Astelion POV
The heavy, haunted look in Kiono's eyes melted, replaced by a dark, wicked grin that sent a fresh spike of heat straight to my lower stomach. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The easy, protective commander was gone again, swallowed up by a raw, unhinged hunger that wasn't anywhere near finished with me.
With one fluid, heavy movement, he gripped my waist and rolled me effortlessly onto my left side, turning my back to his chest. The contrast of the cool silk sheets against my front and his scalding, sweaty skin pressing into my back. Before I could even adjust to the shift, Kiono reached down and grabbed my right ankle, hoisting my leg high into the air and pinning it against his side, completely baring my swollen, dripping vagina to him.
He didn't slide inside me right away. He wanted to torture me.
His large hand slid down between my thighs, fingers slick with the messy pooling of our combined fluids from the last round. He started to play with me, his thumb heavy and ruthless as it ground against my hyper-sensitive clit, while two of his long fingers slid deep inside my soaking wet vagina. The deep, wet friction was so loud in the quiet room, matching rhythm to the steady beat of our heart.
"Kiono!" I sobbed out, my head thrashing against the pillow as my body violently arched.
"Shh," he growled against my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my lobe as his fingers quickened their pace, pumping into me with a relentless speed that had me completely trapped. "Take it, Astelion."
He drove me wild, his thumb circling and pressing until my vision went completely black. My vaginal walls clamped down tight around his fingers, pulsing frantically as my fourth orgasm tore through me, a fresh wave of wet cream spilling out over his hand. He slip out his fingers and sucked it clean.
I was shaking, completely undone, but Kiono didn't give me a second to breathe.
The moment my contractions started to fade, he lined up his thick, pulsating dick still rock hard and glistening—and shoved himself deeply inside me from behind. The sudden, blunt fullness made me scream into the empty room, my nails digging trenches into the mattress as he began a brutal, sideways rhythm. Every heavy thrust hit my g-spot with an agonizing precision. He held my leg high, using his leverage to drive himself all the way to the end of my womb, the raw, wet slaps of our skin colliding echoing like a song rhythm between the walls.
I was completely helpless against him, my body taking the full, unfiltered force of his endurance. He rolled his hips into mine, his grip on my waist so tight it was bruising, forcing me into a frantic pace until the friction sent me spiraling right back over the edge. I came again, my fifth release melting around his thick length, my high-pitched cries filling the air.
He let out a low, satisfied roar against my neck, but his stamina was terrifying. He wasn't done.
Before I could even collapse, he pulled himself out with a slick, wet pop. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me entirely off the bed, lifting my weight into his arms as he stood up. I gasped, he carried me over to the large vanity mirror on the far wall.
He pinned my back against his solid chest, holding me up effortlessly in the air facing forward, forcing me to look at the absolute mess we had made of each other. My hair and eyes had revert back to their original colors. Sweat-soaked disaster clinging to my bare shoulders, my chest was completely flushed and marked with his bites, and my eyes glassy with pure submission.
"Look at yourself," Kiono panted, he whisper against my ear as he lifted one of my legs, opening me completely in the mirror's reflection. "Look at how open you are for me."
I watched in a daze as he guided his thick head back to my dripping entry and drove himself upward, burying his entire length inside me while we stood there. The visual was too much. The sensation, the pain, seeing his thick dick disappear into me, watching the brutal friction of his heavy thrusts lifting my body in his arms, completely broke my brain.
He pounded into me from below, his raw strength holding me steady as he delivered fast, unyielding thrusts that shook my entire frame. I watched my own breasts bounce against his hands, watched the desperate, tight expression on his face in the glass as he used me to the absolute limit. The sheer, overstimulation of the mirror destroyed whatever sanity I had left. My vagina walls gripped him with a final, violent desperation, and I shattered for the sixth time, a loud, broken scream tearing from my throat as my body went entirely limp in his hold.
I was so exhausted, so completely spent and drained of energy, that my eyes fluttered shut the moment he carried me back to the bed. He laid me down gently, pulling me back into the crook of his arm, and I fell into a deep, dead sleep almost instantly, my head resting heavy against his chest.
Kiono watched me drop off, his breathing still ragged, his body still burning with the residual heat of his own release. He looked down at my peaceful, exhausted face, the starlight ring glinting on my finger amidst the messy sheets.
With a low, quiet groan of absolute surrender, his hand slid down to his own hardened length. Keeping his eyes locked on me, he finished himself off with a few fast, heavy strokes, his hot cum spilling over his fingers before he wiped it away.
Once he was clear, he settled back down into the mattress. He wrapped his, protective arms tightly around my waist, pulling my limp body secure against his chest, and closed his eyes finally finding his own quiet sleep.
Kiono POV
For a moment—only a moment—the world was quiet.
I held her close, the heavy scent of sex and crushed roses wrapping around us like a shield against the rest of the world. Her skin was warm, damp with sweat, and completely relaxed against my chest. I allowed myself to simply breathe, my heart slowing its frantic pace as I looked down at the ring resting on her finger. She was mine. We had survived the storm.
Then, something cold and sharp slipped into my mind.
"Report to the palace."
Castel's voice. It was not spoken aloud. It did not travel through the air or echo in the quiet bedroom. It slid into my consciousness like a serrated blade, sharp, unmistakable, and dripping with an absolute, casual authority.
My jaw tightened instantly. A spike of pure, defensive fury flared in my gut, but I forced my muscles not to lock. I didn't stop. I refused to let that bastard take this moment from us. Instead, I leaned down and kissed Astelion again, forcing my movements to slow down, my hand resting heavily against the soft curve of her waist.
But she felt it immediately. The change.
I tried to mask it, but the sudden mental intrusion tore my focus away. My hand stopped holding her body with that desperate, burning hunger from before. My movements became distracted, distant, as I desperately tried to build a psychic wall to shove Castel out of my head. My thoughts were somewhere else, and Astelion sensed it. She pulled back slightly, her glassy eyes searching mine with a faint touch of confusion.
But Castel did not leave. He lingered in the shadows of my mind, mocking my silence.
"Report to the palace."
The command pressed harder this time, a heavy, weight that vibrated behind my eyes. I ignored it, gritting my teeth as I slid my hand around her waist, my fingers brushing gently through her tangled white hair. I leaned down, dragging my lips across her jaw, her flushed cheek, and the corner of her mouth, trying to drown out the intrusion with the taste of her.
Then Castel's voice returned again, colder now, stripping away any illusion of patience.
"Report to the palace... or I will rip apart your pretty little toy of yours."
Silence fell in my mind as the connection snapped shut. My entire body went dead still. He meant every word.
The anger came quickly a blinding, roaring wave of violence that threatened to make the entire house shake all over again. The warmth evaporated from my skin, replaced by a rigid, lethal tension. I pulled away from her suddenly, letting out a low, ragged groan of absolute frustration as I sat up.
She blinked up at me from the pillows, her face flushed, looking utterly confused and exhausted from the hours we had just spent tearing into each other.
"What—?" she breathed, her voice raspy.
I rubbed a heavy hand down my face, trying to wipe away the murderous intent before looking back at her. I hated the fact that I had to bring the palace into this room. "I have to report to Castel."
Her brows knit together, the afterglow completely shattering. "Right now?"
"I know," I said, the apology immediate and heavy in my chest. I leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, wishing I could undo the whiplash of the last few minutes. "I'm sorry."
She studied my face for a long moment, seeing the tight line of my jaw, before sighing quietly. "Well... if you must go." She rolled her eyes in pure annoyance, a flash of her usual defiance returning.
I tilted my head slightly, looking at how drained her body was beneath the sheets. "Stay and rest."
"I have to come with you. I am to be the new maid, remember?"
"You look exhausted," I countered gently, my hand brushing her shoulder. "I don't want to push you."
She hesitated for a moment, weighing her own fatigue against whatever stubborn drive was pushing her to stay by my side. Then, she nodded. "I'm okay with going."
She braced her hands against the mattress, slightly pushing herself up off the bed. I stood up, the cool air hitting my bare skin, and crossed the room, disappearing briefly. I searched the wardrobe until my fingers found the heavy fabric I had hidden away. When I returned to the bedside, I was holding a folded dress. The palace maid uniform. I held it out to her.
"This is your uniform."
She took the dark, plain fabric from my hands and immediately made an exaggerated, dramatic face, sticking her tongue out at me in pure disgust. A genuine laugh broke through my grim mood.
While she looked over the dress, I walked into the bathroom. I turned the handles, drawing a fresh, steaming bath to wash away the sweat and fluids of our morning. Walking back into the bedroom, I used a subtle flicker of my telekinesis to clean up the space lifting the discarded tray, gathering the clothes scattered across the floor, and disposing of the ruined, crushed rose petals with a swift thought.
I walked back to the edge of the bed, reached down, and scooped her entirely into my arms, lifting her out of the sheets.
"Really, you don't have to come today," I murmured against her hair as I carried her weight.
"I want to," she insisted, her fingers curling into my shoulder.
I brought her into the steaming bathroom and lowered her gently into the warm water of the tub. She let out a soft sigh as the heat hit her sore muscles. I leaned down, kissing the top of her head. "I'll get ready as well."
I stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door, giving her privacy while I prepared for the hell waiting for us at the palace. It took me forty minutes to wash, clear my head, and steel myself behind the walls I had built over a lifetime.
When I returned, I was no longer the man who had knelt in a sea of flowers. I was wearing my official military uniform heavy black fabric fitted perfectly to my broad frame, the intricate gold dragon embroidery catching the morning sunlight along my chest and sleeves, a symbol of the blade I wielded for the crown.
Astelion was standing near the mirror. As I looked at her reflection, a heavy pang of guilt hit my chest. She looked drained, her posture slightly slumped and her skin pale compared to her usual vibrant, luminous self. The intensity of the morning had clearly taken a physical toll on her, and I hated myself for allowing Castel to drag her out of bed like this.
The maid dress was on, but it was unfastened in the back, the dark fabric gaping open. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine in the glass.
"Can you close it?"
I walked toward her slowly, my heavy boots thudding softly against the floor. As I closed the distance, my eyes lingered on her—not rudely, not greedily, but with a deep, quiet appreciation. I took in the elegant curve of her shoulders and the line of her bare back.
Tracing down her spine was a new mark a vivid spirit tattoo of a snake intertwined with sharp, thorns. It hadn't been there a few hours ago. I realized, with a quiet hum of wonder, that she was slowly revealing her true self to me, piece by hidden piece, letting her real skin surface now that the secret was out.
I stepped directly behind her, the warmth of her body radiating against my uniform. Instead of reaching for the zipper immediately, I leaned down, my lips pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her bare shoulder, right above the origin of the thorns.
Then, my fingers caught the metal tab, and I gently zipped the dress closed, sealing her inside the disguise.
She reached onto the counter and handed me a simple hair tie. "Do you mind helping me put my hair up?"
"Not at all." I took the tie without hesitation.
Standing behind her again, I gathered the thick mass of her pure white hair the strands still tipped with vibrant streaks of red at the ends into my hands. "You have to change back before we leave," I reminded her softly, my fingers smoothing the wild locks.
But instead of immediately tying it back, the proximity pulled at me. I leaned forward, my lips brushing slowly along the side of her neck, tasting the warmth of her bath. Astelion gasped softly, her fingers instantly gripping the edge of the wooden dresser as a quiet, breathless sound escaped her lips.
I smiled slightly against her skin, feeling the frantic flutter of her pulse. I kissed her neck once more, a final luxury, before properly gathering her hair. My hands moved carefully, collecting the stark white strands and pulling them tightly together. When I finished securing it into a neat, ponytail, I stepped back.
"Anything else?"
She turned around sharply and punched me lightly in the arm, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. "You're teasing me."
That only made me laugh, the sound breaking the final remnants of the morning's tension. But as the laughter faded, reality settled back into the room.
"Time to go," I whispered.
Astelion closed her eyes, taking a deep, centering breath. I watched as her power rippled silently over her form. The brilliant, white of her hair bled away, darkening inch by inch until it was a flat, ordinary black. The striking, mismatched violet and silver of her eyes faded, shifting into a dull, common brown. The luminous, dangerous creature I love vanished beneath the illusion of a simple, unassuming palace maid.
I walked toward the open patio doors and pushed them wider, letting the bright, crisp sunlight spill across the floor. I turned back to her and held out my hand.
"Ready?"
Astelion walked toward me, her small hand slipping firmly into mine. We stepped out onto the stone balcony together, facing the horizon. Without another word, both of us focused our minds. The air around us began to shimmer and warp with psychic pressure. Telekinesis lifted us effortlessly from the balcony floor, defying gravity as the wind rushed to meet us.
Side by side, we rose into the wide, open sky, gliding silently toward the distant, gleaming towers of the palace.
At the Palace
The royal palace rose like an oppressive mountain of stone as we descended from the sky. The high-altitude wind tugged violently at the fabric of Astelion's maid dress, pulling loose strands of dark hair from the ponytail I had tied for her earlier. We guided our descent downward, landing softly, soundlessly, on the wide stone balcony just outside the grand entrance of the upper levels.
For a brief, lingering moment, Astelion's fingers remained tightly clasped in mine.
But the exact second our boots touched the polished, stone floor my fingers slipped from hers, smooth and deliberate. The warmth, the teasing laughter, and the protective softness of the bedroom vanished as if they had never existed. I pulled my hand back to my side, my posture snapping into a rigid, military salute-ready frame.
Astelion blinked in visible confusion, her brown eyes glancing up at me as she felt the sudden, freezing drop in the air between us. Only forty minutes ago, I had been kissing her neck, smiling at her reactions, and holding her as my fiancée.
Now, my expression had hardened into an impenetrable wall of ice. Cold. Professional. Lethal.
I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead on the heavy doors of the palace, my face completely blank as the Commander's mask locked into place. We were inside his walls now. And to keep her alive, I had to treat her like a stranger.