Chapter XCIII: Mine
Isabella’s heart quickened in her chest, but she kept her expression composed. With a silent nod, she reached for the ties of her gown, fingers moving deftly as she began to remove her clothing. She removed her gown and undergown at once, the fabrics slipped from her shoulders, pooling silently at her feet as she stood before him, her body completely bare and her eyes lowered in submission. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Her eyes briefly met the king's before she lowered them again. She could feel his presence, heavy with intent.
"Is everything alright, my king?" she asked softly, the concern evident in her voice.
The king didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his boots tapping quietly on the floor until he was standing directly in front of her. He reached out, lifting her chin with a firm but gentle hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and intense, held hers captive as he spoke.
"I want you," he said, his voice low and husky with desire.
Isabella’s breath caught in her throat. "Right now?" she whispered.
"Yes," he replied simply, not waiting for further words. He pressed his lips to hers with a fierce hunger, kissing her ardently, his hands squeezing her breasts as she melted to his touch.
His hands roamed her body possessively, fingers digging into her waist as he lifted her with ease, wrapping her legs around his waist. Isabella gasped, her body helpless in his grip, as he carried her to the bed. There was no softness in his movements, no hesitation—just raw need.
He tossed her onto the mattress, her body bouncing lightly against the plush surface as he knelt before her. His hands gripped her knees and yanked them apart with a roughness that made her breathless. Isabella tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down with a hand on her chest, his eyes blazing with a command she couldn't refuse.
With an animalistic hunger, the king pulled her hips toward him, lowering himself between her thighs. His mouth found her cunt immediately, hot and insistent, his tongue working on her silky folds her with fierce devotion. Isabella’s head fell back against the bed, a moan escaping her lips as his tongue moved expertly over her, devouring her like a man starved.
Her hands flew to his hair, fisting it tightly as her hips bucked against him. He didn’t relent—instead, he held her down, his grip strong and relentless as he continued to pleasure her with a feverish intensity. Every flick of his tongue, every firm stroke, sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. Isabella’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her moans growing louder as he drove her higher and higher.
“Please…” she whimpered, her body trembling under his control. She was on the edge, and he knew it. She could feel him smirking against her, his mouth working her with even more fervor, pushing her closer to the brink of ecstasy.
When her release finally came, it tore through her with an intensity that left her nearly screaming his name. Her entire body shuddered violently, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she clung to him, desperate to hold on to the sensation. The king didn’t stop until she was spent, every last tremor leaving her breathless and weak.
Slowly, he rose from between her legs, his mouth glistening with her, his eyes full of satisfaction. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at her with a predatory grin.
The king climbed on top of Isabella, his body pressing against hers as he kissed her with unrestrained fervor, his lips hungry and demanding. Isabella could feel the heat of his desire as his hands roamed over her, claiming her with every touch. She felt the fire of his need in the way he moved, urgent yet controlled.
Breaking the kiss, the king rose to his knees, his breath ragged as he hurriedly opened his pants. His eyes were dark with lust, focused solely on her, as though she were the only thing in the world that could satisfy the hunger burning within him. He pulled her hips towards him, positioning himself between her legs, his grip firm and insistent.
Isabella’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his cock inside of her, her body trembling with anticipation. His desire was palpable—almost desperate. She could feel it in every frantic movement, every harsh breath that escaped his lips as he pushed into her, fucking her hard, filling her completely. The force of his need took her breath away, her mind lost in the overwhelming sensation.
He moved with a relentless rhythm, his pace hard and fast, each thrust going deeper as his desire grew more uncontrollable. Isabella arched beneath him, her moans spilling freely as his passion consumed her. The tension in the air thickened, the room filled with the sound of their bodies moving together in a primal dance of need.
The king's breathing grew more ragged, more erratic, his grip on her tightening as he neared the edge. His pace quickened, his movements becoming almost frenzied, driven by the overwhelming desire coursing through him. Isabella clung to him, her fingers digging into his back as she felt the moment building between them.
With a final, powerful thrust, the king buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as he reached his climax. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as he released himself, the sheer intensity of it leaving him trembling against her. Isabella felt the heat of his release, his cum spilling deep inside of her cunt, his breath still coming in heavy gasps as he collapsed against her.
Breathless, the king kissed Isabella with a fervor that left her trembling, his lips claiming hers as if he could never get enough of her. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a dark intensity. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion and desire.
Isabella's heart pounded as she met his gaze, still reeling from the passion they had just shared. "I love you too, my king," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but the truth of it burning in her chest.
The king’s grip tightened on her hips, possessive and unwavering. His eyes held hers, unblinking. "You belong to me, my love, my favorite… My little dove," he growled, the words raw and commanding. "You were always meant to be mine, only mine."
Isabella’s breath hitched at the force of his claim, a shiver running down her spine. She felt her entire body yielding to him, her soul entangled with his. She nodded, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Yes… I’m yours, my king.”
The king's gaze softened, but the intensity remained. He ran his thumb across her lower lip before kissing her again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring the feeling of having her completely.
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