"Kaan," she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair hard enough to hurt. "Please, I'm so close?—"
I seal my lips around that swollen bundle of nerves and suck hard.
She shatters beautifully.
Her light magic explodes outward, searing my shadows, marking my skin with golden burns that will take days to heal. I work her through the aftershocks until she's trembling, hypersensitive, trying weakly to push my head away.
Only then do I crawl back up her body, my face is inches from hers. .
"Still hate me?" I murmur against her lips.
"Always." But her arms come around my neck, pulling me closer.
“Good, then turn around, I’m going to take you from behind,” I order and I’m surprised how easily she obeys me. When she bends over I know I won’t last long. Fuck, she’s dripping for me and I cannot wait any longer, so I nudge my cock to her entrance.
Nesilhan gasps and whimpers.
“Just fuck me already Kaan!”
The first press inside is everything. Tight and wet and perfect, her body welcoming me home even as her mind screamsrejection. I bury myself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, and we both groan at the sensation.
"Move," she demands. "Don't make this tender. Just fuck me."
"As my lady commands."
I set a punishing pace, driving into her with enough force to make the bed frame groan in protest. My shadows pin her wrists to the hardboard, and she arches into the restraint like she was made for it.
Through our fractured bond, I feel her building toward another orgasm. Feel the pressure coiling low in her belly, the tension winding tighter with each thrust.
And I'm close. So fucking close.
The pressure at the base of my spine promises obliteration. Promises a few seconds where I won't have to think about dead children and impossible choices and a wife who looks at me like I'm her personal demon.
"Nesilhan," I gasp. "I'm going to?—"
"Do it," she pants. "Come inside me."
I'm right there. Right on the fucking edge. One more thrust and I'll?—
She wrenches herself away.
The sudden absence of her body is shocking. Disorienting. I reach for her instinctively, but she's already sliding off the bed, putting distance between us with savage certainty as this has been her plan all along.
"Nesilhan, what?—"
Her palm connects with my face with enough force to snap my head sideways. The crack of flesh on flesh reverberates through the chamber—not loud, but final. Absolute. The kind of sound that marks the end of something that can never be repaired.
My cheek burns. My ears ring. But it's not the physical pain that steals my breath.
It's the look in her eyes when I turn back to her.
Cold. Pitiless. Finished.
She's standing naked and furious, her chest heaving, golden light crackling around her clenched fists like she's barely restraining herself from doing worse.
"Remember," she says, and the words come out like a wound reopening, "when I told you I forgave you for saving me instead of our child?"
I nod.
