And then something sparked inside Maeve. A realization washed over her, one she probably should have realized before. It wasn’t just jealousy or possession that drove him in and out of her. It was his own pleasure she was seeing. Pleasure at her body, her skin. Her.
“Are you mine?” She asked.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “In every meaning of the word.”
She relaxed against him. And the pain turned to pleasure. Mal’s hands moved to her waist. As he pushed into her, he pulled her down. He smirked as her pain returned. She grabbed his face and pulled his lips down to hers. Their mouths moved in perfect rhythm, breathing through their noses.
Mal pulled away from her lips and nuzzled into her neck. Maeve’s knees pulled up towards her as his lips worked their way down her chest. His teeth grazed the thin fabric, cupping her breast. He tugged on it until her entire chest was exposed, her satin straps fell off her shoulders.
Her fingers gripped his raven hair as he nipped at her breast. His tongue swirled and teased until she was groaning.
He was suddenly very tight inside her. He pulled from her and rested back on his knees.
His cock was dripping with herself, the veins that ran through it pulsing slightly.
“Turn around.”
She obeyed.
Once her back was to him, he wasted no time slipping back inside of her. The sensation was different, and she felt herself wanting to push back to have more of him.
Heat, tight and pressing, rose up between her legs. She tossed her head back as his smooth hands slid across her spine.
“Mal I-” she started as the pressure built where he slid through her.
It rose and rose, gripping her insides in wet all consuming euphoria. She gasped as that tension slammed and spiraled out of her, releasing in a shaking and uncontrolled way. Maeve cried out helplessly in her release.
“There we go,” he said triumphantly as she orgasmed.
Mal’s hands moved to her hips, pulling her back against him as he thrust forward.
“He thinks he stands a chance,” said Mal, “but if only he could see you now.”
Mal’s hands snaked down her back and tightened around her throat, causing her back to arch downwards. The tighter his grip around her throat grew, the harder he became inside her. The asphyxiation heightened all of her senses.
He thrust in and out of her in a primal way. Maeve lost all ability to hold herself up. Only his grip kept her in position. She felt nothing but his cock buried inside her and the fuzziness in her mind. His grip quickly became so tight that Maeve couldn’t breathe. She clawed at his hands, but there was no moving him.
Just when she felt herself blacking out, Mal felt the biggest so far. Maeve gasped for air as he released her throat.
“Tell me again who you belong to,” commanded Mal.
“You,” gasped Maeve, her voice broken and hoarse, between thrusts. “I belong to you.”
He grew quiet for a moment, inhaling loudly. Then his gasping, whimpering, satisfaction filled the room as he thrust inside of her one final time. His swollen cock pulsed, spilling every drop of himself deep inside her.
The warm feeling of his satisfaction dripping out of her brought her eyes to a close. He slipped out of her.
The first time, she didn’t think about much. Mal had been soft, and most of her mind was occupied with worrying about him. But now, she was invigorated by the idea that she could make him do that. That she could bring him over the edge and that a part of his body had been given to her.
Mal stood beside the bed with long breaths. Maeve turned to face him. He took her chin in his hand.
“I will kill him if he ever touches you,” said Mal, his voice hummed between pants. “I don’t care if it means the Elven Queen never opens her borders again. I’ll do it with my bare hands.”
Shadows pulled across his face. She moved to her knees on the edge of the mattress and traced her fingers down his chest, along the toned lines of his slender frame.
“And what of Alphard?”
Mal dropped his hand. “I told you that was yours to fight. Ensure it’s done.”
