Page 115 of Crown of Storm and Silence
“Please,” she sobs, trembling in the air. “Please, I?—”
“You’re ready,” I snarl, rising and pressing the head of my cock against her ass. “Now take your husband’s cock.”
I push into her slowly, feeling her stretch and grip around me. At the same time, a shadow penetrates her cunt, fucking her in tandem.
The double sensation breaks her.
She sobs, moans, begs, shakes—but she doesn’t say no. She never says no. She screams my name like a prayer and comes violently around both me and my shadows.
I lose control. I fuck her hard, deep, relentless, feeling my balls tighten as I edge closer to release.
“Come with me,” I growl, slamming into her one last time. “Come and know who you belong to.”
We come together, her entire body locking up as her climax rips through her again. I empty inside her, possessive and wild, shadows curling around both of us like silk spun from sin.
When it ends, I lower her gently to the bed. She’s shaking, ruined, utterly spent.
“Please,” she whispers. “Just… let me rest.”
I kiss her temple, lying beside her.
“You’ve earned it,” I murmur. “But only for a little while.”
Because the night is far from over.
And I have so much more to give her.
38
The Morning After
Nesilhan
The morning lightfiltering through the obsidian windows feels different somehow—cleaner, brighter, as if Kaan's freedom from poison has lifted a veil I didn't know existed. I wake wrapped in his arms, and for the first time in months, everything feels right.
His breathing is even against my neck, no longer labored with the constant fight against poison in his veins. The silver tracery that had been spreading like death beneath his skin is gone, leaving only the aristocratic perfection I fell in love with.
"Good morning,hatun," he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with sleep. His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer. "How are you feeling?"
"Perfect," I whisper, and mean it. The bond between us hums with contentment, carrying his emotions as clearly as my own. Relief, love, possessive satisfaction, all of it flowing through our connection like golden wine.
But as we lie together in comfortable silence, something cold begins to creep into my contentment. A wrongness Ican't identify, like a discordant note in an otherwise perfect symphony.
"Kaan," I say carefully, "did anything feel... strange about the ritual last night?"
"Everything about this place is strange,hatun." His voice carries a hint of amusement, but I catch the way his body tenses slightly. "Do you mean during the ritual, or..." His tone drops meaningfully, "after?"
My cheeks flame as I think of last night and what we did after returning to our chambers, and I bury my face against his neck. Kaan's chest vibrates with low chuckles, and I glance up at him, embarrassed.
"Don't be embarrassed," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Last night was perfection."
I can't help but smile at his words, but the nagging worry won't leave me alone. I trace idle patterns on his chest, trying to organize my thoughts. "I don't mean that. I mean, during the ritual itself. Something about the way your father looked at us afterward. The way he seemed so... satisfied. It felt like more than just healing the corruption."
Kaan is quiet for a long moment, and I feel his emotions shift through our bond—the contentment dimming as consideration takes its place. "He got what he wanted," he says finally, but there's uncertainty threading through his voice. "The poison is gone, the bond is restored. What more could he have accomplished?"
"That's exactly what worries me," I admit, lifting my head to meet his dark eyes. "When has Erlik ever been satisfied with simple solutions? When has he ever done anything without multiple layers of purpose?"
Before he can respond, urgent knocking echoes through our chamber, followed immediately by Banu's voice calling through the door.
