Chapter 24
Twenty Four
Kaden
She lies beneath me, a beautiful ruin. Her body is pliant, her eyes dazed with the aftershocks of her release. The scent of her pleasure, sharp and sweet, fills the air, a potent aphrodisiac that pushes me closer to the edge. I have tasted her surrender, and it has only made me hungrier.
I shift, my weight settling between her thighs. She gasps, her eyes fluttering back into focus, a flicker of awareness, of fear, returning.
“Shhh, cara,” I murmur, my lips brushing against hers. “The night is not over. I’m not finished with you yet.”
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her slick, swollen folds. She is so wet, so ready for me. Her body, which has only known the cold, clinical touch of a doctor, is now about to know me. Its master. Its king.
Her eyes are wide, a maelstrom of fear and a dawning, dark anticipation.
She is terrified. And she is undeniably aroused.
The combination is intoxicating. She believes she is safe, protected by the small implant in her arm.
A foolish, naive belief. She has no idea I had it removed.
She has no idea that every part of this act is a step toward my ultimate goal.
“Look at me, Wynter,” I command, my voice a low, guttural growl. “I want to see your eyes when I make you mine.”
She obeys, her gaze locking with mine. I see it all there – her fear, her fight, her surrender.
I push into her, slowly, deliberately. She is tight, so incredibly tight. A virgin. The knowledge sends a bolt of possessive, primal satisfaction through me. I am the first. I will be the only.
She cries out, a sharp, pained sound, her body tensing, her hands flying up to push against my chest. “No, please, it hurts…”
“I know, Snowflake,” I whisper, my voice rough with a strange, unfamiliar tenderness.
I still my movements, giving her body a moment to adjust, to accept me.
I lean down, kissing her deeply, my tongue tangling with hers, a distraction from the discomfort.
I kiss her until her frantic struggles soften, until her body begins to relax, to yield.
“Breathe,” I murmur against her lips. “Just breathe.”
She does, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. Her body, slowly, painstakingly, begins to accommodate me. The pain in her eyes recedes, replaced by a dawning wonder.
I begin to move, my thrusts slow, deep, deliberate. Each one is a claim, a brand, a declaration of ownership. I watch her face, her every expression. The flicker of pain, the gasp of pleasure, the way her eyes flutter shut as she loses herself in the sensation.
Her hips begin to move, tentatively at first, then with a growing confidence, meeting my thrusts. She is learning. She is adapting. She is embracing the darkness.
I increase the pace, my thrusts becoming harder, faster, more primal. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, a raw, carnal rhythm. She is moaning now, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at the silk sheets.
“Kaden,” she cries out, her voice a raw, desperate plea.
I am lost in her, in the tight, wet heat of her body, in the scent of her pleasure. My control, so carefully maintained, begins to fray. I am close. So close. The primal urge to breed her, to plant my seed deep inside her and make her the mother of my heir, is overwhelming.
“Come with me, Wynter,” I command, my voice a low, guttural growl. “Come with me now.”
I drive into her, one final, powerful thrust, my body shuddering as my release floods her, hot and thick. Her name is a roar on my lips.
At the same moment, she cries out, her body convulsing around me, her inner muscles clenching, milking me, taking everything I have to give.
I collapse onto her, my body heavy, spent. My forehead rests against hers, our breaths mingling in the quiet room. Her body is still trembling beneath me, the aftershocks of her pleasure a testament to our shared release.
I have claimed her. Not just with a kiss, not just with my touch, but with my body. I have filled her, possessed her, made her mine in the most primal, absolute way possible. I have planted my flag, my claim, my very essence inside her.
I pull out of her slowly, then gather her into my arms, pulling her tight against my side. She is pliant, exhausted, her body a warm, boneless weight against mine.
She is no longer the untouched Snow White, lost in the woods. She has been claimed by the dark king. And with any luck, she now carries his heir. She will never be the same. And she will never leave.