Chapter 133: Chapter 134: Quickening

Elara’s pov

Still trying to give orders, Your Majesty?” he murmured, but the heat in his gaze belied the teasing tone. He reached the edge of the bed where I sat, his legs brushing against my knees. “But if we’re doing this, if we’re truly sealing this… I don’t want the queen. I want my wife.”

He didn’t give me time to respond. His hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back, and his mouth claimed mine. It wasn’t the gentle, chaste kiss from the altar. This was a ravaging. His lips were demanding, his tongue thrusting deep, tasting me, owning me.

I moaned into his mouth, my hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic was rough against my palms, an irritation I couldn’t stand. I tugged at the laces, needing to feel his skin, needing the barrier gone. He understood immediately. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the heavy tunic over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Then his hands were on me, urgent and possessive.

The wedding dress, simple as it was, was still too many layers between us. He made a low, impatient sound in his throat, his hands gripping the fabric at my waist. With a sharp tug that spoke of his barely leashed strength, the gown gave way, the tear of silk loud in the quiet room. I gasped, but the sound was swallowed by his mouth as he kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. He pushed the ruined material down my shoulders, baring my skin to the cool air and his burning gaze. I shivered, not from cold, but from the sheer intensity of the look he gave me. His eyes traced the heavy swell of my breasts, dark and tight with arousal, then down to the gentle curve of my stomach, resting possessively there for a heartbeat before continuing lower.

“Kaelen,” I breathed, my back arching instinctively as his palms skimmed over my ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “Please.”

“Please what?” he growled, lowering his head to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat. He nipped at the sensitive pulse point there, soothing the sting with his tongue, sending sparks of electricity shooting down my spine. “Tell me what you need, Elara. Tell me exactly where you want me.”

His hands weren’t waiting for an answer. He cupped the heavy weight of my breasts, his palms rough and hot against my sensitive skin, his thumbs dragging over the tight, aching nipples until I cried out. The sensation was electric, shooting straight down to the ache between my thighs. “So responsive,” he groaned, his voice dropping an octave, dark with lust. “And these… they’re perfect.” He lowered his head, his breath ghosting over the wet peak before his mouth latched on, sucking hard. The pressure was exquisite, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain that made my hips lift off the bed, a desperate moan tearing from my throat. He didn’t stop there. He bit down gently, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud while his tongue soothed the sting, alternating between the two until I was writhing, my hands fisting in his hair to hold him there, needing more, needing everything.

He released my breasts with a wet pop, leaving them glistening and throbbing in the cool air, but his mouth didn’t stop its descent. He kissed a path down the center of my chest, lingering over the swell of my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel in a tease that made my muscles flutter. Then he moved lower, his hands gripping my thighs, pushing them apart with a force that brooked no argument. He settled his broad shoulders between my legs, the position dominant and utterly exposing. I could feel the heat of his breath against my soaked folds, and I whimpered, my head falling back against the pillows, my eyes squeezing shut as I waited for the first touch. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough. “Watch what I do to you.”

I forced my eyes open, my gaze locking with his as he lowered his head. The first swipe of his tongue was devastating. He dragged it slowly from my entrance up to my clit, collecting my arousal, his eyes never leaving mine. He groaned at the taste, the sound vibrating against my skin, and then he buried his face. He didn’t hold back. He devoured me, his tongue spearing into my entrance, fucking me with the same relentless rhythm he used with his cock, while his nose rubbed against my clit. He was messy and loud and utterly unashamed, eating me out like a starving man. He sucked my folds into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure racing up my spine. “Kaelen, please,” I gasped, my hips bucking against his face, riding the wave of sensation. “It’s too much.”

“Too much?” he rasped, a dark challenge in his tone. “You can take it. You were made for me.”

He shifted his attention solely to my clit, exposing the swollen, desperate bundle of nerves from beneath its hood. He sealed his lips around it and sucked hard, a relentless pressure that made my vision blur, while his tongue fluttered rapidly over the tip. The sensation was sharp, electric, and overwhelmingly intense. I cried out, my back bowing off the mattress as the pleasure spiked to a nearly painful height. Just as I thought I couldn’t withstand another second of that focused torture, he slid two fingers deep inside my dripping channel. He curled them upward, finding that rough, sensitive patch inside me with unerring accuracy, and began to stroke it in a ’come here’ motion, timing the thrusts of his fingers with the ruthless suction of his mouth. I was being attacked from both sides, the internal pressure mirroring the external, and it shattered me.

My orgasm tore through me with the force of a tidal wave..

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