He loosened his hold on her breast, but he still had no control. He only slowed his strokes, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He pressed his sweaty head to the side of her face. “Danika?” he breathed for the first time.
Relief was like a river flowing inside Danika. She didn’t stop touching him or caressing his hair. Running her hand up and down his hipbone, she whispered, “My king.”
“I… can’t… stop…” His deep groan vibrated her ear. “I need you.”
Danika closed her eyes, and those three words washed over her. It was the first time he had ever said those words to her. He didn’t tell her he wanted her. He needed her.
Suddenly, a rush of power and love filled her and made her swell with it. This man who she loved so deeply; this man who was so powerful, who had needed nobody, needed her.
Her head rolled back to his chest, and her fingers held on to his hip and the back of his head. Her love for him was so pure and deep, she gave herself completely to him.
“Then take me. Take anything you want. Take everything you need,” she whispered hoarsely.
A deep shudder worked through his body. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply, causing her to shiver.
“Danika?” He sounded unsure. His deep voice was barely a hot breath to her neck.
His hand left her breast and held her belly, pressing her closer to him. He ran his hand up and down her smooth, flat abdomen, his breath puffing out hotly on her shoulder. Even without his awareness, he held their child in his grasp.
“It’s okay. It’s alright. I’m right here. With you. For you. It’s okay. I’m not going away. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. It’s okay.” Those whispered words spilled from her lips unrestrained. She did not know where her consent—her words—would take them, but none of that mattered to her anymore.
Not minding how tightly he held her, how savage his thrusts were, she knew that she’d wear his bruises for days to come, but she kept her body molded to him and held on tightly to him.
He pulled out of her then and turned her around. She faced him, and he closed in on her. She wrapped her arms trustingly around his neck. He lifted her and wrapped her legs around him. He plunged back in, his thick dick pressed deeper, and his body smothered hers.
He thrust once, gritting his teeth. “I can’t be slow. Don’t ask me to be slow.”
Danika nodded, stroking his back, thrilling with fear and want. And a deep need to soothe. “Take me however you need.” As she uttered those words, she closed her eyes and prayed to the Creator to protect her child—their child nestled inside her.
In that moment, all her fierce protectiveness rounded and centered on the father of her baby. She left the rest to the Creator—or whoever up there that was listening to her prayer. Whoever up there saw the impossibility of her situation. That saw how much she loved this man who held her body to his.
This man—who seemed to battle what another man would never have survived—became her chief priority.
.
.
.
His body slammed into her once, twice. He switched from barely human back to animal. He let go of everything.
His hips pulled back before colliding with hers with a ferocity that echoed in her heart. Everything about him switched to possessive greed.
His face shut down. Lips pursed. Sweat beaded.
“Danika,” he growled, driving into her. He repeated her name like it was a lifeline and he was hanging on to it. Like he needed the reminder that she helped him to hold on to sanity.
Every stroke of his phallus claimed ownership, and she closed her eyes and let him steal her away. Nothing else existed but him inside her and his hard heat surrounding her. She locked her legs tighter, pulling him achingly deep. He bumped her cervix, and she yelped.
Her eyes watered. The pain was out of the world. She pulled back immediately and dislodged him a bit. His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking, biting. Sparks of gold and silver whizzed in her blood, intoxicating her—making her body come alive in his arms.
“Yes. Take me,” she panted as King Lucien drove violently into her. Every thrust he lost himself until she didn’t know which man she held in her arms—her master or her king.
Her buttocks rammed on the wall as he took everything she had to offer. He was right. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was dirty and cruel and broken. But she took it all.
His hands landed on her hips, holding her in place as he increased his rhythm. His face twisted until he looked furiously angry. Her heart no longer beat—it hummed like a hummingbird as every thrust unlocked a power deep inside her. A power over that man. Over her fate. Over her sadness and happiness and future.
“Danika,” he kept repeating.
Love swelled like a typhoon in her chest, strengthening, growing until it filled every space and cavity. She visualized love protecting the new life inside her—spreading to King Lucien and healing him. It kept growing until her body had no more space and it exploded out of her, showering them both with emotion.
“I—I can’t stop.” He reared back, his face shiny with sweat. “I’m hurting you.” His eyes were wild, skin ashen. “Make me stop. Make me to stop.” His teeth gritted as he drove particularly hard into her.
As if she ever could. Her feelings for him were stark in her eyes. Their child nestled between them.
She was so close to falling over the precipice of a release she felt was profound.
This was between her and him.
Life and death.
Possession and ownership.
She threw her head back. “You’re not hurting me. I…”I love you; I love you, I’m pregnant for you, I’m carrying your child, I love you, I love you so much! “I trust you.”
He groaned, increasing his rhythm until she felt sure she’d snap in two. His guttural moan vibrated through his chest as the first ripple of need traveled down his dick, massaging her with the fierceness of his impending orgasm. Her body clenched, tightened, and wound, taking her out of that stratosphere and placing her on a shooting star—a comet where everything was happy and perfect and there was no tragedy or sadness. No memories. No slavery. No pain.
Grief tried to steal her from his embrace, and she clamped her eyes shut, focusing only on his heat and vitality.
Danika wrapped her arms around his shoulders, dragging him close against her. He moaned as his entire body went bow-string tight. He pulled her away from the wall, lowered them to the floor, and landed on top of her. His hands went to either side of her head, his hips positioned as she held on, never letting him go. Their breathing mingled, panting out of control.
Every stroke was delicious; every motion sent her higher up the mountain of claiming the most incredible orgasm of her life. She relished in the fierceness of him, the absolute ownership of his body on top of her.
Full body contact. Something completely new.
She loved hugging him.
She loved being blanketed by him.
The first spindle and body-shivering band of her release teetered just out of reach. Danika’s dug nails into his ass, curving into him, meeting his every thrust. He cried out with all the torture in the world—lost in whatever mind-warp he suffered.