Don't leave the room
Raphael’s POV
The persistent knocks at the door irritated me beyond measure. I vowed to have the servant punished if this interruption proved to be anything less than urgent. Grey, my wolf, growled in agreement.
As I turned my gaze back to Ava, I couldn't help but smile possessively. She was still trembling, her body betraying the pleasure I had just bestowed upon her. The sight of her flushed cheeks and the wetness dripping down her thighs filled me with a deep, primal satisfaction.
“Mine,” Grey and I declared in unison, our possessive thoughts ringing clear in our minds. Ava glanced up at me, her eyes wide as if she had heard our claim. She hurriedly tried to compose herself, adjusting her disheveled clothing, but there was no hiding the evidence of our intimacy. The scent of her arousal lingered in the air, intoxicating and undeniable. I wanted everyone who crossed our path to know she was mine.
“Come in,” I called out, my voice dripping with annoyance. I felt Ava’s hands reluctantly release their grip on my arms. I could still feel her hands around my c*** gripping me, my body responded with just thoughts of her, I groaned in frustration.
The door creaked open, revealing one of my personal servants. I rose from the bath, instinctively shielding Ava’s exposed form with my own body. The servant’s eyes widened in shock, his face pale as he realized what he had interrupted.
“My king, I brought clothes for you and the lady,” he stammered, bowing his head quickly to avoid my glare.
“Drop them there,” I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument. I noticed a flicker of envy in his eyes as he obeyed. He was clearly displeased that Ava would be taking over duties he once considered his own.
“She will dress me. You can leave,” I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand. I once again caught the flash of resentment that crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a submissive nod.
“My king, would you like something to eat?” he asked, his tone a mixture of servitude and wounded pride. I smirked inwardly; he was trying to stake his claim, to prove some level of importance after witnessing Ava’s new position.
Childish. She will be the queen of this realm someday, I thought, but until then, I won't rush her.
“My king?” he prompted, snapping me out of my thoughts. Before I could answer, Ava’s stomach growled audibly at the mention of food. I realized then that she hadn’t eaten since our arrival in Lystra.
“Yes, bring us the best food you can prepare,” I commanded. “Something fit for a king and his queen.”
“Yes, my king.” The servant bowed low before scurrying off, clearly pleased to be of service.
Ava bent over to retrieve the water jug, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of her curves, the image of her bent over, a few minutes ago played in mind. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice rougher than intended. I knew she wasn’t trying to tempt me, but I was only a man, and the sight of her drove me wild.
“I was trying to pour out the water,” she explained, her voice filled with innocence.
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, moving closer to her. In one swift motion, I scooped her up into my arms. She yelped in surprise, her hands instinctively clutching at my shoulders to support herself.
“You don’t need to do that,” she protested, her voice small. I felt her tense up, as though she was preparing to resist.
I responded with a firm smack to her ass, not hard, but enough to make her gasp and comply. She fell silent, no longer struggling against me. I carried her to the bed, gently placing her down on the soft sheets. Her wide blue eyes followed my every movement as I picked up the attire the servant had brought for her. It was a beautiful lilac fabric, delicate and elegant, befitting her.
“I can dress myself,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.
“Sit still, Ava,” I commanded, my tone leaving no room for argument. She obediently sat back, her hands clasped in her lap. I wanted to dress her myself, to feel the softness of the fabric against her skin, but I decided to give her some space. She was still adjusting to this new life, after all.
“Go wash up,” I said, stepping back to give her some privacy. “I have matters to attend to.”
“Yes, my king,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. I clenched my jaw, frustrated by her insistence on formality. Why couldn’t she call me by my name?
“Call me Raphael,” I projected into her mind, using the telepathic link I share with all my subjects. Her eyes widened in surprise, clearly startled by the intrusion. She looked up at me, as if trying to comprehend how I had done that.
“Don’t leave the room. Wait for me,” I ordered, my voice firm. She nodded, still processing the telepathic communication.
As I disrobed once again, standing before her, I could feel her gaze on me, though she tried to keep her eyes averted. Her hands moved swiftly, dressing me with care but without making eye contact. She was cute, her shyness endearing in a way that awakened something deep within me.
“I have some issues to discuss with Gemma and Caleb,” I said aloud, more to myself than to her. “The council will likely bring up concerns, and I need to prepare for their questions about you.”
I groaned inwardly, the thought of dealing with the council dampening my mood. These were the moments when I wished I wasn’t the king of this realm, bound by duty and responsibility.
But as I looked back at Ava, her delicate hands smoothing the linen of my tunic, I knew that no matter the challenges ahead, she was worth the pain. She was mine, and I would protect her, guide her, if need be and one day, make her the queen of this realm.
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