The grand hall of Eldrath Keep thrummed with the weight of ancient magic and wary silence, its vaulted ceilings draped in silver-threaded tapestries that caught the flickering glow of crystal chandeliers. King Thorne Eldrath stood rigid at the obsidian table, his towering frame clad in midnight robes embroidered with thorns, antler crown casting jagged shadows across his stern face. Silver eyes narrowed as he gripped the quill, the political necessity of this alliance clawing at his pride like unseen vines. With a reluctant exhale that stirred the air like a low growl, he scrawled his name across the marriage pact, the ink sealing his kingdom's fragile peace while his jaw tightened against the vulnerability it demanded.

Across from him, the High Fae advisors murmured their approval in cool tones, their gazes flicking between the king and the empty space reserved for his bride. "A wise choice, my liege," one ventured, voice laced with calculation. Thorne's response cut sharp and distant, his words like frost on bark: "Duty binds what heart would reject. Let this union serve the realms, nothing more." The exchange hung heavy, underscoring the chill between his commanding isolation and the warmth he anticipated from the wilds beyond.

A ripple of unease swept the assembly as the great doors parted, admitting Liora Sylvana in a cascade of soft light. Her auburn hair, threaded with living vines that pulsed faintly green, framed a face of luminous empathy, emerald eyes meeting the hostile stares with quiet resilience. She glided forward, lithe form draped in gossamer fabrics that whispered of forest breezes, radiating a gentle kindness that contrasted the court's barbed formality. Thorne's piercing gaze locked onto her, an unexpected spark igniting beneath his aloof mask as their worlds brushed for the first time.

The grand hall of the High Fae Court thrummed with the weight of ancient magic and uneasy silence, its crystal chandeliers casting prismatic shadows over tapestries woven from starlight and thorns. King Thorne Eldrath stood rigid before the obsidian table, his towering frame clad in robes of midnight silk that clung to the hard planes of his chest and the corded muscles of his arms. Silver eyes narrowed beneath his antler crown as he gripped the quill, the reluctant scratch of ink across parchment sealing his fate in this fragile alliance. Duty demanded it—his kingdom's borders frayed under encroaching wild magics—but every fiber of his being chafed at the surrender, his voice a low growl echoing off vaulted ceilings. "This union binds our realms, nothing more," he declared to the assembled nobles, whose hostile murmurs swirled like autumn winds.

A stir rippled through the crowd as the great doors parted, and Liora Sylvana glided into the chamber like a breath of verdant life amid the court's sterile grandeur. Her lithe form shimmered with an inner glow, auburn hair cascading in waves laced with living vines that pulsed softly against her porcelain skin, framing a face of quiet empathy and emerald eyes that met his without flinching. She approached with graceful steps, the faint scent of moss and wildflowers trailing her, her simple gown of woven leaves and silk clinging to the gentle curves of her breasts and hips. Thorne's gaze flicked over her, cold and assessing, their first exchange sharp as frost-kissed blades. "You come willingly to this cage, spirit?" he intoned, his tone laced with icy detachment that belied the faint stir of something warmer beneath his skin.

Liora offered a soft smile, her voice a melodic whisper that cut through the tension like sunlight piercing fog. "For peace, my king, and perhaps more if you allow it." She extended her hand, delicate fingers brushing his as she signed beside his name, her touch igniting a spark that raced up his arm and settled low in his gut, awakening a hunger he refused to name. The nobles watched with veiled disdain, but in that moment, the air thickened with unspoken promise, Thorne's commanding presence clashing against her nurturing resilience as the pact sealed their fates.

She approached with measured grace, the soft luminescence of her skin casting faint patterns of ivy across the obsidian surface as she took her place opposite him. "King Thorne," she said, her voice a melodic whisper of wind through leaves, "I come not to bind you in chains of duty alone, but to offer the strength of the wilds in true partnership." Her emerald eyes held his without flinching, a quiet invitation beneath the court's simmering hostility, and Thorne felt the first fissure in his centuries-old armor—a stir of heat low in his gut that had nothing to do with political strategy. He inclined his head, the motion stiff yet laced with reluctant respect, signing the final seal before the advisors could interject further.

As the parchment was whisked away amid murmurs of obligation, Thorne extended a hand across the table, his callused fingers brushing hers in a touch that sparked like struck flint against damp moss. Liora’s lithe form leaned in ever so slightly, the gossamer folds of her gown shifting to reveal the gentle curve of her breast and the subtle flush rising along her collarbone, while an answering warmth bloomed between her thighs at the raw power radiating from him. The air thickened with unspoken tension, his silver gaze tracing the line of her throat as if already imagining the taste of her skin, and for the first time, duty’s chill gave way to a primal pull neither could yet name.

The air thickened with unspoken tension, his silver gaze tracing the line of her throat as if already imagining the taste of her skin, and for the first time, duty’s chill gave way to a primal pull neither could yet name. As the advisors withdrew with the signed pact, the grand hall transformed around them, crystal chandeliers dimming to a sultry glow while servants unfurled tables laden with both delicate High Fae wines and the wilder offerings of forest fruits fermented in mossy casks. Nobles in their starched finery mingled uneasily with the arriving wild fae envoys, whose laughter grew bolder and whose dances shed layers of silk in favor of bare skin painted in glowing runes, the air soon humming with the scent of spiced mead, crushed petals, and rising arousal.

Thorne led Liora to the head table, his large hand settling possessively at the small of her back, fingers splaying over the warm curve just above her hips. She leaned into the touch with a soft intake of breath, her emerald eyes darkening as the celebration’s energy seeped into her veins, nipples tightening visibly against the thin, nearly translucent leaf-woven fabric of her gown. Around them the music shifted from measured strings to a throbbing drumbeat, couples pressing close in shadowed alcoves where formal bows gave way to hungry kisses and wandering hands, the wild fae openly palming breasts and grinding hips with abandon while the High Fae watched with barely veiled hunger. Thorne’s silver eyes caught Liora’s, the earlier frost melting into molten interest as he pulled her nearer, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her wrist. “The night grows... unrestrained,” he murmured, voice rough, and she answered by guiding his palm upward to cup the soft swell of her breast, her own fingers brushing boldly along the hard line of his thigh beneath the table, feeling the thick ridge of his cock stir against confining silk.

Her pulse quickened at the contact, a slick warmth gathering between her thighs as she imagined him parting her legs later, filling her with the same commanding presence that now radiated heat through his robes. Thorne’s antler crown cast shifting shadows over her flushed cheeks while the celebration swirled into full carnal display—bodies entwined on cushions, moans rising above the music, the sharp tang of sex threading through the perfumed air. Yet his focus remained solely on her, leaning close enough that his breath stirred the vines in her hair, promising that their first union would burn away the last remnants of political chill in a blaze of shared need and awakening tenderness.

Yet his focus remained solely on her, leaning close enough that his breath stirred the vines in her hair, promising that their first union would burn away the last remnants of political chill in a blaze of shared need and awakening tenderness. Liora’s small palm slid higher along his thigh, bold and unhesitating, until her fingers brushed the rigid length of his cock straining against the silk of his robes. The contact sent a jolt through Thorne’s centuries-repressed body, his silver eyes darkening to molten steel as a low groan rumbled in his chest. Her touch was light, exploratory, yet it ignited a hunger so fierce it bordered on pain, his shaft throbbing hot and heavy beneath her palm while pre-cum dampened the fabric.

He captured her wrist not to pull away but to press her hand more firmly against him, grinding subtly into her touch as the wild music pulsed around them. “Liora,” he growled, voice thick with restraint fraying at the edges, “you test a king long denied.” Her emerald eyes widened with a mix of innocence and invitation, nipples pebbling tighter against her gossamer gown as she felt the full girth of him, tracing the vein along his length through the cloth. The air between them crackled, her scent of moss and arousal mingling with his own musk, and Thorne’s free hand slipped beneath the table to cup her breast fully, thumb circling the sensitive peak until she gasped. Around them the feast devolved further into moans and slick sounds of coupling bodies, yet the world narrowed to her soft curves yielding under his grip and the slick heat he knew awaited between her thighs.

Unable to bear another moment of distance, Thorne rose abruptly, pulling her with him toward a shadowed alcove draped in silken curtains. He backed her against the cool stone wall, his antler crown framing her flushed face as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep while his hands shoved her gown aside to bare her breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze. Liora arched into him, her hand freeing his cock from its confines, wrapping slender fingers around the thick, veined shaft that sprang forth, hot and insistent against her belly. “Take me, my king,” she whispered against his lips, guiding the swollen head to her slick folds, and Thorne thrust forward with a controlled savagery born of decades-long denial, burying himself to the hilt in her tight, welcoming pussy as her walls clenched around him in exquisite welcome.

burying himself to the hilt in her tight, welcoming pussy as her walls clenched around him in exquisite welcome. She cried out softly against his mouth, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to move, each powerful thrust driving deeper into her slick heat. The rough stone at her back contrasted the velvet drag of his cock stretching her open, filling her completely with every stroke, while his tongue claimed hers in a rhythm that mirrored the relentless snap of his hips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, vines in her hair pulsing brighter with each moan that escaped her lips, the scent of her arousal thickening the air between them.

Thorne’s hand slid down to grip her ass, lifting her higher so he could angle his thrusts to graze that sensitive spot inside her that made her pussy flutter and drip around his shaft. “Liora,” he rasped, voice hoarse with centuries of restraint shattering, “you feel like salvation.” Her emerald eyes locked onto his silver ones, wet with pleasure and something tender, her breasts pressed flush to his chest as he pounded into her, the wet sounds of their joining mingling with the distant feast’s moans. She rolled her hips to meet him, inner muscles squeezing tight, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest while his thumb found her clit, circling the swollen bud until her thighs trembled.

The king’s antler crown scraped the curtain as he buried his face in her neck, teeth grazing her pulse while his cock swelled thicker inside her, chasing release with growing urgency. Liora’s nails raked down his back, her body arching as orgasm crashed through her, pussy spasming in hot, rhythmic pulses that milked him relentlessly. With a final, shuddering thrust Thorne followed, spilling deep inside her in thick, hot ropes, his powerful frame shuddering against hers as the bond between them flared brighter than any political seal—raw, primal, and laced with the first fragile threads of something far more dangerous than duty.

With a final, shuddering thrust Thorne followed, spilling deep inside her in thick, hot ropes, his powerful frame shuddering against hers as the bond between them flared brighter than any political seal—raw, primal, and laced with the first fragile threads of something far more dangerous than duty. Yet even as the last pulses of his release ebbed, Thorne remained rigid within her slick heat, his cock refusing to soften as he gazed down at the woman pinned beneath him. Liora’s breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath, flushed and glistening, the rosy peaks taut and begging for his mouth after centuries of denial that had left him starved for such simple, devastating beauty. He could not look away, silver eyes devouring the soft swell of them, the way they trembled against his chest, and a fresh surge of hunger coiled low in his gut, thick and insistent, stretching her pussy anew around his unyielding girth.

The king’s antler crown tilted as he leaned closer, one large hand rising to cup the underside of her left breast, thumb dragging slowly over the sensitive nipple until she whimpered. “Still so hard for you,” he rasped, voice gravel-rough with disbelief and awakening need, hips rolling forward in a shallow thrust that stirred the mingled spend inside her. Centuries of icy restraint cracked wide open; he had denied himself touch, denied himself pleasure, and now every suppressed longing roared to life at the sight of her body offered so freely. His mouth descended, tongue laving the peaked bud before drawing it between his lips to suckle with desperate reverence, teeth grazing just enough to make her walls flutter around him again.

Liora moaned, fingers threading into his raven hair as he feasted, her legs tightening around his waist to hold him deeper. The alcove’s shadows cloaked them while the distant feast echoed with other couplings, but Thorne’s world narrowed to the velvet drag of her breast against his tongue and the slick clench of her pussy refusing to release him. He thrust again, slower this time, savoring the way her body yielded, already planning how he would claim every inch of her through the long night ahead—making up for every lonely year with the heat of her skin under his hands and the taste of her arousal on his lips.

He continued to fuck her with deliberate, grinding rolls of his hips, withdrawing only to sink back into the tight, clutching heat of her pussy that seemed to draw him deeper with every stroke. His mouth switched to her other nipple, sucking hard enough to make her arch and cry out, teeth scraping lightly over the tender peak before his tongue soothed the sting. He lavished the same attention on both, alternating until her breasts glistened with his saliva and her nipples stood swollen, puffy, and aching beneath the relentless pull of his lips. The addiction hit him like a fever—he could not get enough of the soft, yielding flesh under his tongue, the way her skin flushed and heated at his touch, nor the velvet grip of her cunt squeezing around his cock as if it had been made solely for him.

Thorne’s thrusts grew deeper, more possessive, each one dragging a wet sound from where they joined as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. His large hands roamed her body with growing reverence, one palming the curve of her breast while the other gripped her hip to hold her steady for his claiming. Liora’s moans filled the alcove, her fingers tightening in his hair as pleasure coiled tighter inside her, her walls fluttering and clenching around his thick length in helpless response. The king groaned against her breast, lost in the taste of her skin and the slick, intoxicating heat that welcomed him without reservation, every slow thrust stoking a hunger that felt centuries in the making.

He lifted his head at last, silver eyes dark with wonder and raw need as he watched her face, then claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss while his hips snapped harder, driving them both toward another shattering peak. Her body trembled around him, slick and perfect, and Thorne knew with bone-deep certainty that this forest spirit had already begun to unravel every wall he had built around his heart.

Her body trembled around him, slick and perfect, and Thorne knew with bone-deep certainty that this forest spirit had already begun to unravel every wall he had built around his heart. He claimed her mouth once more in a bruising kiss before his lips began their descent, trailing fire along the column of her throat where her pulse fluttered wildly, then lower still over the swell of her breasts. He lingered there only briefly, tongue laving each sensitive peak before continuing across the soft plane of her stomach, tasting the salt of her skin and the faint essence of wildflowers that clung to her. His hands gripped her hips as he reached the delicate patch of auburn curls between her thighs, inhaling the heady musk of her arousal before spreading those lithe legs wide and draping them across his broad shoulders without ever lowering himself to kneel before any soul, king or spirit alike.

With effortless strength born of centuries, Thorne lifted her higher against the stone wall until she sat astride his shoulders, her quim spread open and glistening before his hungry gaze. Liora gasped at the shift, her fingers tightening in his raven hair as his antler crown framed the intimate view, her thighs trembling on either side of his head. He wasted no time, leaning in to drag his tongue through her slick folds in one long, deliberate stroke, savoring the mingled taste of their releases and the fresh sweetness that was purely her. Her pussy clenched visibly at the contact, swollen and dripping as he circled her clit with focused reverence, then plunged his tongue deep inside her fluttering channel, fucking her with it while his hands supported her ass to hold her steady for his feasting.

Liora cried out, back arching against the wall as pleasure spiraled anew, her juices coating his chin while he devoured her with the same possessive intensity he had used to claim her body moments before. Thorne groaned into her heat, the vibration sending fresh tremors through her core, his silver eyes lifting to lock with her emerald ones as he sucked her clit between his lips and thrust two thick fingers into her tight pussy, curling them to stroke that hidden spot that made her thighs clamp around his head. The bond between them pulsed hotter with every lap and thrust, raw need blending into something tender and unbreakable as he refused to release her until she shattered again on his tongue, her moans echoing through the shadowed alcove like a promise of the endless nights ahead.

Liora’s thighs quivered around his head as the second climax ripped through her, her pussy pulsing and flooding his tongue with fresh sweetness while her cries fractured into breathless whimpers. Thorne drank her down greedily, fingers still working inside her fluttering channel, drawing every last ripple of pleasure from her lithe body until she sagged against the wall, vines in her hair glowing like emeralds in moonlight. Only then did he ease her down, catching her in his arms so her slick heat settled once more over the rigid length of his cock, still achingly hard and slick with their mingled releases.

He turned them smoothly, lowering to the cushioned bench hidden in the alcove’s depths without ever leaving her body, impaling her fully as she straddled his lap. Liora’s emerald eyes were glazed with wonder and lingering ecstasy, her breasts pressed to his chest as she began to ride him with slow, rolling hips that dragged a guttural sound from his throat. Thorne’s large hands spanned her waist, guiding her pace while his mouth found hers again, tongues tangling in a kiss that tasted of their shared passion. Each downward stroke of her tight pussy milked him deeper, the wet sounds of their joining echoing softly amid the distant feast’s debauchery, and the king felt the last of his icy walls crumble beneath the tender ferocity of her embrace.

“Mine,” he rasped against her lips, the word half vow and half revelation as his hips thrust upward to meet her, driving them both toward yet another shattering peak. Her fingers traced the sharp lines of his antler crown before sliding down to clutch his shoulders, grounding them in this new, fragile intimacy forged not of duty but of raw, undeniable hunger. Outside their curtained haven the celebration raged on, yet within it their bodies moved as one, sweat-slicked and desperate, the political chill of their first meeting burned away in the blaze of mounting ecstasy and the quiet promise of something far deeper taking root.

Liora’s breath caught as she felt him still impossibly hard inside her, his cock throbbing with renewed vigor after spilling so deeply moments before. Shocked by the sheer stamina of her ancient king, her emerald eyes widened with a mix of awe and raw, unreasonable attraction that made her pulse race anew. She met his silver gaze, those burning green depths reflecting the hunger she now felt coiling tight in her belly, and with a soft whimper she eased herself off his lap. Her lithe body slid down until she knelt naked before him on the cushioned floor, vines in her auburn hair glowing brighter as she gazed up at his towering form, her hands already reaching to wrap around the thick, glistening length of his cock still slick with their combined releases.

She leaned in without hesitation, pressing soft kisses along the veined shaft before parting her lips to take the swollen head into her mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive crown as she savored the mingled taste of them both. Thorne groaned above her, one large hand threading into her hair while the other cupped her cheek, his hips twitching forward as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with each eager suck. The alcove filled with the wet sounds of her devotion, her free hand drifting between her own thighs to stroke her swollen clit as she worshipped him, the bond between them flaring hotter with every bob of her head and every desperate moan that vibrated around his girth. His antler crown cast shadows over her flushed face as he watched her with molten intensity, the last vestiges of his aloof restraint melting away into something fiercely possessive and tender all at once.

Liora hollowed her cheeks further, taking him deeper into the wet heat of her mouth until the thick head of his cock nudged the back of her throat. She moaned around his girth, the vibration rippling through his length as her tongue pressed flat along the underside, tracing the pulsing vein while her fingers stroked what she could not swallow. Thorne’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, his hand tightening in her auburn hair as he fought the urge to thrust deeper, silver eyes locked on the sight of her lips stretched around him, saliva glistening at the corners of her mouth. The taste of their mingled releases coated her tongue, spurring her on as she bobbed faster, one hand working the base of his shaft in time with her sucks while the other circled her own swollen clit, her thighs slick with fresh arousal.

He groaned low and rough, the sound torn from deep in his chest as pleasure coiled tighter, his antler crown tilting back slightly while he watched her worship him with such eager devotion. “Liora… gods, your mouth,” he rasped, voice hoarse with wonder and rising need, his free hand cupping her cheek to feel the way it bulged with each descent. She looked up at him through thick lashes, emerald eyes shining with heat and something softer, her vines pulsing brighter in time with the wet sounds filling the alcove. Her own fingers quickened between her legs, hips rocking subtly against her hand as she chased her own pleasure from pleasuring him, the bond between them flaring brighter with every shared gasp and tremor.

Thorne’s control finally shattered with a guttural curse. He pulled her off his cock with a wet pop, hauling her up into his arms once more and spinning to press her back against the cushioned bench. In one fluid motion he sheathed himself back inside her dripping pussy, driving deep as she cried out and wrapped around him. Their bodies moved together in a frantic rhythm now, skin slapping skin, her breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust while he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss that tasted of them both. The king spilled into her again with a roar moments later, flooding her clenching walls as she shattered around him, their shared climax sealing something far beyond duty in the shadowed alcove.

Yet even in the aftermath, their bodies refused to part, Thorne's cock still pulsing thick and heavy within the tight clasp of her pussy as aftershocks rippled through them both. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs locked around his waist, and carried her from the alcove into the dimmed hall where the feast had dissolved into scattered couplings on cushions and rugs. Pressing her back against a long oak table laden with half-empty goblets, he drove into her again with deep, rolling thrusts that made the wood creak beneath them, her breasts bouncing with each impact while her slick walls gripped him hungrily. Liora moaned his name, fingers clawing at his shoulders, the vines in her hair glowing brighter as pleasure built once more, her clit throbbing against the base of his shaft with every grind.

They moved like that for what felt like hours, claimed against a velvet-draped chair where she rode him hard, her thighs burning as she sank down onto his unyielding length again and again, then against the cool marble of a pillar where he pinned her wrists above her head and fucked her standing, his mouth latched to her neck as he filled her with another hot flood of seed. The air grew thick with the scent of sweat and sex, their mingled cries echoing the distant moans of the wild fae, yet Thorne's silver eyes never left hers, the frost in them long melted into raw devotion and rising tenderness that matched the way her body welcomed every thrust, every touch. By the time he swept her into his arms once more, both were trembling, skin slick and marked with bites and fingerprints, her pussy swollen and dripping, his cock aching yet still hard as they staggered toward the royal bed chamber.

The heavy doors closed behind them with a resonant thud, sealing them in the vast chamber of silk-draped canopies and a bed wide enough for kings and spirits alike. He laid her down gently atop the furs, yet the moment her back touched the mattress he was inside her again, thrusting slow and deep as exhaustion warred with insatiable need, their movements growing languid but no less intense. Liora clung to him, sore and aching in the sweetest way, her thighs trembling around his hips as another climax built low in her belly, the bond between them flaring brighter with every shared gasp and whispered vow. Thorne buried his face in her hair, his voice rough with centuries of longing finally sated, “You are mine now, in every way,” as he spilled into her once more, their bodies finally stilling in a tangle of limbs, hearts pounding in unison against the fragile dawn.

Thorne collapsed beside her with a shuddering exhale, his powerful frame still thrumming with latent heat even as Liora’s lithe body went slack against the furs, utterly spent from the relentless claiming that had stretched her limits in ways no lover ever had. Never in her centuries had she been taken with such raw, unbridled intensity—the constant stretch of his thick cock, the bruising grip of his hands, the endless flood of his seed—leaving her thighs quivering and her pussy tender, swollen, and leaking with the evidence of their union. Her emerald eyes fluttered shut almost at once, vines in her hair dimming to soft glows as exhaustion pulled her into deep, dreamless sleep, her breath evening out against his chest.

Thorne lingered awake a moment longer, silver eyes tracing the bite marks and raised hickeys blooming across her porcelain skin, satisfaction and something deeper curling in his gut before he too surrendered to the pull, curling around her with one arm draped possessively over her waist. When dawn’s pale light filtered through the canopy the next morning, he stirred in a haze that felt near drunken, head thick with the lingering musk of their passion. Liora lay naked beside him, auburn hair spilling across the pillows, her breasts rising softly with each breath, nipples still swollen and flushed a deep rose from his earlier suckling, while her clit remained visibly puffy and aching between her parted thighs amid the glistening remnants of their release. Bite marks dotted the curve of her throat and the soft undersides of her breasts, raised hickeys mapping a trail down her stomach to the tender flesh of her inner thighs, and Thorne’s cock stirred anew at the sight, a primal hunger rising even as tenderness bloomed in his chest for the forest spirit who had shattered his centuries of ice.

He reached out slowly, fingertips brushing one peaked nipple with reverent care, watching the way her body responded even in sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her hips shifted unconsciously toward his touch. The bond between them pulsed warm and alive, no longer the chill of duty but the first fragile roots of something far more consuming, and Thorne leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the mark on her collarbone, already craving the taste of her again while the fragile dawn promised a new chapter neither had anticipated.

Thorne collapsed beside her with a shuddering exhale, his powerful frame still thrumming with latent heat even as Liora’s lithe body went slack against the furs, utterly spent from the relentless claiming that had stretched her limits in ways no lover ever had. Never in her centuries had she been taken with such raw, unbridled intensity—the constant stretch of his thick cock, the bruising grip of his hands, the endless flood of his seed—leaving her thighs quivering and her pussy tender, swollen, and leaking with the evidence of their union. Her emerald eyes fluttered shut almost at once, vines in her hair dimming to soft glows as exhaustion pulled her into deep, dreamless sleep, her breath evening out against his chest.

Thorne lingered awake a moment longer, silver eyes tracing the bite marks and raised hickeys blooming across her porcelain skin, satisfaction and something deeper curling in his gut before he too surrendered to the pull, curling around her with one arm draped possessively over her waist. When dawn’s pale light filtered through the canopy the next morning, he stirred in a haze that felt near drunken, head thick with the lingering musk of their passion. Liora lay naked beside him, auburn hair spilling across the pillows, her breasts rising softly with each breath, nipples still swollen and flushed a deep rose from his earlier suckling, while her clit remained visibly puffy and aching between her parted thighs amid the glistening remnants of their release. Bite marks dotted the curve of her throat and the soft undersides of her breasts, raised hickeys mapping a trail down her stomach to the tender flesh of her inner thighs, and Thorne’s cock stirred anew at the sight, a primal hunger rising even as tenderness bloomed in his chest for the forest spirit who had shattered his centuries of ice.

He reached out slowly, fingertips brushing one peaked nipple with reverent care, watching the way her body responded even in sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her hips shifted unconsciously toward his touch. The bond between them pulsed warm and alive, no longer the chill of duty but the first fragile roots of something far more consuming, and Thorne leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the mark on her collarbone, already craving the taste of her again while the fragile dawn promised a new chapter neither had anticipated.

Thorne lingered there, his lips brushing the bruised mark with a tenderness that belied the hunger still coiling through his veins, and he relished the sight that came from those swollen lips of hers, parted even in sleep, her neck arching into him unconsciously, pale and slender and bruised from the relentless press of his teeth and mouth the night before. The faint lavender scent of her skin mingled with the musk of their shared releases, stirring his cock to half-hardness again where it rested heavy against her thigh. He traced the line of her throat with one fingertip, watching the way her pulse fluttered beneath the hickeys he had left, each one a dark bloom of possession that made something fiercely protective unfurl in his chest alongside the raw desire.

Her body responded to his lightest touch, hips shifting in a slow, instinctive roll that pressed her slick folds closer to his stirring length, a soft sigh escaping those swollen lips as her neck arched further, offering more of that slender column to his gaze and his mouth. Thorne's silver eyes darkened with renewed want, the centuries of aloof restraint now nothing but ash; he lowered his head to press open-mouthed kisses along the bruised skin, tasting the salt and wildflower sweetness of her while his hand slid down to cup the gentle swell of her breast, thumb circling the still-sensitive nipple until it peaked under his touch. Liora whimpered softly in her sleep, vines in her auburn hair pulsing with faint green light, her lithe form molding against him as if drawn by the same invisible bond that thrummed between their hearts.

The king exhaled a low, reverent groan against her throat, his antler crown casting delicate shadows across her flushed skin as he savored every inch of her yielding warmth, already envisioning how he would wake her with his tongue between her thighs and his hands anchoring her close, turning the fragile dawn into another slow, consuming claiming that would weave their fates tighter than any pact could demand.

The king exhaled a low, reverent groan against her throat, his antler crown casting delicate shadows across her flushed skin as he savored every inch of her yielding warmth, already envisioning how he would wake her with his tongue between her thighs and his hands anchoring her close, turning the fragile dawn into another slow, consuming claiming that would weave their fates tighter than any pact could demand. And oh he does, sliding down her body with fluid grace, his raven head settling at the very center of her, shoulders pushing those delicate bruised thighs apart gently as he settles between them. He never thought he could be gentle, not after centuries of iron rule and denial, yet the sight of her swollen, glistening pussy—tender from their endless night, still leaking his seed—stirred something fiercely protective in his chest alongside the raw hunger.

His silver eyes darkened as he leaned in, breath ghosting over her sensitive folds before his tongue dragged in one long, deliberate stroke through her slick heat, circling her clit with exquisite softness that made her hips twitch even in sleep. Liora whimpered, the sound half-dream and half-awakening, her vines pulsing brighter as his broad shoulders held her open and his mouth worked with reverent patience, tongue pressing in and out against the swollen bud in slow, wet laps that coaxed fresh arousal to bloom. The taste of her—mingled with the salt of their releases—exploded across his senses, and Thorne groaned into her, the vibration rippling through her core while one large hand slid up to cup her breast, thumb brushing the peaked nipple with the same careful tenderness.

Her emerald eyes fluttered open on a gasp, thighs trembling around his antler crown as pleasure spiraled through her exhausted body, the bond flaring hot and tender between them. “Thorne,” she breathed, fingers threading into his hair, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers, silver eyes molten with devotion as he suckled her clit softly, drawing her deeper into the dawn’s light and the promise of a love that had already begun to root far beyond duty.

Thorned Hearts: A Fae King's Surrender