Her breathing quickens, small moans escaping parted lips. I increase my pace, determined to push her over the edge before she fully wakes. My cock throbs against the sheets, desperate for relief, but I ignore it. This is about power, about ownership.
"Come for me," I growl against her. "Give me what's mine."
I thrust a third finger inside her, stretching her, filling her, my tongue flicking faster over her clit. Her inner walls begin to pulse, tightening around my fingers. A shadow tendril slides across her throat—over my mating mark—applying just enough pressure to heighten her pleasure without waking her.
Her thighs tremble, internal muscles clamping down as pleasure overtakes her. Her eyes fly open at the moment of climax, confusion transforming instantly to ecstasy as she realizes what's happening.
"Good morning," I murmur against her inner thigh, pressing a bite there that makes her gasp. "Sleep well?"
She stares down at me, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. "Did you just make me come in my sleep?" she manages. "That's scandalous, Malakai."
"I am a man of many talents." I crawl up her body, positioning myself above her. My cock throbs painfully, desperate to be inside her, but I hold back, savoring the moment. "Did I have your consent to take such liberties while you slept?"
"As if you've ever asked for consent," she replies, though there's no venom in her words, only a breathless challenge.
"Perhaps I'm turning over a new leaf," I suggest, grinding against her without entering. "Perhaps I want to hear you say it."
Her golden eyes darken with renewed desire. "Yes," she whispers, arms sliding around my neck. "Always yes."
The admission sends fire racing through my veins. I capture her mouth in a hungry kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue as I finally thrust inside her. She's slick and tight, still sensitive from her orgasm, and the sensation is exquisite.
I establish a punishing rhythm, driven by some desperate need I can't fully understand. Each thrust feels like reclaiming territory, like securing what's mine against threats I can't yet name. My shadows wrap around us both, cocooning us in darkness that pulses with each movement.
"Mine," I growl against her neck—against my mating mark. "Say it, Seraphina. Say you're mine."
"Yours," she gasps, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood. "And you're mine."
My heart starts beating faster. Her eyes meet mine, steady and certain, as if she's claimed a victory I didn't know we were fighting for. Before I can respond, a knock sounds at the door.
"Ignore it," I command, resuming my relentless pace. I'm close, so close, and nothing is more important than finishing what we've started.
"My lord." Emmett's voice, pitched low but insistent. "The Council requests your presence. Immediately."
My shadows lash out, cracking the mirror across the room. Seraphina's eyes widen, but she doesn't flinch; she never flinches anymore, a fact that both pleases and unnerves me.
"Duty calls," I snarl, driving into her one final time before withdrawing, leaving us both unsatisfied.
"To be continued," she promises, a wicked smile curving her lips.
I dress quickly, my shadows clothing me in formal Council attire. As I reach the door, I pause, glancing back at her. She's stretched like a cat on my bed, unashamed of her nakedness, watching me with those golden eyes that see far too much.
"The eastern gardens," I say, the words emerging before I can reconsider. "There will be children there today—orphans from the border villages. Perhaps you'd like to visit them."
Her expression softens into genuine surprise. "Children? Here?"
"The orphanage matrons bring them monthly for fresh air." Not for my company, I don't add. The children fear me, as they should. As everyone should. Except her.
"I'd like that," she says softly.
I nod once, then step into the corridor where Emmett waits, his expression carefully neutral despite what he must have heard through the door.
"The Council grows impatient," he informs me as we stride through the palace.
"When are they not?" I reply. "What's the crisis this time?"
"No crisis, precisely," Emmett says, his voice dropping. "But there are concerns. About Lady Seraphina."
My steps falter. "Explain."
