is something vulnerable in this moment between us. Soon it will all be broken, but for a moment, I have him without his kingly shield up.
“I’m scared, Elias,” I whisper.
“Why?” he demands.
Licking my lips, I run my thumb along his scar again. “I’m in a world that isn’t my own, my family has no idea where I am or how to find me. I’m alone, and I’m terrified at the thought of being used by you and yet…”
“Yet?”
Lifting my head from the pillow, I touch my mouth to his before I finish my thought. “I’m terrified to be used by you, and yet, when you’re here with me I find that I crave you.”
He growls, and without warning, his hips shift and he fills me in one swift motion. I’m not ready for him. Pulling my head back, I let out a cry of pain as he stretches me. He tugs on my hair, forcing my neck to arch for him, but doesn’t shift his hips as I expect. Instead, he stays fully seated inside of me, and completely still.
“Open your eyes, Sybilla,” he demands, his voice almost harsh.
Opening my eyes, I attempt to regain my breathing as I stare at his face. His black eyes glitter, his jaw is set hard and there is a tic in his cheek.
“Never be terrified of me, sweeting. I’ll never hurt you, my future queen. You’ll carry my babes inside of you, you’ll give me sons, and you’ll make me happy.”
“In that order?” I breathe.
He hums, lowering his face, his teeth nipping my bottom lip. “Nay, Sybilla. Not in that order. For I think making your king happy should be top priority, then carrying my babes, then providing sons.”
“What if we only have daughters?” I exhale as he pulls out of me before he sinks back inside.
I find it almost shocking that his movements are done with such ease, my body becoming wet almost immediately.
He hums. “Then we will keep trying for sons.”
“How many?”
“Sons?”
“Children?”
His lips turn up into a blinding smile at my question. He tugs a bit harder on my hair, forcing my neck to arch even more. His hold sends sensations throughout my body that should be painful, but instead are nothing but pleasure. He slowly eases in and out of me in a rhythm that is unmistakably achingly close to making love.
“Dozens.”
I let out an unladylike snort. He doesn’t allow me to respond to his words, instead he slants his head to the side, his lips slam against mine and he fills my mouth with his tongue, fucking me in tandem.
It doesn’t take long for both of us to find our release. I push back the thought that as he fills me with his release that he is setting about impregnating me, as he’s made so abundantly clear he wants to do as soon as possible.
Wrapping me in his arms, he rests and we don’t say another word. I can’t get my mind to shut down. All of this seems so extraordinarily fascinating. I still expect to close my eyes and wake up in my apartment in Portland.
Though now, after the witches’ little speeches, I’m thinking that may never happen. That is, if what they say is true. I’m still not sure that I’m convinced by their words.
This could still be some kind of cosplay thing, and they’re in on it too, but as each hour passes that becomes less and less of a possibility. I may have to come to terms that I’ve landed in some kind of warped, Twilight Zone, thing.
However, if I have to live some magical Twilight Zone life, I guess it could be worse than being married to a king who gives really great orgasms.
Chapter Twelve
ELIAS
With my back to the door, I stare out of the window. It seems as though I’ve been doing much of this in the recent week, looking out of the window and reflecting. Strategy is important to me, though I’m not sure why I feel the need to strategize when it comes to Sybilla.
I could, as Merek suggests, lock her in the dungeon and ensure that the prophecy never comes to fruition without issue. However, my stomach clenches and my chest aches at the thought of not sleeping and waking beside Sybilla each day.
I feel as though I’m under a spell, even though the witches have given their word that I am indeed, not.
“Your Majesty, you called?” Aleida asks, clearing her throat.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at