"No?" His hand slid down my stomach, fingers trailing through the slickness already gathering between my thighs. I was always wet for him now. Always ready. My body had learned to anticipate his touch like a prayer anticipates its answer. I truly never had any girlfriends to talk to about this stuff because of my status in the Light Court. Other women always kept their distance. "Then I must have imagined you begging me to fuck you harder. Imagine you crying out that you'd do anything if I just made you come again."
I tried to respond, but his fingers had found exactly the right spot, circling with savage intensity, and all that emerged was a whimper. My heartbeat sped up as his shadows wrapped around us like a cocoon.
"That's what I thought." He bit down on my shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and I arched back against him with a moan. I like his slow torture, he knew exactly how to drive me crazy with need for him . "Such a demanding little princess. Always wanting more."
"Hakan—"
He withdrew his hand, and I nearly sobbed at the loss, my light magic flaring. But before I could protest, he'd flipped me onto my stomach, his weight pressing me into the mattress. One hand fisted in my hair, wrenching my head back until my spine curvedinto a painful arch. The other gripped my hip hard enough to leave fresh bruises over yesterday's marks.
"Every morning," he said against my ear, his voice low and dark. His rough voice send the shiver down my spine. I realized I was at his mercy and that just made me wetter, more eager. "Every fucking morning I wake up and you're here. In my bed. Smelling like me. Covered in my marks." His cock pressed against my entrance, thick and nudging my wetness. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I replied, my voice innocent.
Hakan growled with displeasure, lifted my nighty and then slapped me pretty hard. I cried out, feeling the burning sting on my buttocks and panted for air.
“Don’t play coy Ada,” he snapped and then dragged his shadow over the sensitive skin, my whole body was burning and I needed him inside me. Before I could comprehend or say anything Hakan thrust his hard cock into me in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt, and I cried out at the sudden fullness. The stretch burned—he was too big, I was too tight, it was too much—but the pain bloomed into pleasure so quickly I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
He didn't give me time to adjust. Didn't give me time to think. He just started fucking me with a single-minded intensity that bordered on worship, each thrust driving so deep I swore I could feel him in my throat.
"This is mine." His grip tightened in my hair, pulling harder. "This cunt. This body. Every fucking inch of you belongs to me."
"Yes—"
"Say it."
"I belong to you." The words came out broken, scattered between moans. "All of me—yours—only yours?—"
"Fucking right you are."
He shifted his angle, hitting something inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes and my light poured out of my skin, the room started to shine with it as our magic connected once again. I screamed into the pillow, my hands clawing at the sheets, my entire body trembling with the force of what he was doing to me.
"You're going to come for me," he growled, his breathing labored. "You're going to come on my cock like the good girl you are, and then I'm going to fill you up so fucking deep you'll feel me for days."
His free hand snaked beneath me, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and he rubbed mercilessly while he continued his brutal pace. The dual sensation was too much—pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but surrender to the onslaught.
"Come," he ordered. "Now."
My body obeyed before my mind could catch up. The orgasm ripped through me with savage force, tearing a scream from my throat that probably woke half the academy. My inner walls clamped down on him, and I felt him swell even larger inside me, felt his rhythm stutter and break.
"Fuck—Ada?—"
He slammed into me one final time and came with a roar that shook shadows from the walls. I felt the hot pulse of his releaseflooding me, filling me, marking me from the inside just as thoroughly as he'd marked me from the outside.
We collapsed together, both of us breathing hard. His weight pressed me into the mattress, but I didn't want him to move. I wanted to stay exactly like this—pinned beneath him, full of him, surrounded by him—forever.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling me against his chest. His hand stroked down my spine in lazy, possessive patterns.
"I should go see my father," I murmured, though every bone in my body protested the idea of moving.
"Later."
"The healers are giving their morning assessment. I want to hear it myself."
His arm tightened around me. "Then I'm coming with you."
I turned in his arms, meeting those green eyes that could shift from tender to terrifying in the space of a heartbeat. "You don't have to shadow me everywhere, you know."
"I'm not shadowing you. I'm accompanying you." His jaw set in that stubborn line I knew meant arguing was pointless. "There's a difference."
