Chapter 45: Chapter 46: Guttural groan

Elara’s pov

I bit down on the muscle of his shoulder, the taste of salt and leather filling my mouth as I fought to contain the cries clawing up my throat.

He was relentless, a piston driving into me with a force that shook the heavy bed frame.

The friction was blinding, a perfect, burning storm centered in my core and radiating out to my fingertips and toes.

“Good girl,” he gritted out, the strain in his voice evident. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Take it. Take all of me.”

He shifted his hips, changing the angle, and drove into me again. This time, the head of his cock dragged against that sensitive spot deep inside, and I saw stars. My eyes rolled back, and my entire body convulsed around him. It was too much; it was exactly enough. The pain of the stretch had melted into a heavy, throbbing pleasure that bordered on agony.

“That’s it,” he groaned, the sound vibrating against my lips as he sensed my body yielding to his, accepting the rough rhythm he set.

“Let go. Let me burn it all away.”

And he did. With every harsh, driving thrust

He wiped the smirk off Thorin’s face with the force of his body inside mine. The smell of leather and sweat and the raw, copper tang of sex

replaced the cloying scent of politics.

The pain of the stretch morphed into a blinding heat that consumed me, a wildfire that burned from the center of my chest out to my fingertips.

I couldn’t stay still. My nails raked down his back, surely drawing blood, wanting to mark him as he was marking me. I hooked my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his ass and pulling him deeper, silently demanding more. Harder. Faster.

His rhythm was punishing, a desperate, jagged movement that matched the hammering of my own heart. The heavy oak bed frame slammed against the wall with every thrust.

I clung to him, my fingers digging into the sweat-slick muscles of his shoulders, needing an anchor in the storm he had unleashed.

“You feel that?” he growled against the sweat-dampened skin of my throat. His teeth grazed my pulse point, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. “That is real. This is real. Not his words. Not his promises, just this.”

“Just this,” I sobbed, the agreement torn from me as he drove deep, hitting a spot that made white light explode behind my eyelids.

The stretch was intense, a burning ache that bordered on too much, but it was grounding. It forced me out of my head, out of the endless spiral of political maneuvering and

suffocating protocols, and into the raw, immediate reality of my body.

The silence of the room was broken only by the ragged sound of our breathing and the wet, slapping rhythm of our bodies coming together. It was a raw, obscene sound that should have shocked me, but instead, it fed the hunger burning in my blood. I was lost, adrift in a sea of sensation, clinging to Kaelen like he was the only solid thing in a world tilting on its axis.

He shifted his weight, pulling back almost to the point of leaving me empty before driving forward with a guttural groan that vibrated against my chest. The angle was different this time, deeper, hitting a place inside me that made my vision blur and my toes curl. I couldn’t hold back the cry that tore from my throat, a broken, desperate sound that I quickly muffled by burying my face in the crook of his neck.

“Kaelen,” I gasped, his name a prayer on my lips. “Harder. Please.”

The words barely left my lips before he granted the demand. He abandoned any pretense of restraint, his control snapping like a frayed wire.

The pace he set was brutal, a relentless, driving rhythm that turned the bed into a ship tossed in a violent storm.

The headboard slammed against the wall with a rhythmic wooden thud, a frantic percussion that underscored the gasps tearing from my throat.

He grabbed my hands, dragging them from his shoulders and pinning them to the pillow above my head in a vise-like grip. It forced my body to bow beneath him, leaving me completely open, completely at his mercy.

The position stretched me tight, and when he drove into me again, the angle was devastating.

“You think he could handle you?” Kaelen snarled, releasing my wrists only to grab my hips, his fingers bruisingly tight against my skin. He yanked me down onto him as he thrust forward, impaling me so deep I saw a flash of white. “You think he knows what to do with this?”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t speak. The only sound I could make was a broken, high-pitched keen that tore from my throat with every punishing snap of his hips. My head ground into the pillows, the silk bunching under my sweat-slick shoulders. Thorin’s face, polite, composed, condescending, flashed in my mind, only to be shattered into a thousand pieces by the force of Kaelen driving into me.

“He couldn’t,” I gasped, the admission dragged out of me by the sheer force of him. “He… he wouldn’t know how.”

“Good,” Kaelen growled, the word a dark, possessive rumble against my throat. He didn’t let up. If anything, the admission seemed to snap the last fraying thread of his control. “Because this is mine. This hunger… it belongs to me.”

He shifted again, one arm hooking under my knee and pushing it up toward my chest until I was folded nearly in half. The position was vulnerable, exposing me completely to his gaze and his mercy. I felt like a sacrifice laid out on an altar of silk and desperation, and I reveled in it.

“Look at us,” he commanded, his voice ragged.

His hips snapped forward in a brutal, staccato rhythm that drove the breath from my lungs in sharp, desperate gasps. The angle was devastating, hitting that spot deep inside that made my vision blur and my toes curl against the mattress.

“Elara..I said look,” he demanded, his hand leaving my hip to grip my chin, forcing my face upward.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the haze of pleasure that threatened to pull me under. The sight was carnal. Primal. My body, flushed and glistening with sweat, was folded beneath him, my breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

And above me, Kaelen,.his face twisted in a mask of restrained violence, eyes burning black with a hunger that frightened and thrilled me in equal measure. The guard and the queen, the sword and the scepter,.all lines blurred in the sweat slick between us.

“That’s it,” he growled, releasing my chin only to trail his hand down the column of my throat, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin there. He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was there. The power imbalance had shifted so violently it made my head spin. He wasn’t just a guard anymore, and I certainly wasn’t acting like a queen. We were a man and a woman, raw and unchecked.

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he rasped, his hips snapping forward with a deliberate, grinding roll that made my eyes roll back. “You aren’t going back to that council room. You aren’t going back to him. You’re staying right here, ruined on my cock.”

The word ruined shouldn’t have sounded like a promise, but it did. It sounded like freedom.

The coil in my belly tightened to the breaking point, a winding spring of sheer sensation that demanded release. The wet, slapping sound of skin meeting skin was obscene, a rhythmic clap that echoed off the high ceilings and mixed with my ragged, sobbing breaths.

“Kaelen, I–please,” I choked out, my hands clawing at the sheets, twisting the silk until my knuckles turned white. “It’s too much.”

“No,” he denied harshly, not slowing down, not giving me an inch of mercy. He grabbed my hands, pinning them back to the mattress with one of his, his grip like iron. “It’s not enough. It’s never enough. You’re going to take it all.”

The dark promise in his voice was the catalyst. The coil in my belly snapped, unspooling with a violence that tore a scream from my throat. I thrashed beneath him, my body arching into a rigid bow as the pleasure obliterated everything else.

It was a white-out, a blinding wave that dragged me under, drowning out the council, the kingdom, the crown.

I felt myself clamping down around

him, my body rippling and squeezing in rhythmic convulsions, trying to milk him, to drag him down into the abyss with me. It was a desperate, greedy surrender.

I was adrift in a void of white noise and pulsing heat, my body a vessel that had been shattered and reforged in the span of a heartbeat.

The world narrowed down to the thunder of my heart in my ears and the rhythmic clenching of my inner muscles around the thick invader still buried deep inside me.

Through the haze, I felt Kaelen shudder.

He didn’t stop.

He rode me through it, dragging out the spasms until my body was a limp, quivering wreck, unable to do anything but take the punishment he was doling out.

The oversensitivity set in, a sharp, biting edge to the pleasure that made me gasp and try to squirm away, but there was no escaping him, not when he was chasing his own end.

“The queen,” he gritted out, his rhythm finally faltering, turning into jagged, desperate thrusts. “Falling apart on my cock. Where is your command now, Elara? Where is your crown?”

He wasn’t asking. He was taking.

“Lost,” I gasped, the truth scraping its way out of my raw throat. “It’s on the floor. Just like yours.”

That was all it took.

With a guttural roar I felt a vibration, through my chest, Kaelen’s control finally shattered. He abandoned the rhythm, the precision, the duty. His fingers bruised my hip as he drove into me with one last, brutal thrust, burying himself as deep as he could go.

He groaned my name like it was something torn from him, something wrenched from the very center of his being. His body went rigid above me, every muscle locking tight as he spilled inside me, the heat of him pulsing in thick, relentless waves. It was not gentle. It was not restrained. It was a claiming.

He stayed there, still buried to the hilt, his forehead dropping to mine as his breath came in harsh, uneven pants. I felt him shudder again, smaller tremors chasing the first, his grip on my hip tightening before slowly, slowly easing.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

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