14. Ivy
I ’ve never seen a naked man before. Though I can hardly imagine they all look the way Cillian does. As if his dark curls and eyes like fresh frost did not set him apart from others to begin with, he also had to be equipped with this perfectly proportioned body.
Well, mostly proportionate. His cock is the stuff of legends—a fabled longsword forged for the purpose of conquering worlds.
It seems unfair for the king to be so devastatingly beautiful—so marvelously constructed in every way. But who am I to complain when Fate has gifted me this tantalizing specimen for a mate? Better I enjoy the spoils of his attention.
After tonight, I’m acutely aware of how much Cillian desires me. More so, the effect his hunger has on my own body can’t be ignored. My thighs are a mess, wet with the growing need to feel my alpha inside me. Especially after his most recent admission.
I’ve never placed much importance on my maidenhood, and I don’t intend to start now. I waited simply because the hyenas of the Lucernian court and their loose lips ensured no tumble in the sheets would remain private.
None of the nobles tempted me enough to deal with the scandal that would surely ensue. And dalliances with some handsome palace guard, while enticing, presented a version of reality too far out of my reach. While my most secret wish has always been a pack of my own, that life was for the guards, the staff, all the common, normal people and never me.
But now, knowing Cillian and I will be experiencing this together for the first time, I’m gleeful over having waited. It pleases my omega heart that my alpha will only have memories of me.
Of course, I wouldn’t have thought less of him for exploring before our marriage. With his stunning face, good nature, and a rather spectacular cock, I can’t imagine he didn’t have options. But tonight, I won’t dwell on the men or women who might have tempted Cillian into bedding them. I want only to focus on the sensual banter my new husband offers me, the feel of his skin on mine, and this union of our bodies.
“We can start slowly. I want to take my time and enjoy you,” Cillian says, smiling down at me with softness in his gaze.
Slowly may very well kill me. Already, the imprint of him against my stomach has heat rising within me. This insatiable ache has plagued me this past year, but that won’t stop me from allowing my alpha to savor me.
“Kiss me,” I breathe, eager to dive back into the pit of flames.
“With pleasure,” my alpha growls.
As Cillian’s mouth settles on mine, one of his hands moves to the nape of my neck, gripping to hold me steady. The other rests above my head to shoulder some of his weight, though I would gladly be smothered by the mass of my alpha.
He smells so wonderful, like wild sea-kissed winds off the stunning Namarian coastline. It calls to something vital within me. A need to feel free and unfettered by the rules of my birth.
When Cillian deepens our kiss and his tongue finds mine, an errant thought creeps in. Wouldn’t it be grand—so delicious —if I could enjoy the king’s mouth in tandem with another’s elsewhere on my body? What if Oran were here to kiss my neck and whisper more of the filth he offered so freely before?
I never believed such talk would make my blood run as hot as it had, but I was sorely mistaken. What I wouldn’t give to have him whispering in my ear about how much he and Cillian crave me. Of how much they wish to please, to touch, to taste me.
Perhaps we could also make room for another; a very large, watchful alpha who would be all too pleased to wait his turn to have me.
Gods, my skin is on fire.
Cradling my alpha tightly between my thighs, I moan as the hard press of his wanting slides along the seam of me. My mate is insistent now, letting his hand trail down my body to explore the expanse of my sweat dappled skin. He groans, whimpers , as he rocks against my sex, slick in anticipation to receive him.
Does he feel this heat? How can he stand this ache?
“Fuck, Ivy, your scent. It’s so— fuck . I can practically taste you.”
The wet sounds of him thrusting against me, his lips as they move to my neck—all kindling to the fire enveloping me. I’ve never in all my life felt something so consuming, so euphoric as this. A bright and beautiful bliss bubbles in my chest, bursting forward until I scream.
The sound itself is terrifying, but Cillian’s eyes are wild with the realization that he’s given me such intense pleasure. “ Omega . Did you just?—”
“More,” I cry. The slow canting of my hips is pathetic but I don’t care. I want to feel him rubbing against me.
Lust has taken hold of my mind, and I’m far too tempted to turn over and present for him so he finally fucks me. Is it normal to feel this manic? Should I be ashamed?
Damn it all, I don’t care so long as it gets me stuffed full of my mate.
“Cillian, more. Please, please, please.”
Pitiful, pitiful pleading as my breaths come quicker, my heartbeat a storm of thunderous pounding.
“More?” he rasps, rambling on. “You’re so very wet, omega. So slick and ready, aren’t you? Do you want me to take your sweet cunt now?”
Cillian’s words continue to spill— unfettered —unable to be contained. “Should I prepare you more? Use my fingers, my mouth—kiss you everywhere?”
That sounds divine, but every second he’s not inside me is another that I’m free-falling into a chasm of untenable fire. “You were made for me,” I tell him. “You won’t hurt me.”
My mate groans, consumed by the reminder of what we are to each other. “You can handle me, omega? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes! Just— please .”
Some other time he may indulge me in whatever manner he desires. But now, I need him like I need my next breath.
Cillian grunts, rising up on his knees like some god-king assessing his conquest. His pupils are blown out, his eyes now focused on the rapid heaving of my breasts, and the way he licks his lips nearly has me begging for his tongue on me after all.
“Tell me if you don’t enjoy something, my heart. I’ll stop right away.”
Gods, this man, this darling alpha and his care for me—I’m mad for him. For his sweet letters, his scent, and the way he looks at me like I’m his entire world. How could I resist these stirrings of love?
My first love.
“ Alpha ,” I plead—longing and need laced in every letter.
His acknowledgment is a shaky exhale as he grabs his cock to press at my center. Then, a slight flex of his trim hips—just a testing, teasing thrust to breach the first tight inch of me.
“Fuck,” he huffs, his shoulders curling inwards as he grips my hips to steady himself before pushing forward. “ I’ll die, Ivy. I’ll die inside of you. It’s too good.”
“Please don’t die,” I whine, arching my back. The movement is meant to entice him and distract myself from the delicious stretch each tentative drive brings. “Not before I’ve had my first knot.”
Cillian laughs, incredulous. “I’ll give you a knot, darling. As many as you damn well please.”
Then, a final stroke. Long, swift— powerful . The sensation pushes the breath from my lungs, only for my alpha to steal it with his lips. As he settles deep inside me, he drapes his body over mine, sealing this profoundly perfect moment with a kiss that’s both gentle and starving all at once.
Everything about the way we come together is bliss: the fullness of Cillian inside me, the way his lips call passion and reverence to mind, the slow rolling of his hips. I break our kiss for the sheer, overwhelming need to throw back my head and bare my neck to this alpha.
He spoke of worshiping me earlier, but I offer my supplication just the same—surrendering myself in the most vital way.
Cillian is panting, practically moaning at the offering, and wastes no time in decorating my throat with his devotion. Kissing, licking, and biting, but not so deep that the bond settles, all while he moves in me with unhurried, purposeful vigor.
“I’ll never recover from this, omega. You are everything. More even. Beyond comprehension. When you’re ready, I’ll bite and bond you—never let you go.”
My head is swimming, my limbs loose as pleasure seeps like heated, liquid silk through my veins. All sense, everything I knew before is gone. In its place exists only this, only us.
“More, alpha,” I beg, needing to feel him spill inside me while I burst once more.
“Ask and you shall receive,” Cillian rasps.
He moves with shocking ease, wrapping his arms behind my back to flip the position of our bodies. He settles us so his back rests against the headboard, and I’m perched in his lap, facing him.
I feel like a queen on my throne. A beautiful fucking throne, indeed.
The look in my mate’s eyes is reverent, feral —like he’s traversing the line of wild surrender to the base part of his being. The alpha residing in his soul wants to break free and claim his omega bride.
His large hands grip my backside, moving me smoothly up and down the length of him. I’m hot everywhere all at once, mindless at the thought of being both used and savored.
When I tighten around him, Cillian’s eyes roll back, and he buries his face against my chest. There he bites, sucks— teases —my nipples, while relentlessly pounding into the wet heat of my sex. Everything but my alpha is a blur, and I’m no match for the magnitude of all he offers. As I shatter around him, all semblance of sanity is swept away by the waves of this unending pleasure.
“I’m going to knot you now, omega. Going to fill this sweet cunt.” He rambles with rapturous possession dripping from each word. “You’re mine. Do you understand? Mine to fuck. Mine to please. Just mine .”
The intrusion of his swelling knot as it locks into me has me screaming. Pleasure, pain, surprise— so all-consuming I can’t help but weep. His shallow, rough thrusts tease every sensitive nerve until the warmth of his release fills me—the rush of his breath warming my unbitten neck.
“I’ll cherish you until the end of time, Ivy. My beautiful fate.”
I can’t respond for fear of more tears and garbled nonsense. My body is leaden. My heart is full with this budding feeling of love, and my soul vibrates with the profound bliss that is having my fated alpha so thoroughly entranced by me.
It’s enough that I’m scared of the havoc losing him would reap on my heart. After this, I’m certain I would do almost anything to keep Cillian at my side.
I only hope this is not all some grand illusion. Is this how my mother felt for my father at first? Is that why she continued to welcome him into her arms after all his lies and indiscretions? Am I dooming myself to the same fate, or can I truly be this happy?
Soft kisses tickle my breasts, my neck, the corner of my mouth until I’m swept away from my catastrophizing by his soft lips. Cillian rocks me on his knot, sparking little bouts of bliss inside me. Moaning—spasming around him again, and again , until I can no longer breathe.
“Perfect,” he whispers.
“Yes,” I manage at long last—breathless. “Yes, perfect.”
Cillian pulls back to regard me. His eyes are shining with pride—with tender love—and I almost feel shy for how intimate it is to be locked together in this way. Every subtle shift brings new pleasure—every kiss further binds me to my husband.
“Are you feeling thoroughly worshiped, goddess? Has your subject pleased you well?” Cillian muses, seeking praise.
Cheeky alpha.
“As if you couldn’t tell, I very much enjoyed it.”
“Yes, but are you fulfilled, my heart?”
“I’m truly full, husband.” I laugh, which only serves to make him groan. “Knotting is…”
“Fucking grand,” he moans.
We laugh, kiss, hold each other until his knot releases us. My alpha is quick to wrap me in his arms, letting my head rest on his chest so I can feel the way his heart beats for me.
“Stay in my chambers with me, Ivy. From this night on, I don’t ever want to be parted from you.”
“Yes,” I whisper, a grin on my lips.
Cillian hums, pleased by my easy acceptance. “Sleep for now, omega. But we’re certainly far from finished.”
The edge in his tone ignites an ache between my legs, tempting me to take him on this very instant. But I do as my alpha says and reach for what small rest I can grab before he wakes me again.
We have a long night of exploration ahead, and a year of missing each other to make up for.