressed to mine, breath short and ragged as he works through it, trembling, refusing to let go even as the strain eases from his frame. We stay like that, locked together, panting, drenched in sweat and our combined mess, the throne cold against my back as his weight holds me down.
“I am glad we took off our clothes, or we would not be able to return to the ball,” I murmur.
Colsar does not respond. His breathing is still ragged, his body trembling. After a long moment, he speaks, voice hoarse. "We remain like this until I go down. The knot... it keeps us bound for a while."
I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper, “Even this isn't close enough.” He looks down at me, hair falling in his face, the ridged edge of his teeth still visible, not fully receded. "I didn'tknow this would happen, but this is what I was running from without realizing it. The emotion that comes with wanting you like this. And I was a fool."
"Why now?"
"Because among siakars…there is nothing more attractive, more worthy of love, than birthing. Giving life." His breath is warm against my ear as he leans down. "You...you have given me everything. And now it makes sense, how after we first met you managed to turn me into someone not even I can recognize."
"How?"
He pulls me tight. “Because some part of me knew I would end up here. That I would give you things I had never given anyone. Everything I held back… I just put in your hands. There is nothing of me you do not have, Asharin.”
