Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

I hear him shouting for me in the corridors. Whether by instinct or insanity, I keep my knife hidden under my pillow, my fingers wrapped around the gilded handle.

The door slams open and my heart leaps into my throat. My husband's breathing is ragged and his footsteps heavy as he stumbles into the wedding chamber.

Several moments pass before he moves or speaks. All the while, I think I'm about to choke on my own heart as it thrashes in my throat.

"Mist?"

I keep my eyes closed despite my instincts telling me to open them. Never turn your back on a predator. Which is what I'm doing right now. However, the silence that follows is far more terrifying than any sarcastic remark he could make. He knows that I'm pretending to sleep. I can just sense that he knows, and he's probably looking down at me with a smirk on his face.

I grip my knife tighter.

I know what is expected of me on the wedding night and, as king, Erax too. The consummation is something neither of us can avoid. But that doesn't mean I can't fight it.

Erax moves over to the side of the bed. Through the barest slit of my eyes, I can see he's half naked and that his trousers are loose, his belt hanging open at his hips. Again, he doesn't move or speak. He doesn't even touch me. He just watches me, as if debating with himself. Every inch of my body flares under his close scrutiny. This is it. This is the moment I've dreaded more than any other.

In my fear, I clench my eyes, completely forgetting I'm pretending to be asleep. Erax takes a step, and I hold my breath, waiting for the moment he throws himself on me. The moment doesn't come. Much to my own surprise, and instant relief, he moves away and collapses none too quietly on the chaise lounge near the foot of the bed.

I let several minutes pass before braving a glance at him to confirm. His tall, muscular body practically swallows up the chaise. His arms and legs hang over the sides as the moonlight bleeds over him from the balcony doors. His breathing is loud, almost like he's fallen asleep. I press up onto an elbow to get a better look of him. Snoring lightly, his head rests to the side which causes dark, dishevelled hair to fall over his eyes. He is sleeping.

A surprised laugh quietly leaves me as I stare at him. I don't know what's worse. The fact he didn't wake me up or the fact my husband has fallen asleep on our wedding night, as if I'm not worth the air he breathes let alone consummating our marriage. Why am I even madding about that?

I've dreaded this moment— dreaded it —since I was a young girl. I should feel relieved instead of rejected. And that hurts. It really, really hurts. Because to be rejected by someone you love is one thing. But to be rejected by your enemy? That's another thing altogether, and something about it just hits harder. It stings.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed. Removing my knife from under the pillow, I tiptoe over to him. My bare feet are nearly silent as they pad against the dark wooden floor towards my target. As I hang over his sleeping body, the knife clenched in my hand, the sharpened blade gleaming in the moonlight, I know there is a part of me that doesn't want to kill him. But this man—this beautiful thief and monster—is the reason for so much of my suffering. He's the reason I will never be free. I will always be bound to him and to a kingdom I wanted no part of.

So long as this man is alive, our destinies will forever be entwined, and it's the other part of me, the part that wants him dead, that knows that would never have happened had he not rained fire upon my world that day.

"Mmm," Erax mutters in his sleep, turning his head to face my own. His eyes remain closed. "Mmm… Mist."

That stupid part of me, the part that doesn't want to kill him. It lowers my arm. He's… dreaming about me?

I hesitate for an instant, only an instant, when his dark lashes suddenly lift, and those piercing eyes cut right through me. In another instant, Erax grabs both of my wrists and pulls me down on top of him, our bodies flush to each other. My grip slides on the knife but I manage to keep a hold of it, angled awkwardly over our heads.

"Second time lucky, darling?"

His breath sweeps over my cheeks, his scent invading my senses.

"This time I won't miss," I snap. "I'll make sure it works."

He sighs. "When will you learn," he says, adjusting his hips, forcing me to slide between his legs, "that you can't kill a dragon rider unless you kill their dragon. We are immortal. I'll never die and that's good because I want to haunt you forever. I'll snap that pretty neck of yours before you ever get the chance."

He squeezes his thighs and I let out a gasp as the muscles in his legs crush me. Not only that, but his member presses against me, and he's hard. The realisation on my face twists into horror.

Erax chuckles. "Alright. I'll give you another shot under one condition."

I glare at him, trying to pull my hand down to hold the knife at his throat. I can't move.

I hiss at him, "What condition?"

"You kiss me," he replies coolly, his eyes intent on me, "and I mean really fucking kiss me, Wife, like you just can't breathe without me. Think you can do that?"

The gleam in his eyes makes me shiver. He can't be serious. He's giving me the chance to kill him again if I kiss him like I mean to? He must still be drunk because he might as well be asking me to pluck the moon from the sky itself. I can't give him a kiss like that. It means I will have given in and surrendered to him. And yet, I let his hands pull me down, forcing our lips to meet, and I know at that moment I'm a goner. He's won. He's completely won.

My knife clatters to the floor as our kiss deepens. He wraps an arm around my waist and holds my throat with his other hand, blocking out any chances of escape. Horrifyingly, I no longer seek a way out. I let my body take over, and I practically melt in his arms, surrendering myself to him not just physically but mentally too. And I hate myself for it.

I hate him for making me this way.

I drag my nails down his bare chest, clawing at his flesh in resentment, and bite his upper lip until his blood dances over my tongue. He groans into my mouth as he assails me with his own tongue, drawing unbidden moans from the depths of my throat. Gods above, I hate him.

I've hated Erax with every ounce of my being since day one.

But I don't kiss him like I hate him. I kiss Erax like he's the air to my lungs without which I would die. I kiss him just like he told me to. And he kisses me back just as eagerly, except there's something different about it.

Something dark, and hungry.

I dig my fingers into his shoulders as he lifts my hips and settles me over his groin. His erection presses against me, and I let out a moan against his lips. Erax devours it, covering my mouth with his own, and I can feel him grower bigger against me. Hungrier. My body shivers and tears leak from the corner of my eyes. I close them and dig my nails deeper into his skin.

"Look at me," Erax whispers.

I shake my head. I'm too afraid to look at him. Afraid I'll give in.

He rests his forehead against mine, his warm breath fanning my flushed cheeks. "As your king, I am commanding my beautiful, stubborn wife to look at me."

I open my eyes, not because he told me to, but because my heart begs me to. Erax searches my gaze and slowly tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. His hand lingers on my cheek, the tip of his thumb catching a tear.

"What do you want from me, Mist?"

"I want to keep hating you," I breathe out, my words trembling.

For a moment he says nothing. He caresses me and looks intensely into my eyes, flicking between them. It's like he's searching for something only I can give him. I hold my breath and the fleeting ray of moonlight that catches his eyes makes them shimmer like emerald glass. They are so beautiful.

"Then hate me," he says, "just don't fucking run from me again, or I'll be the one holding a knife to your throat. Got it?"

He kisses me again, his touch deep and possessive. His words should frighten me; the severity behind them is clear. Yet they only awaken a part of me I had no awareness of until this moment. It's like a deep, primal need that now urges me to surrender my body to him, and to explore his, staking my claim over it. It's this need that frightens me most of all. It frightens me more than anything.

I let the fear pull me away from him. However, Erax is quick to grab hold of my hair and he yanks me down with a quick, painful tug.

"No," he warns.

"Erax…" His name is breathless on my lips, a plea. "Let me go."

He tightens his grip on my hair. "I'm not letting go of my queen for anyone."

"Not even for the gods?" I gasp as he tugs again, snapping my head back.

"Especially not for them. It's you for me ."

Then he pulls me back down again, and reunites our lips in a deep, passionate kiss that literally takes my breath away. It's like he's trying to steal the air out of my very lungs. He keeps his fingers twisted through my hair and his other hand on my hips as he grinds me against him. His tongue spears my mouth, devouring me, and I stop fighting him. I stop running away. In that instance, I no longer want to do either of those things.

I just want to feel, to touch and taste his body.

Claim him , that primal side of me whispers. Claim him like he wants to claim you.

Try as I might, I can no longer deny this bond between us. It's growing stronger every time our lips meet. Every time he looks at me with that hunger in his eyes. Every time he touches me and calls me his . I can't deny our bond, and as he anchors my legs to his waist and lifts me over to the bed, I finally realise that deep down, I don't want to. This is a battle I can longer fight.

A mix between a sob and a moan escapes me as he rests me on a velvet ottoman by the front of the bed. Without taking his eyes off me, he lowers himself to his knees, his eyes coming into level with my own. His hands find purchase on my ankles. Slowly he glides his palms up my legs and my silk green nightgown slides over them. Oh, gods above! My cheeks flush as I recall the ridiculous outfit I'm wearing.

Even though I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, it's still embarrassing to be wearing something so revealing. This stupid nightgown was the only piece of clothing the servants brought with them. Well, that, and the very tight, and very fancy white lace undergarments I'm wearing underneath. I only agreed to them because I figured attempting to kill my new husband naked wasn't my brightest plan of attack.

Erax reaches for the nightgown's many thin lace straps. They cut across each other on the bodice, starting just below the plunging neckline. They're not tight like a corset but still snug enough to look like one, and it felt like forever until the servants were done fastening them. Mostly because the same lace straps run down my arms as well as my chest and back. With a quick glance down at myself, I quickly realise that the most embarrassing factor of all isn't the gown itself.

No. Of course there had to be something more embarrassing.

It's that the white undergarments underneath can be seen even through the nightgown.

Erax doesn't take his eyes off me. He continues to unfasten the laces on my torso and then my back. He only loosens the ones on my arms before he slides the nightgown down my torso, the material puddling at my waist.

I raise my hips, allowing Erax to slide the nightgown off me. He tosses it to the side and a light chill caresses me as he trails his eyes over my body, before he removes my undergarments too. First the bralette, then the underwear, followed by the see-through stockings, which he unrolls slowly off my legs one after the other. His throat jerks and his pupils are dilated when he finally takes me in, now lying naked before him, totally exposed and vulnerable.

"Fuck."

The word startles me. I hug my arms close to my chest. "Fuck?"

"Fuck," Erax repeats, pulling my hands away. "As in, fuck, this beautiful goddess is my wife. Fuck, only I get to see her like this. Fuck, I'll kill any god or mortal who touches or sees my wife's naked body. And fuck, I'm about to be inside her. That's what I mean by fuck."

I don't pull away or try to cover myself again. I scarcely even breathe as he runs his hands up my body, beginning at my knees. The way he looks at every inch of my skin makes me feel more alive than I have ever felt before. Like my body was meant to be his. It responds like it does. Is it like this for everyone? Does it always feel this good when you're touched? He trails the tips of his fingers up my thighs and over my stomach. Goosebumps raise the hairs on my skin everywhere he touches. It's like he's setting every scar on fire, brandishing them with his touch.

His hand cups my breast and gently he caresses me. I don't know why I do it, but I arch my back and push myself against him. My nipple rubbing his palm sends a jolt of pleasure circulating through me. His murmur is like poison sweeping throughout my body and taking everything. "So responsive for me." I let out a quiet moan as my most sensitive area grows hot and tingles between my thighs. I've never done this before and I don't know right from wrong, but this feels good, and I don't want him to stop.

Erax doesn't stop. He stretches up until his mouth claims my other breast, and then he flicks his tongue over my pebbled nipple.

Fuck was right. Why does this already feel so good?

Back and forth he flicks his tongue before taking my nipple between his teeth. He bites down and I let out a surprised gasp, followed by a moan as he softly kisses me. Then his tongue works its way down my body. He trails his lips over my stomach down to my inner thighs. He bites me there as he lifts my ankle and rests it over his shoulder. He does the same with my other leg, draping it over his shoulder.

"Lie back," he whispers against my thigh. "I want to taste you."

I do as he says, and he parts me that bit wider.

The moment his tongue finds its place between my legs, I reach for his hair, grabbing hold of him as though I'm about to fall. His breath tickles me as he chuckles increases my pleasure. I bite my lower lip to keep from gasping out again and focus on letting that pressure grow until it spreads over my body in a wave. I've never felt anything like it. I've had orgasms before, by myself, but they weren't like this. It's more intense, more everything, with Erax.

The long sweeps of his tongue, the gentle breaths and relentless swirling, are unlike any I have experienced. It's unlike anything I could have imagined. Erax laps at me as if I'm honey, the very nectar to his being. His fingers move from my inner thigh to caress my folds. He spreads me out, the tip of his tongue searching for that little bud. I feel him moan against me when he finds it, and the sound is beyond erotic.

I want to hear it again.

I twist my hips and try to angle them to give him better access. Or rather, make it easier for him. But Erax presses a hand to my stomach and firmly pushes me down, pinning me to the bed. His eyes flash up to me in warning.

"Stay, or I will tie you to this bed."

I follow his glance to where leather restraints hang from the bottom of the bedposts, some of them clearly visible. How did I miss those?

"You came— aah ! —prepared."

I gasp as he flicks his tongue over me again, right over my sweet spot.

Erax grins up at me. "Of course I did. I know my wife better than anyone. Better than you." He glides his tongue over the length of my core. "Just like I know all this delicious wetness is for me." He groans as he breathes me in. "Now this is the feast I've been waiting for."

Erax doesn't tease me with his tongue. He devours me with it.

He uses the tip to coax out moan after moan until my legs are trembling underneath him. A warm sensation gathers inside me, and I dig my nails into his scalp, but then he just pulls away, and that beautiful, warm feeling vanishes.

A wicked grin taunts his lips when he looks up at me. "Not yet, Mist. The next one I want something different."

He reaches for my hand and removes it from his hair. Something tells me he meant for that to happen—for my pleasure to build and then stop. Tyrant . He lifts my hips, wrapping my legs around his waist, and with another wicked grin, throws me back onto the bed. He then climbs onto me, draping his powerful body over mine, and places his hands at either side of my face.

I look up into his eyes, at my reflection staring right back, completely exposed and vulnerable to this man before me. He's worse than a tyrant—he's a cold-blooded conqueror. For a moment, flashes of that familiar hatred rise to my surface. As if sensing it, Erax pins my hands above my head.

"I just want to touch you."

"Sure, you do." He smirks down at me. "Claw my eyes out more like."

I curse under my head, and he laughs.

Then he kisses me, and at first, I wince from my taste on his lips. Until that wince turns into a moan when I feel him press against me. He's so hard, and so big. He slides his cock between my legs and rubs against me, almost like he's marking me with his scent. I should find it odd, but for some reason it makes me open my legs wider to welcome him in. He's marking me because he's about to claim me.

"What's wrong?" I ask when he suddenly stops.

"Nothing. I'm just looking at you."

My cheeks flame and I turn my head to the side, feeling strangely shy.

"Don't," Erax orders, the command clear in his voice. "I want my wife to look at me when I enter her for the first time."

I take a deep breath and blink back up at him. He moves towards me and glides the tip of his member against my opening. His eyes never leave mine as he enters me. Slowly he pushes inside, inch by inch, and I bite my lips to keep from crying out. It hurts, it stings, but Erax's eyes hold me in their grasp, forcing me to focus only on him. He presses his forehead to mine as he eases further in.

I dig my nails into his hand, groaning with him once he's fully inside me. For a moment he stays like that, our bodies entwined, as if he's savouring the moment. I savour it too. This is the first time my hate for him no longer burns with just hatred.

It burns with desire, a yearning so fierce that it sears my very soul,

Tears leak from the corner of my eyes. He watches them fall as he moves his hips and I feel myself stretching around him. Then he leans down and licks them from my cheek. He caresses the side of my face with his hands, freeing mine to fall upon his back. I dig my fingers into his skin there, half of me wanting to rip the flesh from his bones, and the other half—the half that terrifies me most of all—wants to caress him back. To just see what it would feel to open myself up to him.

Who am I kidding? I opened myself to Erax the moment he kissed me.

He groans as I claw at him. His hand wraps around my neck and squeezes in warning. I hold his gaze and let him look me in the eye just like he wanted. His grip tightens and he presses his fingers into my throat as he moves his hips with not so gentle thrusts. His movements are no longer gentle or slow but fast and deep, each one hitting off a strange spot inside me that makes me curl my toes.

I close my eyes, shocked by the sensation and frightened by the urge I have to kiss the man causing it. Erax squeezes my throat harder, and stars spread across my vision.

"Open them!"

I obey his command with a moan. How can Erax make me moan like this while practically choking me? How can my body even enjoy this? But my body is more than enjoying it, because the stars that dance across my vision work their way into my hands and toes, and I dig them into whatever surface I can as I scream out.

" Erax !"

The sensation building in me is just too great. Too strong. It makes me want to scream and cry at the same time. My eyes close again from instinct as this orgasm hits harder than the last and simply blinds me with sheer pleasure.

"Look at me!" Erax's moves faster, his hand never leaving my throat. "Stop fighting me, Maelena, and look at me."

Breathlessly, I look up at him glaring down at me. The tip of his cheeks are flushed, his breathing has turned heavy, and his hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes. Eyes that are so terrifying and mesmerising at the same time. Eyes that take my breath away. Eyes that tear me apart and make me want to submit to him.

"Just stop fighting me," Erax repeats, his voice bordering on a plea.

I'm not fighting you .

I want to scream the words at him, but I can only moan again as his thrusts deepen, lifting me off the bed. I cling on to his shoulders, finding his lips with my own. Erax pauses, as if shocked by the kiss. Somewhere in the coherent part of my mind, it takes me by surprise too, but I don't pull away. I kiss Erax like he really is the air to my lungs, my reason for breathing.

"Maelena…" He moans out my name like it's a prayer. "My wife… Fuck !"

He stills inside me, releasing with a deep, shuddering groan that makes me clench around him. Minutes pass while the two of us lay sprawled on the bed, utterly spent, and I realise with beautiful, devastating conviction that Erax has more than won the battle between us.

He's completely conquered me.