Chapter 122: Stop that, little witch.
~Gwen's POV~
He gently laid me on the bed. Losing the contact of his body brought the heat back again.
He placed his hand on me. His touch sent lightning through my body. Every spot his fingers touched burned with relief and need. I gasped as he laid me back on the bed, his large body covering me.
"Stop thinking," Drogon whispered against my neck. "Just feel."
My gown was gone in seconds, torn from my body. The cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver despite the fire inside me. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I felt desperate.
"Please," I whispered, not caring about pride anymore. The heat was consuming me.
Drogon stood, removing his own clothes. I watched, unable to look away as his body was revealed.
Scars marked his skin. It was the first time I was seeing his body in this form. I wanted to ask questions.
But it was the hard length between his legs that made my mouth go dry. He had always been big. I could still remember the last time.
"Are you afraid?" he asked, noticing my wide eyes.
"No," I lied.
He smiled, knowing. "Your body calls to mine, little witch. It has since the moment you came to my cave."
He returned to me, spreading my legs wider. His fingers traced my body from my neck to my peaked nipples down to my wetness, making me arch off the bed.
"So responsive," he murmured, sliding one thick finger inside me.
I cried out, grabbing his shoulders. It felt good. Too good. The burning eased slightly with his touch, but I needed more.
"More," I demanded, digging my nails into his skin.
He added another finger, stretching me. "Patience."
"I have none left," I growled, wrapping my legs around his waist. "I need more. Now." I would think of Anastasia later... I had tried fighting this. But this was bigger than me.
Something dark flashed in his eyes. "Say it properly."
I knew what he wanted. The words he needed to hear. The surrender he craved. He wanted to know if he was the only one in my head and that I wasn't thinking of her.
"I need you, Drogon," I whispered, meeting his gaze. "Only you." At the moment. I needed only him even though it pained me.
He moved forward, claiming my lips in a fierce kiss as he positioned himself at my entrance. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me.
Pain and pleasure mixed together as my body stretched to accept him. I gasped against his mouth, my back arching.
"So tight," he groaned, holding still. "Relax, my beloved. You will be alright." He began licking at my neck.
The pleasure I felt was more than I could ever imagine. It was like a zap that moved through me... tingling and just too good... I felt my entrance get warm and more of my fluid poured out. I squirmed, trying to urge him to move.
"Stop that, little witch. Y-you shouldn't do that," he groaned through gritted teeth.
The burning heat that had tortured me began to fade, replaced by a different kind of fire. One that felt good, right.
He began to move, slow at first, watching my face. Each thrust pushed me higher, made me want more. My hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles taut and tense.
"Faster," I urged, lifting my hips to meet his.
He complied, picking up speed. The bed creaked beneath us, our bodies moving together in perfect sync. Like we were made for each other.
"Mine," he growled, his hand tangling in my hair. "Say it."
"Yours," I gasped, lost in sensation. "I am yours." Yes, I was his.
His thrusts became harder, deeper. I felt something building inside me, a fire coiling tighter with each movement.
"Let go," Drogon commanded, his voice rough. "Come for me, my little fire."
"Ahhhhhhh...."
My release crashed over me. It felt like I had been hit with a pleasurable fire. I cried out his name, my body clenching around him as pleasure unlike anything I had ever known consumed me.
He followed soon after, his body tensing as he poured himself inside me. The bond vibrated between us connecting us in ways I could not explain but feel.
My body swallowed every seed of his. Not once did it allow any to spill out. Mother Earth, even my body betrayed me now.
We lay together after, our breathing harsh in the quiet room. His weight was heavy on me, but I did not mind. The burning had stopped. The pain was gone.
But in its place was something worse. Guilt.
Anastasia's face flashed in my mind. Her pain. Her acceptance. Her leaving.
"What have I done?" I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.
Drogon pulled back to look at me. His thumb caught a tear as it fell.
"What you had to do," he said simply. "The bond cannot be denied forever."
"But Anastasia..."
"She knew," he said softly. "She allowed it, Gwen. I am willing to share you with her if it will stop hurting you."
I turned my face away, unable to bear his gaze and the reality of his words. It had always been just me and Ana. "I love her," I whispered quietly.
"And she loves you enough to let you go." He drew me closer. "Rest now. The heat will return soon, and you will need your strength."
"It will come back?" I asked, alarmed.
"Until you are carrying my seed, yes." His fingers traced patterns on my skin. "It will keep returning."
I closed my eyes, too tired to argue. My body felt both satisfied and strangely empty at the same time. The bond still pulled at me, stronger now but still incomplete.
Outside the room, I knew Anastasia was gone. Walking away from me, from us. I had made my choice, even if it did not feel like a choice at all.
With Drogon's arms around me, I fell into an uneasy sleep, wondering what tomorrow would bring. And if I could ever forgive myself for what had happened today.
~Anastasia's POV~
I walked without seeing, my feet carrying me away from her door. Away from the sounds that would soon fill that room. Away from the woman I love.
The armor I wore felt heavier than ever before. My heart beat painfully in my chest.
I had known this day would come. From the moment I saw her suffering in so much pain and knowing he was the only one who could help her and not me, I knew I would lose her. But knowing did not ease the pain.
Guards nodded as I passed. I did not see their faces, only blurs through my tears.
In the training yard, I found an empty space. Drawing my sword, I began to move, letting the familiar patterns consume my thoughts. Each swing was harder than the last. Each thrust powered by my grief.
"Captain."
I turned to find my second in command watching me, concern in his eyes.
"Not now," I warned, returning to my drills.
"You should not be alone," he said gently.
"I am always alone," I replied, my sword slashing through the air. "Now more than ever."
He said nothing else, but did not leave. Instead, he drew his own sword and joined me in silent practice.
And for that small kindness, I was grateful. As we continued to move, I felt a presence behind my back.
I turned and I saw him. Gwen's fated mate and not me. I looked away from him as tears threatened to spill from my eyes.
"Like I said before, I am willing to share. She loves you but she needs me."
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