Chapter Eight #2
Through it all, I keep her gaze locked with mine, forcing her to acknowledge that her new husband is fucking her, claiming that tight cunt of hers and controlling her orgasm.
Her hatred never wavers, but other emotions join it, unwilling pleasure, confusion, and beneath it all, a deep-seated rage that nearly matches my own.
"Say my name," I demand as I feel her body convulsing with ecstasy once again, responding despite her hatred. "Say it."
"Fuck you, go to hell!" she roars, golden eyes blazing with contempt even as her body arches against mine, slowly breaking.
Then I cum, ejaculating deep inside her, claiming every inch of her body, filling her with my shadows and darkness.
This pleasure is fucking lethal and she's completely at my mercy.
"Fine, hatun, I will keep fucking you until you scream my name with pleasure," I promise her and then pull away, then grab her hips and turn her around, so she's on all fours. This time, she's not fighting to get away; she just turns her head to meet my eyes.
"Keep dreaming, Shadow Lord," she spits, so I run my hand over the delicate skin of her ass, then I slap it hard.
Fuck, I'm so hard instantly. She releases a whimper that shoots through my core like a lightning bolt.
Her arousal is dripping down her inner thighs, so I slap it again, and again until she's a whimpering mess.
"I can keep doing this all night long, hatun ," I whisper and then slap her ass harder.
She's panting for air, red marks covering her ass as I situate myself behind her, my cock nudges her entrance slowly as I try to hold myself back, but this is proving difficult.
"Say you want me to ram deep inside your needy cunt, say it! "
I push a few inches in slowly, ready to bury myself into the hilt, but not without her begging for my cock first.
"No, I will never want you," she says, but her voice is breaking, her resistance is melting as her pussy pulsates with steady beats of her heart.
I laugh and then drive myself inside her, but then still.
This is fucking torture, but I want her to scream my name when she comes for me, otherwise I won't end this.
I grip her hips tighter, my nails digging into her skin as I lower my head and start planting soft kisses on her back.
She arches her head, tries to push her hips, so I get deeper, but I'm not letting it happen.
"Tell me what you want, hatun ," I ask through gritted teeth as I want to pound into her until she is begging to stop. She's right on the edge, and I’m deliberately not moving inside her while blood pounds in my chest.
"Just fuck me... fuck me now," she finally says, her voice filled with venom.
I smile. "Not good enough," I mutter, then drag my finger over the crack of her ass until she shudders. "Are you going to scream my name?"
"Please ... Kaan, fuck me," she begs and that has me breaking. I thrust into her hard and fast, releasing an animalistic growl of satisfaction. I grip her hips painfully, driving myself into her tight drenched pussy over and over again. Fuck, she's magnificent as she moans .
"You're driving me insane hatun , but you take my cock so well," I tell her, then grab her upward, her back slaps into my chest as I keep fucking her, my hands are squeezing her tits, gripping and playing with the nipples as she pants for air.
"Harder ... please, Kaan harder," she begs, finally letting go of her pretense. I knew the real filthy Nesilhan was there somewhere.
"Your wish is my command," I say and then fuck her harder, faster, the sound of slapping bodies fills the room as I push her back to the mattress.
I'm fucking intoxicated by her scent, by her light.
My own shadows wrap around her, caressing and probing her erect nipples.
I keep pounding my cock into her and then within moments we are both coming.
Nesilhan finally screams my fucking name, as I ejaculate myself deep inside her cunt.
Her screams are music to my ears, her moans make me feel like I'm levitating.
When it's over and we lie tangled in black silk sheets, both of us panting for air, my shadows moving around us slowly, shifting and settling.
I sense something fundamental shift in our connection.
The blood bond has solidified, becoming a permanent bridge between our magic and our emotions.
I can feel her exhaustion, her self-loathing, her renewed hatred, all of it crystal clear across the bond we now share.
I prop myself up on one elbow, trying to catch my fucking breath at the same time, studying her in the shifting shadows.
Her face is turned away from me, her body rigid despite her physical exhaustion.
Marks from my hands, my mouth, my shadows decorate her golden skin—temporary brands of possession that satisfy something primal in me.
I've had countless women over the centuries, but something about this one is different. Even with Isil, I have never bonded with her, but she came to me willingly. Nesilhan, on the other hand, was forced into this marriage and bond.
The intensity of her hatred, the quality of her defiance, the way her magic interacts with mine, it's unlike anything I've experienced before. I want more. I want all of her, not just her body, but her surrender, her submission, her soul.
The realization is unsettling.
"You know," I observe, breaking the heavy silence, "most brides cry on their wedding night, but you're not like them. You tried to kill me with hairpins, then practically broke my fucking collarbone with your knee. I think we're off to a promising start."
She doesn't respond, but I feel the spike of renewed anger through our bond.
I lean down and start tracing the line of her spine with one finger, watching goosebumps rise in its wake.
"Your light magic is... unusual," I continue, trailing my hand to a scratch she left on my arm.
"Too aggressive for standard Light Court training.
Wonder what Erlik would say if he could see how his son is failing to tame a mere light-bearer's daughter. "
"Your father?" she asks, curiosity momentarily overwhelming her hatred.
"The one and only," I reply, letting shadows flicker between my fingers. I detest my own father with every fiber of my magic. "The Lord of Darkness himself. Did your father not tell you who you were marrying? The son of Erlik, the ruler of Karanlik, the Shadow Realm that borders your homeland?"
Her silence is answer enough. I laugh softly. "Seems there's much they didn't tell you."
"You'll never know my secrets," she says, her voice raw.
"I've now seen—and felt—most of your secrets, hatun ," I counter, deliberately provocative. "The bond leaves little hidden between us."
She turns to face me then, eyes blazing, a magnificent vision of fury with her dark hair spilling across the black silk. "You know nothing about me."
"I know you respond to shadow magic with remarkable.
.. sensitivity," I reply with a smirk, running a hand possessively down her side.
"I know your body contradicts your mind in the most delightful fucking ways.
And I know—" I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear, my breath hot against her skin, "—that despite your hatred, you're curious about what else the bond might reveal. "
Her scent is intoxicating, light and darkness mingling together, her sweat and mine, the lingering evidence of what just happened between us.
I want to bury my face in her neck, breathe her in again, mark her throat with my teeth.
The intensity of this desire unsettles me; I'm not accustomed to wanting someone so desperately after having had them once.
"The only thing I'm curious about," she says with quiet venom, breaking into my thoughts, "is how long it will take me to kill you."
I laugh, genuinely delighted by her continued defiance even now. "Hmm, yet another thing we have in common," I muse, shadows coiling lazily around us, sliding across her skin in possessive patterns. "A shared fascination with death. Perhaps this marriage has potential after all."
She attempts to move away, but my shadows hold her in place, wrapping around her wrists and ankles.
"Unfortunately for your murderous ambitions, the blood bond makes it rather difficult for either of us to kill the other without suffering consequences.
Didn't your father mention that little detail?
Or was he too focused on using you as his weapon to bother with inconvenient truths? "
The flash of surprise in her eyes tells me he didn't. How interesting.
"If I die violently," I explain, tracing the curve of her breast with one finger, "you'll feel every moment of my death as if it were your own.
And vice versa, of course. The blood bond links our life forces together, it's why such bonds are rarely formed.
The magic strengthens both participants, but at a terrible price.
A rather effective matrimonial safeguard, don't you think? The pain would be... never-ending."
"You're lying," she whispers, but uncertainty clouds the bond between us.
"The blood bond doesn't permit lies, hatun .
Test it if you don't believe me." I lean closer, inhaling the scent of her hair.
"Try to kill me if you must, it would be fucking amusing to watch you try, but know that success means your own suffering.
" I trace the curve of her cheek with one finger, then slide my hand to her throat, feeling her pulse hammer beneath my palm.
"We're bound now, for better or worse. Till death do us part. .. and beyond."
As my shadows begin to dance across her skin once more, I feel her renewed hatred through our bond, pure and perfect in its intensity.
But there's something else too, something she's trying desperately to hide from herself as much as from me: a reluctant fascination with the power now flowing between us, the unique magic created when shadow and light merge.
I should be satisfied with what I've taken, but I'm not.
Not even close. The sight of her marked by my hands, the memory of her unwilling responses, the taste of her still on my tongue, none of it is enough.
I want more. I want everything. The realization hits me with unexpected force: I could become obsessed with this woman.
She turns her head, golden eyes burning into mine. "When I finally figure out how to kill you, Kaan Bey, I won't use poison or magic. I'll use a kilic , and I'll look into your eyes as the light leaves them. Just as you watched Aslan die, the man I loved."
I laugh, both aroused and impressed by her promise. "Now that was almost romantic. Should I be flattered that you're already planning such an intimate death for me? Most wives just fantasize about pushing their husbands down stairs."
By morning, she may still hate me. She will certainly still plot my demise. But she will do so as mine, bound by blood, by magic, and by the knowledge that her body has betrayed her even as her mind rebels.
And for now, that's victory enough. Tomorrow, I'll begin discovering exactly what other secrets she's hiding beneath that diplomat's daughter facade. The hunt for her true self has only just begun, and I find myself looking forward to it with an eagerness I haven't felt in centuries.
Nesilhan of House Solari—my enemy, my partner, my obsession.