She followed the guttural command, and her fingers gripped the shelf, holding on to it. She bent over, giving him her back. He hovered behind her like a powerful avenging god, widening her legs the way he wanted them and positioning himself. He drove into her in one move. They cried out together. Danika squeezed her eyes shut as pleasure washed over her. His body leaned closer until it covered hers, his breathing harsh, breath hot in her ears.
“Are you okay?” Gently spoken, his voice belied the urgency running in his blood. His hand slid to her hair which fell all over in front of her, and he pushed it all to her left shoulder, leaving the right part of her face bare.
She was full, and it was almost uncomfortable. But the feel of him was incredible. “Y-yes. I’m okay,” she whispered with a nod, grateful that he’d asked.
It was all he wanted to hear. He kissed her bare neck as he pulled back and drove into her again. She let out a throaty moan, her head swiveling to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. His mouth met hers. The kiss was hot and feverish, his dick thrusting into her in quick, steady pumps. The library was filled with their breathing and her soft cries to each stroke that made her eyes see stars. He wasn’t as gentle as he’s always been, but he wasn’t as rough either. His hand left her hips to twerk her nipples, playing with them with each stroke of his body.
She tore her lips from his, a whimper escaping her throat. Heads thrown back, she matched his rhythm. He changed the angle of his thrusts and hit her in that spot inside her that made stars wink in her eyes.
“Ooooh.” Her hands clutched the shelf tight, her body shivering as the pleasant feeling coursed through her body.
Warm air hit her bare back when he pulled away from her, no longer leaning into her. His hand let go of her breasts and returned to her hips where he held her to him. Lucien could no longer hold onto his control. The small control left teetered each of a cliff with each stroke inside her tight wet sheath—with each sweet throaty moan she let out. He lost it.
Sound of skin slapping skin filled the air. His strokes increased in pace, becoming faster and harder. Her pelvis pressed against the shelf; Danika braced herself when it dawned on her that she was no longer in charge anymore. He slammed inside her over and over again like he wanted to bury himself inside her body and never get out. His fingers dug on her hips persistently, holding her tighter and pulling her closer to him.
She bit her lips, knowing that she'd be wearing his mark of possession again for a few days to come. But the slight burning pains that followed his rough coupling did nothing to stop the pleasure. Instead, it was maximized to unbearable degrees.
“Oooh!” The pressure was building up inside her with each thrust of his hips. His breathing changed; his moves were uncontrolled, which told her that he was right there on the edge too.
He pounded her fiercely, guttural groans emitting from it with each thrust. A few more strokes more, and he came with her name on his lips. She followed him a second later, sobbing and panting as the tidal wave threatened to drown her completely. She lost control of her body—of everything. Words flew from her mouth. “I love you; I love you, I love you, love you so much!” The panting sobs were hard to make out, but he heard it clearly, her body trembling so much he realized that she was about to fall.
His hands caught her when she began sliding to the floor, pulling her to him and gently lowering them to the fur-covered floor of the library. The furs protected her skin from the cold and the hardness of the ground. He pushed into her again, not wanting to part yet. A shudder worked itself through her body, and she gasped. He held her from behind while the world tilted around them. His orgasm was explosive, but it was nothing compared to hers.
The panted words reduced to whispers, her hands clutching his, she burrowed deeper into his body, allowing his body to blanket hers from behind.
She felt faint. Lightheaded. Safe.
King Lucien knew the exact moment she fell asleep in his arms. Her lax body so deeply burrowed into his he felt her everywhere. Everywhere settled in silence around him. He was still inside her body and was not planning on pulling out. Instead, he leaned up and took in her face in exhausted sleep. Strands of her hair plastered on her damp forehead, her long lashes lowered, covering her eyes. Her nose so white and pointed, letting out soft, even breathing. Her bow-shaped small lips. So beautiful. He hovered over her, transfixed. Unable to stop staring, his eyes followed the rise and fall of her chest.
So beautiful...and so mine. He didn't refute the thought. Instead, satisfaction coursed through him. His hand settled on the swell of her belly, and he leaned in and kissed her shoulder.
I love you; I love you, I love you, love you so much! The words remained the only voice in his head. Repeatedly, they replayed in his head.
All his demons and their voices abated him the minute he took her into his arms and began undressing her, and they did not return. Just her voice was there.
Movement in his hand pulled his attention back to her belly. His son was moving around visibly. His fingers followed each move. Just like a hide and seek.
His whole world centered completely on the woman sleeping in his arms and his child inside her.
Thoughts of Vetta's betrayal disappeared like the wind. Thoughts of his years in slavery were nowhere near the library.
He fell asleep long after she did, with her panted words ringing in his ears, and his fingers on the last part of her belly where he felt his son move.