Page 44 of Red Queen

“Mind back here. I know you’re plotting. You won’t get rid of me, Eleanna. Not ever. Not now you’ve come to me again.”

Before I can say a thing, he grabs my hips and slams into me. I quiver, my pussy pulsates around the invasion, and I relish the stretch from his hard, thick pole. He pulls out and slams back in, hitting me deep, unleashing a primal urgency made of hatred, need, and desire, all fueling the excitement. And I relish each thrust. I’ve never felt more alive, more real, than in this moment with my sworn enemy.

I feel every ridge of his shaft as it stretches me, breaching the tight confines of my body. It’s a sensation that leaves me gasping for breath, craving more of his flesh inside me.

As he pounds me with relentless intensity, I dig my nails into the bed, loving how it hurts so good how the pleasure inside grows, blooms, but doesn’t explode. Our moans and growls become one single primal sound, echoing the thunderous roar of my pounding heart.

His movements are wild, uncontrollable. With each fierce thrust, I push back to meet him, get more of him, matching the rhythm of his pounding.

The pain and pleasure create an intoxicating cocktail of sensations that leave me gasping for more. He starts to hammer into me and I orgasm the world around me erupting into pure pleasure.

His fingers grip me tight and he cries out, his cock throbbing inside me as he comes, too. I lie there, panting as he collapses over me, drawing me to him as he pulls out. I turn, look at him and our eyes meet. While we may still be rivals tomorrow, tonight, in this moment, we are a matched set of broken halves finally made whole.

“Alexandru,” I breathe out, wanting…

I want his blood. I want him again. They think I’m cold and unyielding so many of my people, including the humans. I’m feared. Mighty. But right now, I’m anything but that. Right now, I’m small and warm and the closest to real life I’ve felt. What’s the word? Fragile.

I don’t like it.

His cock hardens again. I trace the line of his chiseled jaw with my fingertips, feeling the power radiating from him. He enters me once more, and the sounds of our union fill the room—skin against skin, labored breaths, and the creaking of the bed as it struggles to withstand the force of our passion.

“Eleanna,” he growls, his voice muffled against the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough without breaking the surface.

The need is there, that fragility, too, the urge to be touched. All of that combines into something like an orgasm. The sensation is all-consuming, powerful enough to make me forget the centuries-long animosity between us.

The tension coils tighter within me, wound up by his relentless pursuit of my pleasure, each movement bringing me closer to the edge. He reaches down and strokes and teases my clit, sending everything up on a sharp trajectory as intense sensation spirals through me.

“More,” I command.

His touch becomes more insistent, his pace quickening as if he, too, is racing toward some unseen finish line.

There’s an understanding that words could never capture. This isn’t tenderness; it’s a battle, each of us determined to outlast the other yet equally desperate for our mutual surrender.

Just as the crescendo builds, the thrum of his ancient bloodline mingles with mine. It’s a dark symphony that harmonizes with the rhythm of our bodies.

I’m close, teetering on the brink of oblivion, and with a few final, powerful thrusts, Alexandru sends me tumbling over the edge into ecstasy.

“Yes,” I whisper, the word torn from me as my climax rips through my body. It’s a declaration, a surrender, a submission all at once.

His release follows mine, marking me internally as sucks on my throat once again.

When it’s done, he withdraws kissing me and pulling me to him in a tangle of limbs and sheets, the fire in the hearth warming our sated bodies. There’s a stillness now, a calm afterthe storm, but beneath it all, the embers of our enmity—and something deeper, more dangerous—continue to smolder.

There’ll be time later for me to rebuild the ruins of my defenses, time enough to work out how to use him and walk away. Or perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I’ll keep him as my personal general, and my consort. A man to protect the castle and warm my bed. But nothing more. And only when I need release.

The fragility in me is big now and I don’t want to leave, I’m too weak. And he’s too warm and there.

I rest my head against Alexandru’s chest, and the steady rhythm of his heart is a gentle drum in the quiet room. His arms encircle me, a cocoon of warmth in the chill of the night.

The thoughts that flutter through my mind are like moths against a flame, erratic and elusive. What lies between us is nothing more than a whirlwind of desire, a tempest of the flesh with no roots in the deeper soils of the soul. Yet, as I hover on the edge of sleep, nestled in Alexandru’s arm, a different truth brushes against my consciousness, soft as the touch of a feather.

The lie I weave is threadbare, unraveling with each beat of my heart against his. The notion that there are no real feelings between us, that this is solely lust, becomes a fragile veneer over a truth too profound to fully acknowledge in the light of day.

I need to strengthen my weak spots. Banish any fragility, starting tomorrow.

Sleep claims me, pulling me under with gentle, insistent hands, and a part of me whispers of a deeper connection, a bond that transcends the physical. My heart knows the lie for what it is—a shield against the vulnerability of admitting that what I feel for Alexandru is far more than I’m ready to confront.

Chapter

---