45. Keldarion
Keldarion
Briars crack through a corner of the cage, and Rosalina appears before me, naked, Caspian’s seed running down her thighs. I grip one of the bars of the cage and hold myself steady. I don’t think desire has ever sung louder in my blood than it does now.
Not only because of how delicious she looks but because of the pure need pulsing through our bond. She likes me seeing her like this, likes being sent to me, used and spent.
Rosalina blinks up at me. “Kel, I belong to you.”
The bargain. I have to release her.
She giggles, then says lowly, “How strange. I know I belong to you, but it doesn’t feel like it did before. I think breaking free of Caspian’s bargain has lessened the effect.”
Relief floods through me. “That’ll make it much more convenient in the future.”
“What, are you two planning to do this a lot?”
I only smile, and Caspian’s voice drifts up from below. He lounges on his throne, black cape draping over him. “Keldarion,” he croons, “do you like the state in which I’ve sent your mate? Do you smell her on me?”
I’m not the performer Cas and Rosie are, but I ram against the bars, closing my knuckles around them. “I’ll kill you for what you did to her.”
“No,” Caspian says simply. “I’ll kill you both if you don’t do what I say. And because I doubt you grasp exactly what I mean, the first thing you’re going to do is lick her pussy clean so you finally understand who she belongs to.”
“You bastard!” I roar.
His voice drifts into my mind. I knew you’d like that, pet.
Rosalina gives me a playful look before running to the back of the cage. It sways with her movement. “No! I only want you, Prince of Thorns.”
“The beast of Winter will do what I say,” Caspian calls. “By whatever means necessary.”
Rosalina gives me a desperate, scared look. Then a wink. Catch me if you can, Kel, she says in my mind.
A low growl sounds in my throat, and I charge after her. She’s quick, dancing out of my reach.
“Caspian!” she shrieks as I grip her soft waist and pull her to the ground, cage lurching. Down below, most of the guests are watching us. Very few still seem interested in the rose. It’s working. Of course it’s working. Caspian knows these people well.
Rosie puts up a mock struggle, but I grab her legs and shove them apart, taking in a heady breath as I stare at her pussy. Perfect and pink, dripping with the evidence of Caspian’s pleasure. Unable to control myself, I latch my lips over her inner thigh and bite.
She moans and throws her head back, fingers grasping for purchase.
I work my way up, doing exactly what Caspian ordered.
She spreads for me, not able to keep up her act of resistance.
Her thighs tremble as I lower to her. The first taste of her, sweet and silken, is intoxicating, but beneath it lingers a trace of him.
Caspian. It should make me rage. But it only makes me hungrier.
I run my tongue along her center, soaking wet and dripping. I lap it all eagerly into my mouth.
So fucking delicious. I delve deeper, fucking her with my tongue, until she’s crying out.
“Yes, my pet,” Caspian calls from below. “Use that scum of a prince for your pleasure. The only reason for his pitiful existence is to serve you.”
Rosalina moans, straining to reach down. With one hand, she grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me harder against her center.
I’m in fucking rapture. I open my mouth wide, taking as much of her as I can, sucking, licking, wanting each piece of her.
She writhes beneath my tongue, moaning into the dark, her fingers clutching the iron cage floor like it’s the only thing anchoring her to this realm.
And I taste her. Gods, I taste them. Caspian lingers on her skin, a haunting echo.
It sends a bolt of heat straight through me.
I love it. The wildness of it. The way our magic coils together in her, tangled and unrepentant.
She’s slick and sweet and soaked. I drag her to the edge, holding her open, savoring every shudder as she breaks apart, her words a delirium.
I pull back, her taste still warm on my lips. She is flushed, spent. Radiant.
I look down. The crowd is still watching.
Dozens of them. Hundreds. Their eyes glitter in the torchlight like predators at the edge of flame.
They watched all of it. Every gasp, every thrust, every cry of his name from her throat.
They watched me take her apart with my mouth, the intent for her to belong to no one but me.
I growl and shift my gaze to the beautiful prince on the throne.
“Very good,” he claps. “Now fuck her like the whore she is and send her back to me.”
A predator’s smile grows on my face as I stare at my wife, my lips still coated in her.
She’s dazed, mouth parted, cheeks flushed with the kind of heat that could burn through Winter. Her legs remain open in an offering—or a dare.
The crowd holds its breath. Caspian watches with a lazy, wicked smirk, his knuckles propping up his chin. This is his stage. But I am no one’s puppet.
“I said—” Caspian begins.
“I heard you,” I growl.
Then I lift her.
My hands slide under her thighs, pulling her against me in one swift, savage motion. She gasps, eyes flying wide as I press her back to the cold iron bars, her spine arching against them. Magic crackles in the air. Mine, hers, his. A trinity of ruin and desire.
“You’re mine,” I murmur, not loud enough for the crowd but enough for her. “My mate, my wife, my Rose.”
I feel her reply with every heartbeat, every breathless moan against my neck, every tremble of her limbs. We gaze at each other, both desperate. Below, the crowd jeers. Someone throws an empty goblet at the cage.
“Are you going to fuck her or stare at her, beast?” Caspian yells.
“Well, I suppose I’ll get on with it.” I smile at Rose and sink into her.
Her hands claw my arms, head thrown back against the bars, sweat-damp curls falling through them. And she screams, low and long, for every agonizing second it takes to slowly work my length into her. Her body strains to accommodate my size.
“You took him, you can take me,” I growl, anger and possessiveness coursing through my words. A part of my act.
But I’m not expecting the thrill of desire that flows through our bond at those words. I drop my head to her neck and bite down. You like it hard and rough, Rose?
She does, Caspian purrs. Don’t go easy on her, Kel.
Rosalina meets my gaze, taking my face in her hands. “He played with me, Kel,” she says. “You can destroy me.”
Something inside me snaps. My jaw clenches, breath ragged as I drag her tighter against me, the hard line of my body flush with hers.
My eyes flick to the crowd, then back to her—only her.
I brace a hand behind her head, the other running up her thigh with a reverent desperation.
She wants this. She wants me like this. I want to ruin her beautifully.
“Let them watch. Let them see how you fall apart for me,” I growl and bite her bottom lip between my teeth. “By the end of this, you won’t remember how to stand, let alone his name.”
My grip tightens on her hips, fingers bruising. My cock throbs with the need to claim, to prove. I slam her back against the bars, metal rattling with the force, and my mouth crashes into hers like a storm. I don’t think. I just take. Because she asked. And because I can’t fucking help it.
I move hard inside her. The world collapses into this: her legs wrapped around me, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her lips on my throat.
The cage swings on its shadow tether, but I keep us steady.
Below, the crowd watches like wolves starved for blood.
But I’m not performing for them. Not anymore.
Because even with her soaked in another man’s power, she shines like moonlight on snow, radiant and bright and mine.
I press my forehead to hers, our breaths tangling. Her eyes are soft, and they search my own.
“I belong to you, Rose,” I whisper against her skin.
“No,” she rasps. “We belong to each other.”
And as I move—slowly now, reverently despite the sharp edges of need—the cage, the crowd, the prince on his throne all blur into nothing. Let the world bear witness if it must.
But what they see is not a claiming.
It is a covenant.
Her back arches against the iron bars, spine bending like a drawn bow, legs locked around my waist as I drive into her again and again, each thrust a vow, a punishment, a plea, an act.
Her nails drag down my shoulders, a cry catching in her throat, and I don’t know where she ends and I begin anymore.
The cage rattles with every movement.
I shouldn’t be lost in her like this. Not with everyone watching.
But gods help me, I am.
Below us, Caspian gazes from his throne, wineglass lazily swirling in his hand, lips curved in a smile. He watches as if he’s orchestrated the whole thing, and in a way, he has. We’re dancing right to the rhythm of his strings.
But what a fucking wonderful dance it is.
“Kel,” Rosalina breathes.
“You’re not supposed to enjoy this, remember?” I whisper.
“I–I…” Her face scrunches as she tries to suppress a moan of pleasure. “But you feel so good.”
I slam into her again, groaning as the tension builds in me, molten and brutal. Her head falls back with a gasp, her body trembling around me, pulsing with the heat of release just on the edge.
I grip the bars, my mouth finding hers in a kiss that’s all teeth.
“That’s it, pet,” Caspian calls. “Milk the Winter Prince of his cum and fly back to me.”
“Yes, Prince of Thorns,” Rosalina answers.
“You’re close,” I whisper between her breasts. I kiss my way up to her lips. “Come with me.”
And she does.
Her cry splits the dark, spine arching hard as she shatters around me, her magic surging like a storm. And I follow, thrusting once, twice more, and the world breaks open.
My release hits, molten and shaking, stars bursting behind my eyes. I bury my face in her neck, riding it out, trying not to fall apart entirely.
But I do.
We fall together.
Her breathing syncs with mine. Her magic twines with mine. The cage creaks beneath us, stilling.
And from below, Caspian smiles, soft and satisfied. “Well done, my wicked things.”