The Cursed Kingdom

Warning: Mature content ahead.

~ THE ECLIPSE ~

As soon as Henrik shut his bedroom door behind me, my attention was stolen by the thick smell that invaded the air, causing my mouth to water and my empty stomach to rumble in anticipation. I could practically taste the sweet tang of freshly smoked meat already on my tongue.

My head snapped to the left and towards the table in Henrik’s sitting area, the one closest to a window and where we usually played board games because of the view. Now on top of it were two covered platters the sizes of carriage wheels and a ice-filled metal tin with a bottle of champagne inside. Two China plates, a plethora of napkins and silverware, and drinking glasses had been placed on it as well.

“I perceived you wouldn’t want to eat in the ballroom,” Henrik stated, my eyes transfixed by the steam coming from the platters, “so I had a few servants grab extras and bring them up here.”

As soon as he was done speaking, the sound of fabric met my ears. I looked behind me and watched him in a dazed-like state shrug off his jacket, open his side of the wardrobe, and place it on the hanger furthest to the left.

Henrik wasn’t exactly the most organized person ever and some of his habits irked me, such as how he bent the corners of books to save his reading place, squeezed his container of toothpaste near the top, and his office always had papers and books thrown around everywhere. But he did have a way of placing things that somehow seemed to work for him and his strange mind. An example of this was our wardrobe. His formal apparel he always hung on the left side while his casual outfits remained on the right, which was fine but I preferred to divide my clothes by both weather and color.

Henrik bent down and unlaced his black leather shoes with deft fingers, slipping them off and placing them in one of the cubbies of the wardrobe that was under the two shelves. When he looked back at me after he shut the wardrobe door, I could feel the inevitable tension enter the room as he processed that I’d been watching him.

My ears burned and I cast my eyes to the floor.

He cleared his throat and walked swiftly past me to the table, taking off his crown and placing it on the small side table beside his couch as he did so.

“They couldn’t bring everything but I hope this all will suffice nonetheless,” Henrik told me as he lifted the platters’ metal coverings and revealed a steaming plate of meat and one that was entirely filled with colorful bite-sized desserts.

My eyes mindlessly drifted away from the mountain ranges of food and trailed over Henrik’s room, as if I was seeing it for the first time all over again. I took in the myrpeople carved into his fireplace, every piece of furniture, the new bouquet of flowers on the table next to my side of the bed, and then finally I looked at the tidy bed, my stomach growing heavy.

I clasped my sweaty palms in front of me, my nails digging into the back of my hands.

Although I didn’t have any intimate experience besides kissing, in my adolescent years, I learned quite a bit about sex in school alongside some books aimed at adult audiences.

There was a time where I’d come across an entire novel filled with provocative images in Tylem and Taylium’s home hidden behind a pile of nicknacks and objects I’d perceived as unimportant in their living area. Whether it belonged to one of the twins or their parents, I didn’t know. But I was young and curious, just beginning to walk through the first threshold of puberty, and looked at almost every single page while everyone was asleep one night. Afterwards, I never thought about it again—or at least I tried not to.

“I don’t know if I can right now,” I admitted, biting my lip and twisting my wedding band and engagement ring around my finger. ”Eat, I mean.”

“Oh,” Henrik said, his eyes trailing over my figure as if he could see the fear flowing through my veins. His eyebrows furrowed, casting a shadow over his eyes in the room only lit by the lamp on his nightstand.

Sighing, he turned to the bucket of ice and grabbed the bottle of champagne by its neck, pulled the cork out with his fingers as if it was nothing, and poured himself a glass. I watched him sip on the fizzing liquid, every bob of his throat for some reason making me feel more nervous.

“I hope you understand me well enough to know I’d never force you to do something you don’t want to do,” he said, his back still turned to me. It irked me for some reason. It felt like it was his subtle way of trying to hide. “We don’t have to consummate anything tonight if that is what you wish.”

His words just made me want him undoubtedly more.

It’d taken me months but I finally realized as I stood there, staring at the back of him, his respect went far deeper than just for my beliefs but rather for me as a person. Henrik could have easily had his way with me if he pleased, not just because of his physical strength but his title as well. Instead, he’d fought against his Lycan instincts and had gone out of his way for our wedding to make sure it followed all of my traditions.

And, even though marriage was the only condition I required of him before we did anything intimate, he was still willing to wait if I wasn’t comfortable. Despite him practically pulling me off of my throne after an hour as promised and shoving me up all four flights of stairs to his room, eagerness and excitement in every step, he would still wait if it meant my happiness.

That, to me, meant more than I could’ve ever hoped for in a husband.

“No,” I said, watching his back stiffen, obviously misunderstanding the meaning behind the word. “I mean, I want to but can we... take our time?”

Henrik gave a single nod and took in a deep, calming breath. “Of course.”

I hesitantly reached up and took my crown off, looking at it and shifting its weight between my hands and eyeing my pale reflection in its smooth surface. When I was little, I used to think crowns were what made a monarch a ruler. After all, whenever my friends and I played dress up, whoever was portraying the king or queen wore something on their head to symbolize themselves as such. But as I stared at it I recognized it for what it was: a piece of gold forged into a circle to fit my head with points on top. With or without it, I was still the Queen of Galycia. But without me, it was nothing. There was something empowering about the thought.

I walked over and placed the crown on the table next to Henrik’s, noticing how much larger his was compared to mine.

I stood there awkwardly for another moment, fiddling with my fingers as Henrik continued to sip on more champagne.

“Should I take my dress off?” My voice was squeaky and awkward.

The Cursed King drowned the rest of his glass in one go and cleared his throat. “No, I will do it.” Henrik sauntered towards me. Just seeing the way he carried himself, the broad plane of his shoulders to the smooth sway of his hips, made me gulp and look away nervously. He walked behind me and I held my breath, already feeling my body flare with heat from the pressure and warmth that came from his fingers touching the back of my dress. “Why are there so many godsdamn buttons?” he muttered in a frustrated growl, making me laugh and forget all my nerves for a few seconds.

The buttons were indeed very small, all fifteen of them straight down the center of my spine and intentionally very close together to ensure there were no gaps. I could understand how Henrik’s large fingers no doubt were having a hard time gripping onto them and maneuvering them through the holes.

Finally, after a couple, long, and torturous minutes, I felt him reach the last one against my tailbone and the dress was barely hanging onto my shoulders. All it took was a gentle tug of the sleeves and it pooled at my feet. I apprehensively stepped out, dressed in only a corset and pair of thin underwear. Every hair on my body stood on edge when Henrik walked in front of me and took a small step backwards.

His gaze burned me and I awkwardly shifted from foot to foot.

At first I had been unsure of the corset since I’d never worn one before and I feared it’d look too immodest. But Callie had insisted, telling me that a lot of females wore even more scandalous things on normal days. Now I finally understood her persistence. Nothing he hadn’t seen before were on display but still his eyes dilated, scanning the low-cut, white material that revealed my line of cleavage. He stared at me like I was a newfound piece of art, his eyes raking over every curve of my body like he was assessing and planning everything he wanted to do.

I gasped in surprise when Henrik quickly knelt down and undid the straps on my heels, his fingers working so fast they reminded me of a spider crafting its web. As soon as he was done, I stepped my aching, red, and quite hideously swollen feet out of them with his help, the back of my heels feeling oddly as if they were sinking in sand.

Henrik’s hands mindlessly caressed over the smooth skin of my calves, his fingers stopping momentarily to circle a birthmark on my knee, and slowly rose higher and higher—

“Now you,” I said and he chuckled darkly and almost vengefully as I stepped away and headed towards the table, making sure to add an extra sway to my hips and hoping I wasn’t making myself look more like a virgin fool by doing so.

Not being able to help myself, I looked over my shoulder and saw him in the middle of undoing the buttons of his black shirt, staring shamelessly and hungrily below my tailbone.

I quickly turned around, not trusting myself enough to not faint if I watched him any longer, and grabbed the champagne bottle in a too-hard grip to pour myself half a glass. The liquid was smooth and sweet yet not too sweet to be nauseating, the burst of bubbles on the roof of my mouth giving me some comfort.

Breathe, breathe, I told myself before downing the rest of it, savoring its gentle burn.

We hadn’t even started yet and already I was sweating, my whole body feeling as if it was standing underneath a beam of sunlight.

It wasn’t truly the thought of consummating with Henrik that scared me. I trusted him enough to know he’d make sure I felt secure and that the experience would be enjoyable. However, the thought of me doing everything so horribly so he would never desire me again entered my mind and made me physically ill. Although I knew the gists of what to do, a few ugly, dramatized illustrations and Callie’s suggestive jokes did absolutely nothing to give me the confidence of knowing how to pleasure anyone, let alone a three century year old Lycan king.

When I looked back after settling down my glass, I was startled to see Henrik standing in the center of the room where I’d left him but now in only his boxer briefs, his clothes thrown carelessly around him and my wedding dress pushed aside. It was a sight I wasn’t unused to, since he always slept in his underwear, but it still shocked me nonetheless, having expected him to at least still be wearing trousers.

I slowly walked over, golden eyes calculating my every movement.

When I was just a foot away from him, my eyes in level with his chest, I reached up and softly touched a thick line of ink on his right pectoral, tracing its unique pattern. His skin was surprisingly smooth with thin patches of dark hair along his chest that narrowed down to a single line on his stomach that vanished under his briefs.

Henrik’s breath hitched which encouraged me to continue so I made sure my digits followed every swirl on the right side of him, feeling his muscles twitch and flex under my light touch, until they led me around to his back.

My exploration came to a pause when my fingertip was met with a particularly deep scar and before I could think properly, I leaned forward and placed a light kiss on top of it. I felt Henrik shudder, muttering something under his breath. I swept my lips over it and to the one next to it before repeating the gesture, making sure to still trace his tattoos with my fingers. I did this to all of the scars my short height allowed me to until I placed a kiss on his bicep right above his elbow where another thick pockmark was, and walked around, seeing his eyes screwed shut and his hands in fists at his sides.

My eyes snapped down to his boxer briefs where I could see the outline of what was causing him such turmoil. The sight had a new found confidence blossom inside me, knowing that I had that effect on such a large and powerful male. I trailed my hand down to the band of his boxer briefs and skimmed with a apprehensive curiosity over the black material—

Henrik grabbed my wrist, his grip tight but gentle. “Don’t,” he rasped. “I want to... I want to touch you first.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Just like before, he smoothly strode behind me and grabbed onto the back of my corset. He snarled and I could practically hear his teeth elongating. “You females need to stop making your clothing so complicated.” His breath tickled my ear. I felt each tug on the straps of my corset as he unlaced them, sighing in relief as the pressure on my ribs and breasts slowly diminished. “Tell me, do females do it on purpose to aggravate their partners?” Henrik trailed his teeth over the curve of my neck and then nipped at it, the pain and pleasure making my toes curl into the wooden floor.

“No,” I breathed, my breath hitching when he flicked his tongue out over the top of my mark. “I’m fairly certain they make them that way to aggravate us.”

Finally I felt the corset loosen all the way and I hummed in relief when the air met my clammy backside. The only thing keeping it up were my hands which trembled as they held it against my chest.

Henrik came back around and didn’t waste another moment to lean forward and lock our lips together. He instantly groaned at the first contact of our tongues and I quickly became victim to his spell just as I had always. My hands went limp and my corset fell, my nipples instantly hardening and burning when they brushed against his chest as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“My female,” Henrik groaned and his hands came to rest under my breasts, his thumbs teasing the underside of them but not moving any higher. His words didn’t sound possessive in the slightest. If anything, it almost sounded like he was reminding and confirming to himself that I was in fact there, that this wasn’t a dream. ”Mine.”

He leaned back and looked at me with half-lidded eyes, his two suns for irises taking in every detail. My hands twitched to cover myself, a natural reaction, but I forced them to stay put and loosely clutch his shoulders.

There was a moment of silence. And then another.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finally said with a smile just as I was beginning to grow nervous, making me blush and relax into his hold.

I’d always been so self conscious about the small, stubborn layer of fat that began below my belly button and trailed all the way around my sides as well as the white stretch marks that lined the inside of my thighs. My breasts weren’t the perkiest either and if I really thought about it, I could probably list hundreds of other insecurities I found in my appearance. But as I stood there, only in my underwear, I’d never felt so accepted or free. I felt powerful.

“You’re pretty too,” I cooed and he growled playfully, leaning down, running his stiffened tongue over my mark, and making my laughter morph into a gasp of pleasure.

My mouth hung open, heavy puffs of breath leaving my parted lips as he reached up and cupped my breasts, his hands so large he could fit all of them in just his palms. I whimpered when he pinched the top of one roughly, feeling it instantly make the area between my legs throb.

“Is that okay?” he leaned back to ask, his words guttural.

“Yes,” I moaned, not caring how needy I sounded.

“Harder or softer? Slower or faster? C’mon, Raena,” he growled, his breath fanning my neck as he trailed his lips over my collarbone. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want.” I gasped when he pinched down on both my hardened nubs at the same time and I arched into him, feeling his growing erection press firmly against my stomach. “You.” I threw my head back, my body arching into him. “That’s all I want.”

He stopped and I whimpered, furrowing my eyebrows in aggravation.

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“Say it.” He gripped my chin and I saw the desperation in his eyes—a vulnerability he usually kept hidden by an indestructible mask he’d perfected through centuries of war and loss. A mask he would only lower for me.

“I want you, Henrik,” I told him desperately and truthfully, my eyes never once leaving his. “Only you.”

I could barely get the last word out before his lips crashed back down on my own and without speaking, his hands trailed over my rear and to my thighs, gripping them and lifting me up so my legs wrapped around his warm and solid torso. The ease in the action and display of his strength caused my core to pulse in the sync with my mark, my hips rolling into his body in a primal search of relief.

His body swayed with each quick step he took as he began walking and I didn’t need to use my eyes to know his destination. The thought of it only made me kiss him harder, scrapping the top of his mouth with my tongue, and I swallowed his groan.

My back met the bed, my head angled quite awkwardly on the pile of pillows but we were both to consumed by each other to care.

Henrik leaned back onto his one elbow, his hand slowly skimming down the valley between my breast, past my stomach, and to the elastic band of my underwear, tracing it with a deliberate softness. “May I?”

I bit my tender lip, knowing full well that if I told him ‘no’ in that moment, with both of us half naked and sprawled out on his bed, that everything would come to an immediate stop. That if there was even a hint of a doubt or discomfort in my response, he would walk away without an argument.

And I adored him for it.

“Yes, husband,” I finally said after a slight pause, giving in to what we both wanted.

His hand disappeared underneath the lace material and I was gone at the first soft stroke of his knuckles on a bundle of nerves I had never realized were there before. I gave a choked sound and dug my heels into the mattress. Noting my reaction, he pressed down harder with his fingers and readjusted himself on his elbow into a more comfortable position before he kept going while watching my face.

“Is that it?” Henrik asked, searching my eyes.

I had no idea what he was talking about and I couldn’t find any words in my mind at that moment so I nodded, gritting my teeth together as I tried to contain all the sounds bubbling in my lungs. He started moving his hand faster, increasing the already unbearable pleasure into something almost excruciating. Every once and a while he’d stop and give a tantalizing flick with his forefinger that sent me reeling.

Then I felt it—so sudden and unexpected that it practically startled me. My body seized up, my back arching as I was met with a dark sky full of stars, my mouth stretching wide as a drawn out and satisfied moan left it. My whole body shuddered violently as wave upon wave of pleasure slammed into my very being. It was almost too much and my fingers gripped onto the pillow behind my head, trying to find some sort of anchor to bring me back to reality.

Henrik groaned, his breath almost as heavy as mine as he watched me.

“Holy shit,” I wheezed, trying to catch my breath and failing.

Before I could though, I registered that Henrik had somehow maneuvered himself down the bed during my moment of bliss so his knees were situated on either side of my own. He hastily pulled my underwear down my twitching legs and tossed them behind his shoulder to join the rest of our clothes on the floor. I shuddered as the cool air met my folds. Henrik gripped the underside of my thighs and forced them apart, eliciting an embarrassed and quite girlish shriek from deep within my chest.

Callie had been dreadfully wrong about the wax not hurting and I had wondered if perhaps it’d been a form of torture before it became a beauty routine for some. But I hoped that she was at least right about Henrik appreciating my hairless state, so I watched his face closely, my own feeling as if it would burst into flames from embarrassment.

He groaned, his eyes fluttering with desire and his breath quickening as he stared down at what he’d been desiring for months. Again, a rush of cool relief ran down my spine and my muscles eased a bit but still remained alert of his every action. Swiftly, he lied on his stomach below me, his hands slipping underneath to rest on each of my butt cheeks as his shoulders pried my thighs further apart to accommodate the width of him.

His eyes flashed undeniably brighter. A flash of pink was spotted when his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked and propped my upper body onto my elbows, my voice shaking with adrenaline and my body jerking restlessly.

“In all honesty, I have no idea,” Henrik forced out, his voice sounding raw as his desire took over.

Suddenly, I couldn’t see his face anymore as it darted between my legs and his hot breath fanned against my opening. My muscles tensed at the unusual sensation and I felt about ready to bolt for the door.

“What—” At the first stroke of his tongue, I went silent, my eyes widening as my legs instinctively clamped around his head and my nails dug into the comforter. Henrik gave a satisfied grunt and did it again and again and again, lifting my rear up with his hands to give him a better angle. “Oh gods,” I cried and only screamed louder when he continued, my hands scrambling downward to fist his hair and pull him impossibly closer.

He was eating me like he hadn’t feasted in days, a greedy man trapped in the desert who’d just had his first taste of water. Henrik growled and the vibrations had my eyes nearly into the back of my head. My hips rolled to meet his movements only to be pinned down by one of his hands, his fingers splaying across my stomach.

Over and over again, he flicked his tongue and scrapped his teeth just where I needed him until finally a particular long and quite lazy grind of his tongue paired with the vibrations of his growls had me falling apart a second time, my head tossing back into the pile of pillows. My muscles were too consumed by pleasure to know how to do anything else but tremble for the male beneath me.

There was a pause of silence and I gave a jolt when Henrik suddenly nipped the inside of my thigh, his canines leaving behind a small, stinging wound. My one hand came up to my forehead which felt like it was doing loops around the planet while the other rested on my stomach, feeling the way it rose and fell with each of my harsh breaths.

“Was that alright?” Henrik asked, looking up from me as he panted.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, licking its corners clean. A gleam of hope shined in eyes, like a little boy desperately trying to make his adult peers happy. I was almost tempted to pat the top of his hair, which looked absolutely ridiculous. Dark strands stood in every direction imaginable from my merciless tugging.

“No, I only orgasmed for fun,” I drawled breathlessly, my mind trapped in a cloud that I never wanted to come down from. My ears rang as blood rushed past them.

Henrik chuckled, crawled up my body, and kissed me softly. I was a bit confused by the taste that covered his lips, feeling a sense of both disgust and desire when it was introduced to my tongue. I tried not to think too much about it. Eventually, I relaxed the more I got comfortable with it and moaned into the kiss, my senses becoming absorbed by the feeling of his rough hands skimming the curve of my waist.

My fingers trailed over his abs, circling each individual bulge of muscle, and down to his underwear which I didn’t hesitate to push down until they got to right above his knees, where I then had to use my feet to get them down the rest of the way.

Henrik kicked them off mindlessly, deepening our kiss and caressing my tongue with his own.

I subtly looked down past his chin and I wasn’t surprised by what I saw, having grown up with two boys and seeing them naked plenty of times, but I was definitely intimidated by the size of him. It was official that every part of him looked like a king and the thought of him trying to fit that angry appendage inside me made me shudder in anticipation.

Apprehensively, I reached down and grabbed him, feeling the velvety weight of him in my palm, and lightly traced the tip of my forefinger over a prominent vein near the base.

Henrik hissed, gripping my wrist on instinct. After he became familiar to my touch, he used his hold on me to guide me up and down, his mouth falling open as he met euphoria. When I had a rhythm, he let go of me to fist the bear fur comforter and his hips instinctively rocked back and forth to meet my pumps, his breathing growing shallower by the second.

“Shite,” he groaned and a list of curse words I’d never heard before followed, some even in different languages, which both impressed and turned me on. They all came out in strings of pained hisses or primal growls, his face already beginning to morph into that beast I’d once feared. But now as I stared up at him, I admired the way his jaw slightly lengthened and the muscles in his arms visibly shifted back and forth, at war between what to do. It was absolutely astounding what his powerful body was capable of.

Feeling more confident, I quickened my pace and kissed him harder, our teeth practically gnashing together until my lips felt bruised.

I gripped his length tighter, wanting him to reveal more of his true, unleashed self to me, and at that, Henrik growled, his hand wrapping around my wrist once again but this time to halt my movements altogether.

My heart leaped in my chest, watching his heaving chest and gritted canines, which looked about ready to crack.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” I asked hurriedly, searching his scrunched up and unreadable face for answers. Immediately, I let go of his shaft and my hand hung limp in his hold.

“No—the opposite actually,” he stated through his teeth, relaxing his hand around me but still kept a firm grip on my wrist as he brought it up to his lips to place a tender kiss where his claws had accidentally broken through the skin. I’d been so caught up with my worry of injuring him that I hadn’t even felt it or noticed the partial shift of his hands. He licked away the small specks of blood and then kissed them, moaning breathlessly as he did so and I shuddered. “May I mate you, Raena?” He leaned down and nipped at my bottom lip before rubbing his cheek against my own, the rumble that came from his chest sounding like a purr. “Please.”

Without speaking, I opened my legs wider, lifted my hips, and felt the tip of him rub against where I needed him the most, knowing full well he could feel just how much I wanted him. He snarled, pressing down on my hip to stop my movements as if they pained him.

Henrik’s eyes stared down almost angrily at me, like a parent scolding a child, and his grip on my hips tightened, the feeling of his claws poking my skin exciting me. It was his way of silently telling me there was no chance of him continuing if he didn’t possess my verbal consent, and I had no doubt he’d remain in that exact position for hours before he ever dared move without hearing it.

“I’m all yours,” I whispered in a way I hoped was seductive, trailing my lips over his smooth jaw and nipped at his chin, ”mate.” That word—a word I’d once hated and spat on—left my lips in a smooth whisper.

Henrik growled and pressed his lips back on mine, reaching down quickly but not at all rushed between our bodies to align himself. At the first nudge of him, I tensed as my walls hurried to accommodate his impressive girth. My mouth swallowed his groan of pleasure and he did the same to my one of discomfort as he began slowly rolling his hips in gentle thrusts into me until finally, what felt like years later, he was seated at the hilt.

He stilled, allowing me to adjust as I winced and wiggled slightly and got used to the strange feeling of being so full. My fingers gripped the hard bulges of his biceps, my nails digging into their scarred flesh. It wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d feared but I still needed a moment to breathe.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned and I could only groan, tightening my legs around his waist. I could feel sweat rolling down the sides of my face while I pinched my eyebrows together, the inside of my cheek throbbing from biting it while he’d been sheathing himself within me. “Tell me, Raena,” he growled, the vibration of the animalistic sound going straight down to where we were joined. I unintentionally moaned, my toes curling painfully. “Are you,” he leaned down and bit my earlobe not-so-gently between his elongated canines, ”underwhelmed?”

My eyes snapped open at that word, glaring at him through the discomfort.

“Fuck you,” I hissed and he smiled wickedly down at me, beads of sweat glistening along his hairline. That and the twitching of his biceps were the only things that gave away how much strength he was mustering to hold himself back from ramming into me.

“Is that a ‘no’ I hear?” he asked while he circled his hips, making me cry out as his pelvis rubbed perfectly against the area that still throbbed from his earlier attention. “Ah, yes, I do believe so.”

“Henrik!” I practically shouted, my internal muscles unintentionally clenching around him.

That single action caused Henrik to growl the second loudest I’d ever heard him and suddenly he pulled back and then pushed back in, the action so slow it was almost unbearable. I was tempted to reach down and force him to go faster but before I had the chance, he grabbed my hands in his and lifted them above my head, pressing them into the pillows and keeping his claws gentle against my palms.

His thrusts were long and timed, with him kissing me gently in between. As we got comfortable, he built up his speed and he started whispering wicked things in my ear, making my walls contract over and over again which I was sure was his exact intention.

Henrik’s eyes glowed as they looked down at me, reminding me of a solar eclipse from how large his pupils were dilated so that only slivers of gold were visible around them. They hypnotized me both body and soul and my heart fluttered with the realization that this male above me was bound to me in more ways than I could ever fathom. In heart, soul, law, and body we belonged to each other. The thought made my eyes burn with an unspoken truth.

“Mine,” he grunted through gritted canines as he met my eyes, quickening his movements even more and making a familiar ball in my stomach expand. A hand reached down and hitched my leg up further so my knee was pressed against the side of his ribcage. “My mate. My female. My queen. Mine.” With each word, his thrusts got harder and faster, pain mixing in with the pleasure to create the most sinful concoction.

Our lips met again but our kisses were sloppy and messy, our noses knocking together from the jolts of Henrik’s thrusts. On a normal occasion, I would’ve found it repulsive but I was too far gone to give a damn.

My hips lifted to meet his own more urgently and my cries grew louder and more desperate. I cursed as yet another intense wave of pleasure washed through me and Henrik slowed, dragging it out as long as he possibly could and taking the opportunity to give me a real, passionate kiss.

But I wasn’t close to done yet. So I decided to utilize what Evander had taught me about distribution of body weight and taking my opponent by surprise, and I swiftly flipped us over with my thighs, making Henrik’s eyes widen up at me with surprise and his nostrils flare. I stilled, unsure of what his reaction meant until I felt him undoubtedly harden even further inside me, his eyes hungrily flashing towards my aching, heavy breasts.

I placed my hands on his chest, scaling every ridge of muscle and scar tissue, and I began slowly moving up and down on his cock. Trying to figure it out as I went and hoping I wasn’t messing it all up, my feet fidgeting little until they got situated and found good grounding. I bit my lip hard, the new angle making him enter even deeper inside me.

Henrik’s eyes zoomed in on the spot where we were joined, growling primitively as he watched himself slip in and out of me, his claws poking against my thighs as he rubbed them.

“Mine,” I panted and Henrik’s eyes snapped up to me, his breathing rugged and shallow as they came out in short pants through swollen lips. I swallowed and my heart felt as if it was about to burst. “You’re mine,” I repeated more firmly and came down especially harder as I got comfortable, increasing the speed of my hips and adding a roll to them as I lowered.

Henrik tossed his head back, letting out the deepest and longest moan towards the gods themselves. ”Yesss,” he hissed and grabbed my hips, his claws and wedding band digging into the skin there as he guided me.

Soon his knees bent to help him thrust his hips upwards to meet me halfway. The new position had us both practically shouting as my hips slammed into his own, both of us no longer caring about being intimate or loving but rather seeking the carnal pleasure we both craved.

A loud boom, like the strike of a drum, from outside had me halting momentarily and my head snapped to the windows, whose curtains were wide open. Because of how high up we were, the angle his bedroom windows faced, and the many balconies below, we never had to worry about anybody seeing us.

“What was that?” I breathed and caught a flash of red and Henrik kept moving, circling his hips and thrusting upwards.

I shuddered and gasped at the same time, my nails digging into his chest further. My response only seemed to encourage him to go faster. So he did.

There was a high-pitched whistle and I watched in awe as a flash of yellow darted into the sky, illuminated the outline of trees for only a second, and then burst into what looked like thousands of tiny blue flames.

“Fireworks,” he stated hoarsely, his voice in between man and beast. “In celebration of your,” he hissed through gritted teeth, ”coronation.” The last word was a struggle to bite out as I finally lifted myself and sunk back down onto him.

Fireworks later, I decided.

Henrik’s face twisted with pleasure and I watched him closely, feeling every rumble of his chest against my palms, as his movements became rushed and almost sloppy. His hands were all over me, exploring every curve until his middle finger found that spot again between my legs. I cried into his ceiling as my movements became desperate.

It was only a few moments later when Henrik gave out a particularly loud snarl amongst the clamors and shrieks of fireworks. His claws sunk into my hips and drew drops of blood as he quite literally exploded inside me, the heat of him filling me to the brim as his whole body stiffened underneath me.

With that, I felt a chord deep within me snap into place and I felt his pleasure as if it were my own. I quite literally fell apart, my whole body quivering violently. Strength left my body and I collapsed on top of him, heaving and gasping to catch my breath as Henrik continued to jerk himself inside me, his own arms shaking.

Once we both stilled, Henrik pecked my drenched forehead before lifting me from under my armpit. We both simultaneously groaned when his still very stiff manhood slipped out of me.

Henrik jumped off the bed and sauntered to the bathroom, myself blushing at the sight of his naked backside. He came back with a white washcloth that he’d ran under warm water and unashamedly wiped it over every area between my thighs. He made sure I was completely clean before he draped it over the footrest, both of us fully aware that our night together had just begun.

He crawled back on the bed and pulled me to his chest, letting out a content purr. Our bodies still were hot and sticky from our lovemaking so we simply stayed on top of the covers, our limbs perfectly intertwined. He placed a kiss on my hair as I began tracing the scars on his arms, as I had many nights before, my breaths beginning to even as I listened to the fireworks from behind me.

As we laid there, my aching body and hazed brain halfway close to sleep, my stomach gave a loud growl that I was sure King Caspolean could hear from his palace in Chrytolio. To that, I said jokingly, “I think I’m ready to eat now.”

Although I laughed, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, my cheeks burning. Way to ruin the mood, I thought.

My husband chuckled but the sound trailed off as he began outlining my lips with his fingers and slowly trailed them up to my cheekbone. He stopped, suddenly he looking very somber. Almost sad.

“What is it?” I asked, propping my head on my elbow. My heart ached as if his emotions were my own, realizing that was probably because that’s exactly what was happening.

Ingrid had explained to me how after we mated, slowly our souls would start stitching together and it would take a while for us to get used to and understand what each other’s tells were. It was like adding another limb to our bodies but in this instance it was an addition to our brains and souls. It would take time for this new bond to not only strengthen but become fully functional without errors. It’d taken her and Furkan nearly two years before they stopped starting arguments simply because they were frustrated and couldn’t tell whose emotions were whose.

But I hadn’t expected it to be so fast or overwhelming, feeling a new presence already begin to sprout in the back of my mind.

“Raena, I...” he trailed off and swallowed thickly, sighing as he looked away. “It’s nothing.” I gave him a look, silently showing how I didn’t believe him, that the new and ever growing bond between us wouldn’t let me. “I was just thinking about how Lord Zayev from Lyro is unsure of how to go about punishing a few people refusing to pay the new taxes and he’s asked for my intervention.” Suddenly, I couldn’t feel his emotions anymore. I knew Henrik was skilled with communicating with people through their minds and I hated how he was already using his ability to intentionally block me out. “I’ll make you a plate.”

He slid out of the bed and walked over to the table. My eyes trailed over his muscles, scars, and tattoos appreciatively.

I sighed and looked up at the smirking faerie overhead, thinking back to my mother’s warning. My hands skimmed over my shoulders, to the location where the scabs from her nails piercing my skin had fallen off long ago.

Spirits visiting the living was not an unheard of phenomenon but still considered rare. People who conversed with them regularly were known as Seers, beings who could slip past the veil that split the physical and spirit realms from each other. A part of me wondered if perhaps my father’s family possessed such a gift. It was unusual for me to think about him, only knowing he’d abandoned my mother and I long before I gained the opportunity to remember anything about him. But the first spark of curiosity began inside me, wondering if my father could’ve been of magical origin.

I looked over at Henrik, watching the tense muscles in his back as he piled macarons onto my plate. I didn’t need the bond to know he was thinking of something unpleasant.

He’s my husband and my soulmate, I reminded myself, turning my face to the windows where I watched the multicolored fireworks light up the sky. He’s done nothing but show me that I can trust him.

But I should’ve known better.