The Crowned Captive
A Step Closer

The cool night air hit her skin, finally freeing her from the clinging expectations of the court behind her. She could hear footsteps behind her and smell the spice that marked her ever-looming captor, but she kept running. She ran and she ran until her lungs screamed for air and her legs felt like hell. Only then did she stop. Her captor stopped beside her

As she looked around, she found herself in another wonder within the forest. The small meadow was surrounded by willows and pockmarked with wildflowers of every colour. Even the stars seemed to look down and judge her that night, but Rowan said nothing, even as she tore at her dress, stripping down to the slip that sat underneath, hugging her every curve. Only once she flopped down onto the soft grass, chest still having, did he speak.

“I must admit, that was some decent endurance to get so far in that prison they call a gown,” he said, sitting beside her. Not a single hair was out of place on his pretty little head, and the only sign of having run so far was an ever so slight flush to his cheeks. Morana snorted at him and rolled away, once again pissed off at the perfect elf.

“I mean it, Morana. You may not feel it, but you are already coming into yourself as an elf instead of some human half-breed. It suits you.” It was the wrong thing to say. The words snapped that last piece of resistance in her, and she sat up, fire burning in her veins.

“I was perfectly content being some human half-breed. I sure was a lot fucking happier than being some pretty prisoner for you to ogle over, or some pampered princess who must know every damned thing about the court without ever stepping a foot in it! Take me back any day and I will go happily back to being forgotten and starved! I wish you never found me in my oh-so-horrid hellhole!“. The words tore out of her in a scream, shattering the quiet of the night. ”You are the worst of all. You don’t get to paw after me one second and then talk about me like I am some tainted creature the next! I am not some object. Just make a fucking decision on whether to control me or by a friend or get the fuck out of my life.”

Shock, an actual genuine emotion for once, flashed across Rowan’s face. For a sickening second, satisfaction welled up within her at the thought she had finally shattered that stony exterior of his. That was short-lived, however, as the shock was replaced by sorrow that quenched every flame the anger had built within her.

“Morana, I never meant... It was never like that.” The words seemed to stick to his mouth like glue.

“Just forget about it, Rowan. Leave me alone. I promise I won’t try and flee tonight. I can find my own way back eventually.”

She heaved off the ground and turned to leave, to find privacy to process her thoughts, but was yanked back towards him. She turned, ready for whatever fight was about to occur. And his lips met hers.

The world came crashing down around her, his ravenous heat engulfing her body anew, nearly pushing her to the ground once more. His mouth was incessant and needing and his fingers searched her skin for anything to sate the uncontrollable hunger. Despite the little voice in her head screaming at her, Morana felt herself melt against him, her own hands working their way up under his tunic to find his chiselled chest, the other the hard planes of his face, tangling in his hair. Her heart thundered as she finally gave in to all she wanted to, consequences be damned. She could deny herself no longer. She wanted him.

His mouth left hers and those damned fangs found her neck, grazing against her skin in sinful pleasure-pain. His fingers tore at the slip still covering her, wanting more, wanting to feel her skin, and she broke away long enough for him to pull it over her head, just as he did with his tunic. She could feel nothing else but her need now. Her need for him, her need for this. As they crashed back together, his fingers finding her breasts and groping at them, she let her every worry go. Her body gave way to his every touch, his every want, as she gave herself wholly over to him.

“I have never wanted to be your friend, Morana,” he growled into her neck before his mouth travelled lower, teeth finding her breasts with enough force to bruise.

She wanted to tell him how much she wanted him, how long she had been craving this. How her heart felt knowing he wanted her as much as she wanted him. No such words made it past her lips, only strangled sounds of pleasure.

“Rowan,” she cried as his lips encased her nipple, his fingers worrying the other. It was all she could manage under his touch. She quivered under the burning trail of his mouth, banishing every thought that told her to stop. The ache in her core was too great to stop now. She yelped in protest as he pulled away, and his mouth found hers again, crushing the moans bubbling from within her and any protest with it.

Her fingers detached themselves from his flesh and trailed down his muscled abdomen, finding the ties of his trousers and fumbling to get them undone. She felt him chuckle against her lips as his hands replaced hers, freeing his length in mere seconds and guiding her back to it. She choked back the fear at the sheer size of it, pumping her hand along the velvety skin. Her heart nearly stood still at the thought of how it would fit, but the guttural moan he lout out at the feeling of her hand was enough to shatter that small scared resistance. She wanted all of him, consequences be damned.

As if feeling her readiness, Rowan lifted her so that her legs wrapped around his muscled abdomen, his erect cock tapping against her ass with each step as he walked her over to the centre of the meadow. There he laid her down, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head as he hovered over her. She shivered as those forest green eyes roved over her lazily, as if he was taking his time to devour the sight.

“How about a deal, Princess? I control you, just for tonight, and I will show you how much I want to not be your friend,” he teased, voice husky.

“Yes,” she replied instantly, her voice barely a whisper. It was a struggle to form even that word over every nerve in her body being alight with pleasure.

“Are you sure, Princess?” He grinned down at her wickedly, that smile all fangs and lust.

“Please.” The sound was barely a whimper.

“Then don’t move.”

His grin grew wider as he released her hands, leaving her lying there as he feather-lightly caressed his hand down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. She shivered once more as his fingers found the peak of her breast, pinching and twisting hard enough to make her cry out, further feeding the hunger in his gaze. His mouth replaced his fingers, soothing the aching breast, as his hands moved lower down her body. His eyes never left hers as he caressed the soft inner side of her thigh. Ever so slowly, he moved his hand higher again as his mouth worked one nipple, then the other. His fingers brushed the bundle of nerves at her apex and she cried out, hands finding his face. Immediately he withdrew, and the ground bit into her arms as he grabbed them and forced them back with one hand, the other around her neck.

“Move again and there will be consequences. Do you understand me?” His voice was a steely command, though his eyes were alight with want, seeming to dare her to disobey, to test those consequences. Still, she forced her head to nod, chin brushing the crook of his hand where it lay against her throat.

She struggled not to move once more as he removed his hands and immediately planted his mouth over the apex of nerves his fingers had left. Tasting, caressing with his tongue. She cried out and her hips bucked wildly against him, but he forced them down with one hand whilst continuing to feast on her sex. His other hand found her canal, and he eased a finger inside, her mind focussing on the feel of him within her and nothing else. She let out a whimper as he ever so slowly ever so gently added a second finger. Pleasure wracked her body, slowly building as he pimped his fingers, matching the tempo with his tongue. His eyes fixed on hers as she tightened around him, that feeling of ecstasy pooling in her core. Her breathing hitched then and Rowan seemed to sense her nearing climax. His eyes never left hers as she writhed around him, breath coming in short pants. Never before and she shared this feeling with someone, and she had never felt more naked for it.

She could feel him grin around her sex as she finally came undone, his fingers carrying her through the throes of her climax. Unable to help herself, her hands found his head, begging him for more bliss. The pain of his teeth sinking into her upper thigh followed the high, riding it onto a crescendoing pleasure. She cried out again, all inhibitions gone.

“If you can’t follow simple instructions, Morana, I can stop,” Rowan chuckled, climbing over her and pinning her hands above her head a third time. His length rested against her quivering folds, teasing her. She shook her head without hesitation, only wanting more of him. All of him.

“I am sorry, I didn’t quite get that. You’ll have to speak up.” His eyes gleamed with mischief as the aftershocks rolled through her.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpered, trying to lift her hips to grind into him, wanting any sort of friction.

“I’m still not convinced. I want you begging for it.”

“Please fuck me, Rowan. Please,” she begged, any previous shred of self-control or self-restraint seeming to flee her mind.

“Then be a good girl, or I won’t be so nice,” he breathed, then sheathed himself inside of her.

She cried out as he did so, pain and pleasure washing over her in unison. She had been prepared for the pain, though a second later the sensation left her as he eased himself back again. His eyes never left her face as he eased himself further inside, so slow, too slow. Never did he give her all of his length. Those eyes twinkled down at her, taking in the pleasure and frustration etched into her face.

“Please,” she whimpered once more, and he let go of her hands, grasping her breasts instead as his lips found her neck. Pleasure rolled through her in waves as he plunged in, again and again, taking his time to explore all of her. Lazy thrusts threatened to send her over the edge of sanity as he rose above her once more, his face mischievous. He seemed to dare her to move. With all ration gone from her brain, she locked eyes, and deliberately between moans, moved her hands to his hip. That smile on his face grew, sending her heart pounding at an even higher tempo, her breaths staccato.

“No more niceness, then,” was all he said before withdrawing himself. She cried out her protests which fell on deaf ears as he flipped her over and spread her legs with his own. Those hands grabbed hers, forcing them together behind her back as the other tangled in her hair, lifting her face from the grass. He plunged his cock deep into her then, and she could not stop the scream of pleasure that tore from her throat. Holding her up by the arms and hair, forcing her legs open with his, he fucked her without abandon, until she was screaming his name and he hers. Her world shattered into a billion pieces of pleasure as he did, him burying himself to the hilt within her, his length quivering as his seed spurted from within and seeped down her thighs. With a final primal grunt, he eased her gently to the ground and all but collapsed on top of her, seemingly as shattered as she.

She relaxed into him as he started a lazy pattern of caresses along her hips. After what must have only been a handful of minutes, if that, she felt him stiffen behind her, and his hand slow. He gently rolled down beside her, his hand brushing her hair from her face. She looked up at him to see his eyes full of concern.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispered, searching her face with the first genuine sign of caring she had ever seen on his face.

“No, of course not,” she replied, lazily resting her hand against his cheek. “That was... truly mind-blowing.”

“Are you certain? I can... smell blood on you.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks reddened, the realisation of his meaning dawning on her. “That uh, is to be expected.”

“I am not following.”

“I am- was, a virgin,” she murmured, heat rising in her cheeks again. Beside her, Rowan went utterly still, the caring draining from his face, replaced by his usual steely exterior. She reached for his face, but he flinched back, stood up, and started retrieving his clothes from around the meadow.

“I just deflowered a princess,” he finally groaned.

“Yes, but I wanted it,” she replied, watching him as he paced, her newly full heart threatening to shatter in her chest.

“Your first time should not have been like this, some brute taking you in a field like an animal.”

“Rowan, please. I enjoyed myself, immensely so. I don’t care what others think it should have been.”

“I care though!” He roared, facing her fully now. “Any woman deserved better than this! I would have happily killed another man had I known they brutalised our last hope for peace in the dirt like a fucking pig!”

“Rowan, listen to me! That is not what you did. I found my completion, twice, and am more than happy about it. I hold no ill will for you, and never will because of this. Please, just calm down.”

“I am going. Be dressed, Cordan will be here to escort you back soon,” he said, all business once more as he threw her slip towards her. She had not a second to say another thing before he sprinted off, leaving her alone in the clearing reeling. She was sore with pleasant aching marks where he had been, the bite mark in her leg gently throbbing, his seed smeared down her thighs. Tears welled in her eyes as she attempted to process what had just happened.

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