The Crowned Captive
The Breaker of Hearts

“Are you okay?” Cordan whispered to her, his hand gently caressing her cheek. She returned her eyes to his face, frowning at Rowan’s sudden retreat.

“More than,” she replied as she realised how concerned he looked. She gave him a supportive smile as he studied her. She could feel her face a mess, her makeup beyond ruined and her hair dishevelled, but truly she was as happy as she had ever been.

“You did so well, Mor. Very few have managed my full length, let alone Rowan at the same time.” His cheeks seemed to flush at that. “The rest of the night is about you, making sure you are okay. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to stay and hold you?”

It was her turn to blush then, thinking about laying next to him after all of that. But she nodded, nuzzling into his chest. He murmured into her hair, holding her tightly against him, his pine and earth engulfing her once more. Something deeper than lust tinged his scent that night, but she pushed the thought from her head. Her fragile body was his now as he brushed over the horrid bruise that was undoubtedly growing on her neck, soothing it, stealing the pain away.

“You aren’t just some plaything to me, Morana,” Cordan breathed into her ear. “Like, fuck, do I want you every second of every day, but you are more than some object of pleasure. Please remember that.”

Morana ignored the tears that threatened to free themselves from her eyes and simply buried herself harder into his embrace, allowing him to engulf her. His soft words and softer touch soothed her, and she soon fell asleep in his arms.

When she awoke, the night was still dim, and the last dregs of the faerie wine had left her bloodstream. Cordan slept soundly beside her with his arm draped over her. She tried to ignore the unbidden shame from the night’s events, knowing that she would do the same if she was offered the opportunity again. Carefully, she extricated herself from his grasp and walked over to the mirror. She studied herself as the witchlight flared to life beneath her touch. The bruise she knew must have been on her neck was gone, as were those over her chest. Slightly confused, she turned to Cordan to see him awake and staring at her.

“Healing is one of my gifts,” was all he said, seemingly waiting for a response. She looked back at the mirror once more and padded back to the bed.

“Thank you. I didn’t know you could do that,” she replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed.

“I’m not just some killing machine.”

Hurt and regret at the connotation pinged through her. “I didn’t mean it like that, Cordan. I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. She was acutely aware of how tiny and fragile she was compared to him. “I am not mad at you, never. I just wish I could help you see me for me.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him as his eyes searched hers. His eyes were so gentle, not probing or pushing but simply taking everything she gave him. They weren’t filled with mischief and lust whenever he was around her, but respect and pride. It was obvious to her, painfully so, that he had grown to care about her despite her fooling around with Rowan in front of him. How much had it hurt him, her oblivious taunting in front of him when he longed for her? How much had it pained him to give her the tools to get back into his friend’s bed? She had not stopped to notice, nor care.

At that realisation, guilt settled over her like a leaden cloak. Cordan’s gentle acceptance turned to sadness as he noticed the change in her face. Without hesitation, he pulled her closer, whispering comforts in her ear as he pressed her against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Cordan. I am so sorry,” she murmured into his skin, regret filling her.

“No, don’t be sorry, don’t be sorry. I was happy to wait for you. I was, I promise. I always will be.”

He tipped her face to his, kissing each of her cheeks, brushing the tears from her lids. As if she may break in his grasp, he brushed his lips against hers. So gentle, he was ever so gentle with her. He looked into her eyes, awaiting her response to the kiss. Without hesitation, she pulled his face down to hers again. The kiss deepened into such gentle ecstasy that she could not help but sigh into him. His scent changed, that something deeper rising like the hours before, that something more than lust engulfing her as he laid her back on the bed and kissed her once more.

“I want to show you what you could have with me, Morana. Only if you are ready again,” he panted, obviously holding on to his self-control as he looked down at her with such caring eyes. Unable to muster the words without her voice breaking, she nodded. Such beautiful happiness spread across his face at her response, so much so that she could have nearly cried.

His lips met hers again, so gentle yet so full of fire, and he traced his path down to her neck. His fangs scraped across the thin skin there, ever so gentle. She nearly whimpered when he took her breast in his mouth, worrying her nipple with his teeth and the other with his hand. Constantly, he watched her face, watched her pleasure and gauged his movements accordingly. Further again he travelled, down her stomach, tongue making lazy circles until he reached her legs. Then he left a trail of kisses up her thigh, so feather-light she could nearly crawl out of her skin.

Only with her eyes on him again did he finally taste her, his tongue delving in and exploring between the folds of her. He moaned against her, quickening her pulse as he dived in again, his tongue finding her apex with ease. Slowly, lazily, he circled her clit, eyes shining with glee as the pleasure wracked her body. He grinned against her as he replaced his tongue with his thumb and then moved up the bed to kiss her, the taste of her still on his lips. She moaned into him, her breathing coming in short pants as he increased the pace. She could feel that climax coming, nearing so quickly. When he took his hand away, she couldn’t help but groan in protest.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he breathed, amusement in his voice. Ever so gently, he pushed his cock against her entrance, easing himself in. She groaned into his neck as he panted into hers, struggling with his restraint. He kissed her again, this time harder, needing, as he slowly pulled out and thrust slightly deeper, then slightly deeper again. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as if to crush her against him. He moved again, his tempo lazy.

“More,” she whispered, wanting him all. He crushed his mouth into hers then, stopping her protests as he moaned, pushing himself against that last bit of resistance. He panted above her and looked down at her with heavy-lidded eyes as he continued to fuck her. No, not that. Make love to her. The realisation locked into place as a wave of pleasure washed over her and she arched up towards him. Hands wrapped around her waist and shoulders, he crushed her into him, whispering her name as if a prayer as the tempo built.

Her climax came all at once, gentle yet earth-moving together. He swore into her ear, a prayer as he came himself, filling her so completely she couldn’t breathe as his teeth clamped down on the skin of her neck to stifle his moan.

“Do you... want... more?” He panted down at her, his cock still twitching inside her as it expelled the last of his seed. She knew at that moment that he would give her whatever she wanted, the cost to him be damned. Whilst her mind ached for more of him, all of him, her body was spent. Slowly, she shook her head. He kissed her once more before removing himself and collapsing next to her. She was a quivering mess still not recovered from both of them before.

They lay tangled in each other for a while, limbs and pleasure intertwined before he kissed her forehead and rose from the bed. He all but laughed at her protesting moan as he padded away towards her bathing chambers. Running water warned her of his plans as she heard him pad back towards her, gently lifting her from the bed and carrying her to the half-filled bath before placing her inside. He climbed in after, positioning her barely conscious body in front of his and taking his time to work the knots from her shoulders.

“Morana?” he murmured against her neck after his hands released her.

“Yes?” she replied sleepily.

“Did you enjoy yourself? I know it isn’t what Rowan has been giving you but... Was it okay?”

“Stop talking about Rowan. It was...” Mind-blowing, breathtaking, world-shattering, she thought, having trouble putting everything into words. “It was perfect.”

“Do you understand how much you mean to me yet?” Her heart skipped a beat at the question.

“I think so.” That heady change in his scent had certainly not left him and had only strengthened after their night spent together. She was nearly sure what it meant he felt towards her.

“I love you, Mor. I love you so much, from the second you threatened to break my finger off and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I know I don’t have much to my name, but I would give you the world if it meant you were happy.” His voice was so near to breaking it hurt. “I know it’s selfish, and I know as a princess you should be with someone better than me, but I can’t help the feeling. Even if you go back to Rowan after tonight, know that you always have the option to come back to me.”

She felt something change between them then, something snap into place as he spoke. She turned to look at his face to see only truth in his eyes. Her heart broke a little at that, still not knowing what or who she should want in this topsy-turvy world of hers.

“Cordan, I... I need some time before I can say what I want,” she replied, turning from the hurt that shattered his face. “I don’t know what I feel, only what I should feel. I’m not turning you down, I just need time.”

She looked back at him then to see tears streaking down his face. She reached to brush them away, to try and comfort him, for him to flinch from her hand.

“I’ll go.” That was all he said before he stood from the bath and left the ensuite dripping wet, grabbing a towel on his departure.

“Cordan, wait! Please,” she called out after him, but the words fell on deaf ears. She heard shuffling in her room, and then a door opened and closed. And then silence.

And she was left alone in the dark once more.

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