30. Twenty-Seven

I stayed with Ruith all night, my body curled around his in a desperate attempt to share my warmth, my life, with his too-still form. The candles burned down to stubs, their flickering light casting eerie shadows on the walls. Outside, the wind howled mournfully, rattling the windows as if nature itself grieved the loss of the king.

Time lost all meaning in that darkened bedchamber. Minutes bled into hours, marked only by the slow, steady beat of my own heart and the ragged cadence of my breath. My fingers traced the lines and planes of Ruith's face, committing every beloved detail to memory—the arch of his brows, the slope of his nose, the scar above his lip, the point of his ears. I whispered to him, my voice hoarse and raw with unshed tears, as if I could somehow will him back to life through nothing more than my words.

As the long night wore on, exhaustion crept over me, weighing down my limbs and clouding my thoughts. I fought against it, terrified that if I allowed myself to slip into slumber, I would awaken to find Ruith gone forever, his spirit fled beyond even Daraith's power to recall.

But eventually, inevitably, my eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed me. I tumbled into a realm of dark dreams where Ruith and I walked hand in hand through shadowy fields and planes.

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. The first pale fingers of the weak dawn were creeping through the window, casting a ghostly golden glow over the room. I blinked, disoriented, my mind still tangled in the cobwebs of sleep.

And then I felt it—the barest hint of movement beneath me, the slightest stirring of breath.

My gaze snapped to Ruith's face, hope surging through me with dizzying intensity. I watched, scarcely daring to breathe, as his dark lashes fluttered against the high curve of his cheeks. A soft moan escaped his lips, little more than a sigh, but to me it was everything.

Unable to contain myself, I shifted to straddle Ruith's hips, my hands braced on either side of his head. I leaned down, my lips hovering a hair's breadth from his, close enough to feel the whisper of his breath against my skin.

"Ruith," I murmured, my voice rough. "Open your eyes, dammit. Come back to me."

Another moan, louder this time, and then his eyes slowly opened. They were hazy with confusion at first, but then they sharpened, focused entirely on me. His lips parted, forming the shape of my name, though no sound emerged. He was still disoriented, as if he were waking from a deep sleep and not death itself.

I traced the sharp line of his cheekbone with a trembling finger, marveling at the warmth of his skin. Tears of relief pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision. I pushed them away with the heel of my hand.

"Elindir." His voice was uncharacteristically raspy and rough.

I had feared I would never hear him speak again, never see the light of recognition in his eyes or feel the caress of his breath against my skin. But here he was, alive and whole, gazing up at me with a tender wonder that made my heart ache.

"You're alive," I whispered, voice breaking. "I thought I'd lost you."

Ruith's hand lifted, his long fingers threading through my hair to cup the back of my head. With gentle pressure, he drew me down until our foreheads touched, our breath mingling in the scant space between our lips. "I thought the same of you. When I lost you, I… The thought of living without you, of facing an eternity alone... it was more than I could endure. I had to save you, no matter the cost."

My breath hitched. "You gave up a part of yourself for me." My fingertips grazed the bandage over his ribs. The healers had done what they could to seal it, but there was only so much healing they could do for dead tissue. There'd be a scar for certain.

Ruith's hand slid from my hair to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled from my eyes. "I would give up everything for you, Elindir. My kingdom, my crown, my very life. None of it means anything without you by my side. Do you believe me now when I say I love you?"

A sob caught in my throat, and I couldn't answer. Not with words. I surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and answer. His mouth opened beneath mine, his tongue sliding against my own in a dance that was at once familiar and exhilarating. He tasted of honey and spice, of home and belonging.

My hands roamed over his body, mapping the contours of his chest and shoulders, relearning every dip and plane. I was mindful of the bandage over his ribs, the place where Daraith had cut into his flesh to remove the rib that had saved my life. I ghosted my fingertips over the linen, marveling at the sacrifice he had made for me.

Ruith's hands slid beneath the hem of my undershirt to splay across the small of my back. His touch was electric, igniting sparks of desire that raced along my nerve endings and pooled in my groin. I gasped into his mouth, my hips rocking forward of their own accord to grind against his.

Ruith's hands roamed lower, his fingers digging into the firm globes of my ass and pulling me flush against him. I could feel the hard length of him pressing insistently against my hip. A low moan escaped my lips as he rolled his hips upward, the friction sending jolts of electricity skittering along my spine.

In one fluid movement, he reversed our positions, rolling me onto my back and settling his weight between my thighs. The velvet of his robes was soft and sensual against my bare skin, a delicious contrast to the hard planes of his body.

Ruith's lips curved into a smile. "Are you going to fight me this time, Elindir?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm done denying what I want." I reached up to thread my fingers through his silken hair, marveling at the softness of it. "Just promise to make me feel alive again."

Ruith's smile turned into a smirk. "As my prince commands."

He leaned down to capture my lips once more, his kiss achingly tender. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I granted it readily. I lost myself in that kiss, in the taste and heady rush of surrender in it.

His hands and lips roamed over my body, mapping every dip and plane with a reverent intensity. Calloused fingers skated over the ridges of my ribs, dipped into the hollow of my navel, traced the sharp cut of my hipbones. Each touch was a brand, a claiming, a silent vow. Mine, they seemed to say. Forever mine.

My own hands were just as busy, pushing the soft velvet of his underrobe off his broad shoulders. The fabric pooled at his waist and I smoothed my palms over the sculpted expanse of his back, reveling in the shift of powerful muscles beneath bronzed skin. He was a work of art, every inch of him honed to deadly perfection, yet he trembled beneath my touch like a wild thing trying to act tame.

Ruith's mouth trailed lower, his lips and tongue mapping a fiery path down my stomach. I gasped and arched as he dipped his tongue into my navel, my fingers tightening in his silky hair. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my trousers and tugged, peeling the fabric down my hips and thighs.

"Ruith, please," I panted, hardly recognizing my own voice.

He chuckled against my skin. "Patience, my prince. I intend to savor every inch of you."

And savor me he did, with lips and tongue and teeth, until my entire body felt like one exposed nerve, raw and desperate for his touch. When he finally reached my straining cock, I nearly sobbed with relief. His hot breath ghosted over the sensitive skin, making me twitch and leak.

Ruith lapped it up with a pleased hum, then swirled his tongue around the swollen head. I cried out sharply, my hands fisting in the silk sheets. He lapped and sucked at my aching cock, swirling his tongue around the tip once more before swallowing me deep. My hands scrabbled at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as I arched and writhed beneath him.

"Ruith," I panted, my voice a broken rasp. "I need... please, I need..."

He looked up at me with a wicked glint in his eye. "Tell me what you need, my prince," he purred, his breath hot against my spit-slicked skin. "I would hear you beg for it."

A whine built in my throat as he nuzzled into the crease of my thigh, lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin. "You," I gasped out, tangling my fingers in his silky hair. "I need you, Ruith. All of you."

He growled against my thigh, sending delicious vibrations through my body. Strong hands gripped my thighs, pushing them up and out, baring me completely. I felt open, exposed, vulnerable in a way I had never been before.

The first swipe of his tongue against my entrance made me cry out, my back arching off the bed. Pleasure sparked through my veins like lightning, setting every nerve ending alight. He lapped at me like a man starved, his mouth hot and wet and filthy in the best possible way.

I writhed shamelessly beneath him, hands fisting in the sheets, toes curling and thighs tensing where they were thrown over his shoulders. Ruith growled his approval, the vibrations making me gasp and shudder. His tongue delved deeper, thrusting into my body in a lewd mimicry of what was to come.

"Ruith, oh gods." He was unraveling me with every clever swirl and stroke, reducing me to a trembling, desperate creature.

Ruith's tongue swirled and probed, igniting sparks of pleasure that danced along my nerve endings. His fingers joined in, slick with oil as they caressed and stretched. I was lost to the sensations, my world narrowed to the exquisite torture of his mouth and hands.

And all I could do was beg greedily for more.

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more exquisite torment, Ruith's fingers curled inside me, brushing against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I cried out, my back arching off the bed as pleasure crashed through me in dizzying waves.

"Enough! I need you inside me. Now," I demanded.

With a final swirl of his clever tongue, Ruith moved up my body, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my quivering stomach and heaving chest. He captured my lips in a searing kiss and I tasted myself on his tongue, musky and heady.

Ruith settled his hips between my splayed thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging at my slick entrance. I whimpered into his mouth, hands scrabbling at his sweat-slicked back, urging him closer.

The breath left my lungs in a shuddering gasp as he entered my body with a slow, deliberate thrust. Ruith stilled, giving me a moment to adjust, and kissing me deeply. He began to move then, slow and deep, each powerful thrust sheathing him fully inside me. I cried out, my fingers digging into the corded muscles of his back as he stretched and filled me so completely. The drag of his thick cock inside of me was maddening and perfect, enough and not enough at the same time.

Ruith shifted my legs, draping them over his broad shoulders and opening me even further for him, and I groaned. He loomed over me, dark hair spilling around us like a silken curtain, eyes blazing with feral intensity as he drove into me again and again. His body moved above me, muscles flexing and rolling beneath bronzed skin slicked with sweat.

I was lost to the feel of him, every fiber of my being focused on the place where we were joined. I raked my nails down the sculpted expanse of his back, delighting in the low growl that rumbled in his chest in response.

"Ruith," I panted, my voice a broken rasp. "Oh gods, don't stop..."

He captured my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my moans and whimpers. His tongue plundered my mouth, mimicking the motion of his hips as he fucked me with deep, purposeful strokes.

And then the door to Ruith's bedchamber burst open with a resounding bang.

My head snapped towards the sound, eyes wide with shock and horror. There, framed in the doorway, stood Ruith's personal healer, probably coming to check on the king after he'd spent the night dead. The last thing the poor elf probably expected was to find her king buried inside the human prince.

The healer froze, her eyes going wide as she clutched her towels to her chest.

To my absolute horror, Ruith didn't even pause in his relentless thrusting. If anything, he seemed to redouble his efforts, hips snapping forward with a ferocity that made me bite my lip.

I tried to scramble away, face burning with humiliation, but Ruith's strong hands gripped my hips, holding me in place. "Come back later," he snarled over his shoulder at the poor healer, not even bothering to look at her. "I'm busy fucking my prince."

The elf squeaked something unintelligible and fled, slamming the door behind her.

I stared at Ruith in shock, mouth agape. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

But my protests turned into a strangled moan as Ruith ground his hips in a slow, filthy circle, his cock pressing insistently against that spot inside me that made my toes curl.

"You told me not to stop," he purred, dark eyes glinting with wicked amusement. Before I could form a retort, he flipped me over onto my stomach with effortless strength.

I yelped as he manhandled me into position, pulling my hips up and back. He grabbed my wrists, pinned them to my lower back, and held them there.

I gasped as Ruith entered me again from behind, the new angle allowing him to plunge even deeper. His grip on my wrists tightened as he began to move, each powerful thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through my body. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed obscenely in the bedchamber, mingling with our ragged breaths and guttural moans.

"Gods, Elindir," Ruith growled, his voice rough with desire. "You feel incredible like this."

I could only moan in response, too lost in the exquisite sensations to form coherent words. My face was pressed into the pillows, hands held firmly behind my back by Ruith's unbreakable grip on my wrists. Drool leaked from the corner of my mouth as broken whimpers and moans were punched out of me with each powerful thrust.

Ruith shifted slightly, and I cursed as his cock dragged over just the right spot inside me. Pleasure built and coiled, winding tighter and tighter until I felt like I might snap from the sheer intensity of it. My neglected cock throbbed where it hung heavy between my legs, leaking steadily onto the rumpled sheets. I writhed beneath him, pushing my hips back to meet his brutal thrusts.

"Mine," he ground out in Elvish. "You don't get to fucking die unless I say so. You don't get to leave me. You don't get to go where I can't follow. Ever. You're mine now, bought and paid for with blood and bone. Mine. Mine. Mine ." He punctuated each word with a brutal roll of his hips that banished all coherent thought from my head.

"Ruith," I keened, my voice a broken, desperate thing. "Please... I need..."

"I know what you need," he growled. One of his hands released my hip to tangle in my hair, wrenching my head back. The sharp sting of pain blended deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure, making me gasp and shudder. "You need to come on my cock like a good little prince. You need to milk me dry and take every last drop of my seed and accept my claim over you, don't you, Elindir?"

"Yes," I sobbed, past the point of pride or shame. "Gods, yes..."

And then I was coming undone, shamelessly painting the sheets with my release as he growled and fucked into me with unmatched ferocity. Gods, he hadn't even touched my cock, and I was having the most intense orgasm of my life, sobbing like he was killing me with it. Maybe he was. The line between life and death had gotten so blurry over the last few days. Who knew what side of it we were standing on? I knew only that I was there with him, and that he wasn't ever going to leave me again. That was all that mattered.

Ruith's thrusts grew erratic, his iron control slipping as his own climax neared. His grip on my hair tightened to the point of pain, holding me immobile as he slammed into me again and again. I could do nothing but take it, my body limp and pliant in the aftermath of my own orgasm.

Ruith let out a guttural groan, his hips snapping forward one final time as he buried himself to the hilt. I bit my lip, savoring the twitch and throb of his cock deep inside me, the way it swelled impossibly larger before flooding my insides.

I moaned brokenly at the sensation, my oversensitive body shuddering and clenching around him. It felt like he was pouring molten lava into me, scalding and intense.

"Elindir," Ruith gasped, his deep voice ragged and wrecked. His broad, muscular body curved over mine, blanketing me completely as the last tremors of his release shook through him.

I whimpered as he rolled his hips in shallow, grinding circles, working his seed even deeper inside me.

Ruith's chest heaved against my back as he fought to catch his breath, his heart hammering in tandem with my own. His forehead dropped to my shoulder, lips brushing against sweat-slicked skin as he mouthed praises in Elvish. He was so far gone, he couldn't even speak my language anymore.

Slowly, gradually, Ruith's weight lifted off my back as he withdrew from my body. The loss of him was an aching emptiness that went far beyond the physical. A whimper escaped my lips at the sensation of his seed trickling down my thighs.

With gentle hands, Ruith gathered me into his arms and rolled us onto our sides, spooning me from behind. I melted into his embrace, feeling utterly spent and boneless. The heat of his body closed around me, his skin slick with sweat and smelling of sex and something uniquely Ruith. I breathed him in, letting his scent wash over me and calm my still racing heart.

Ruith's long fingers skimmed over my hip and across my stomach, tracing idle patterns on my flushed skin. Each touch was electric, igniting tiny sparks in my exhausted body. I shivered and pressed back against him, relishing the solid warmth of his broad chest against my back.

"Are you all right?" he asked, still in Elvish.

I was too tired to bother translating in my head, so I shook my head and replied in my native tongue. "I think you've broken me."

Ruith chuckled, the sound a deep rumble that I could feel in my bones. "Then I shall have to put you back together again. Piece by piece." He kissed my neck, sending a shiver through me. "I love you."

My breath hitched at his words, emotion clogging my throat. I twisted in his arms until we were face to face, our noses nearly touching on the shared pillow. I lifted a hand to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone, my fingertips grazing the silken skin. He leaned into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, as if savoring the contact. When they opened again, they were soft with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"I love you too," I whispered, "you bastard."

He smiled, caught my hand, and kissed my fingers. "I don't care if you're mad at me," he announced. "I have a lifetime now to make it up to you."