Page 42 of When Day Breaks

I use my grip on his shoulders to ground me as I work him in and out of me, desperate to relieve the pressure building. It doesn't take long before the both of us reach the peak of pleasure, grasping for each other like we want to rip each other open, skin for skin.

His eyes are heavy, twisted with dark wisps of smoke that grip the greens in them. I watch as blood spills from the wound in his neck and that's when my release reaches me in the most delirious way. I lean into his neck to muffle my intense screams of pleasure, tasting the blood that spilled there simultaneously. He grips me tighter while his own release pummels through him, his dick throbs against the clench of my pussy as he groans my name over and over.

I spend myself, flush and satiated against my husband feeling completely full yet entirely weak to the throes of my orgasm. I let my tongue lap gently at the blood on his skin while he finds his calm after the storm.

We are utter chaos, taunting and teasing each other with our sexual needs while in the midst of battle.

I pull away from him and start to feel the remnants of guilt eat at me slowly.

"I'm sorry," I say as I search eagerly for the silk sheet and wrap it around me before removing myself from his lap. I don't want him to think I used him; I don't want him to feel as if I'm leading him on. Last night was one thing, but this . . . this shouldn't have happened when we have business to attend to and so much more to figure out.

But something snaps in Rivian. I'm barely up on my feet before he has his pants back on and he is pushing me up against the wall.

It shakes me, the force of his actions, because I don't expect it. I make a mental note that I need to always be prepared for intrusion and violation of any kind.

My body is flush against the wall just as his is to me. His hand is tangled in my hair while the other palms the wall by my head. His face dipped down to mine, his eyes bleed with some kind of passionate rage while his tone lowers to a throaty warning.

"Don't you ever fucking apologize for taking what is owed to you. You are the queen of this castle and if you demand pleasure from your king, you take it proudly, Lucynda. Sorry is not a word in your vocabulary. Do you understand me?"

He was calm and sincere with me before. This . . . this is an intense need to put me in my place. But this doesn't seem to be out of need for control or out of pity or guilt for what has been done for me. This is because he believes me to be the rightful queen to this kingdom and all other trials and tribulations aside, he will see that I take the respect I am entitled to even when it comes to him.

"I understand," I whisper, trying to hide the slide unsubtly that grips my tone.

"Love me or hate me, you will demand my respect and I will give it to you without a fucking question. Don't ever let anyone treat you otherwise, little one." He backs up away from me and walks for the door.

I've never been told that I am owed something, let alone respect or demand. Yet, his attention on me feeds me these superficial ideas of just how powerful I am in this position. I won't abuse that power. Not intentionally. And asking for anything doesn't come naturally for me. But his threat has merealizing just how seriously I need to take this role no matter the ask.

"We're needed in fifteen minutes. I'll meet you in the Great Hall." Rivian leaves me against the wall and takes the air in my lungs with him.

As I watch him disappear, I'm stuck with two words ringing in my ears.

Love me.

Love me.

I thought I did.

Once.

I wanted to.

I think.

But I wanted him to feel it too.

And now…

I just don't know.

15

conclaves & chaos - part 1

Rivian

"They aren't happy," Zharus greets me as I round the corner of the entry into the great hall.

I look on to see that my brother, a few other guards from the castle—minus Kacian, seeing as he still hasn't recovered from his anger with me—face my Factotum and I.

---