His Drug *

This chapter contains mature content. Please read at your own discretion.

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Daphne couldn't pinpoint the exact moment the fog clouding her mind had cleared. She was vaguely familiar with what she had been doing, but the details eluded her senses. It was as if the words had escaped from her teeth without passing through her brain.

So when she realized that she was holding something hard in her hands, its warmth seeping through the thin fabric, her body acted on its own.

Slowly, she realized that she could think clearly, a light breeze scattering the thick fog. But the more she thought about her actions, the more disgusted she was with herself. She wanted to chop her hands off for ever touching that foul thing. For a moment, she almost wished that she could remain in that delusion forever. At least she didn't feel pain or shame there.

She hated the feeling the way his body tensed from her movements and every twitch of his muscles. She didn't want to see the lust pool in his amber his eyes. What's more, she despised how much of a traitor her own body was, the way it curved towards his hands and arched in response to his movements.

He reached for her, his hands appearing more as claws and talons than hands. Yet, she leaned forward.

Biting into her tongue, she tried to stifle a scream. Only then did she realize that a bit of the drug had been stuck to her teeth. The fleeting idea of letting the sweetness course through her body fluttered, but she forced herself to remain sane.

She held back tears as he lifted his body into the air. At that moment, only one thought flashed in her mind: he was raising him up higher so he could have more momentum as he slammed back into her body.

Only, he didn't.

"Princess, my self-control isn't that strong."

Those words rang a warning bell in Daphne. She needed to become his weakness, and perhaps, the matters of the bed were what preoccupied his mind? If she could chip away at his self-control, maybe she could become his drug.

She leaned up to kiss him, trying to hold back her tears and convincing herself that she was still under the effect of the narcotic. It wasn't the first time their mouths had met, but she still felt a tremor course through her body as their lips met.

Holding in a deep breath, gingerly, she extended her tongue forward so that the remnants of the sweet drug reached his mouth. Although she had expected the worst taste of rotten meat or decay, instead, his mouth had a fresh taste to it. If anything, he tasted vaguely of spring, utterly unfitting for the ruler of a king of eternal winter.

When he deepened the kiss, surprisingly, Daphne didn't want to recoil. It wasn't harsh or playful like the ones from before. His kisses lit her body on fire, and she felt something unexpected pool between her legs. Until she reminded herself of who she had been entangled with, she almost wanted to stay there.

The drug must have been taking effect on the both of them. Or maybe she was finally living up to his standards of a consort.

"She's a mere consort. A consort is a woman who lives for her man's pleasure. But this one can't even pleasure me in bed." The Northern King's words from before echoed in her mind.

He lightly nipped at her lips, and she let out a soft moan. The voice sounded so out of place, its sensualness a stark contrast to the screams of horror enveloping her.

He seemed pleased, his eyes glowing and a contented smile on his lips.

As she stared into his softened gaze, she realized that this had been the key to melting his frosty heart the whole time. Daphne had never seen this expression on him.

The entire time, all she had to do was to just please him in bed. As long as his lower body was satisfied, he would expose his weaknesses.

All she had to do was to give her body to him and make him addicted to her body.

How hard could it be?

Biting back her tears, she braced herself for the storm to come. She plastered on her most complacent look, hoping that the night would soon be over. For so long, she tried to convince herself that she wanted this, that she was willing to sacrifice her body in exchange for a bit of his self-control.

Yet, the moment she heard the words "Princess, do you really want this?" the walls she had crafted for so long instantly collapsed.

No, she did not want this.

She wanted to be home. She didn't want to be his toy, an object to release his frustrations onto.

Words that Daphne didn't think she was holding in suddenly poured out of her mouth.

However, as soon as she registered what she was saying, she forced herself to be aware of her situation again.

She was in a dungeon, a rack of torture tools beaming down at her. She was poisoned, and the only hope for a cure was on a loose assassin. She needed to kill him, but she still had no clue what could.

All she could do was hope that his missing heart could open to her. Only then would he lead her out from this living hell. Only then would he devote all his power to seeking an antidote. Only then would he trust her enough to let her know of his deepest secrets.

She leaned in for another kiss, closing her eyes so she didn't have to see his lustful gaze.

Taking a deep breath, she fumbled around his chest, her heart drumming as her fingertips slid further down. His body quivered from the trail of flames she was lighting, and Korbin's arms almost gave out from underneath him.

The moment Daphne found the hard object, her heart was almost at her throat.

Without the fogginess from the drug, it felt much different. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed even stiffer than before. Even now, as her fingers cupped it, it was becoming harder and harder to fully contain it.

She dared to steal a glance to make sure she was touching the right thing, but she immediately averted her eyes.

The bulge was monstrous, threatening to break through the bounds of the fabric.

Her mind went blank, all of the propaganda she had fed herself about becoming his weakness flying out the window.

Her hand tried to slip through the waistline of his pants and weasel its way through. Sifting through the layers of fabric, the tips of her fingers touched something, something of a texture she had never felt before. It jerked at her touch. Startled, more than anything, she wanted to retract her hands, but she told herself that she had to keep going.

A bead of sweat fell on her forehead, and she looked up to find a pair of bloodshot eyes. The veins on his arms popping, the Northern King looked to be in pain, more so than ever before when a knife had pierced his body or slit his throat.

He growled something unintelligible, letting out a small moan as Daphne poked at something rounded.

This was the sign to Daphne that she was on the right track.

She poked again, daring to reach a bit further than before, grabbing onto something tubular in shape.

"Princess..."

The Northern King's strained voice was cut off by yet another low groan.

"If you don't move your hands soon, I feel like I'm going to die."

His low voice sent a chill down Daphne's spine.

All she heard was that he was going to die, so she immediately halted all of her motions.

Her much too bright smile was the last straw.

He lowered his body, pinning her to the wooden board.

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Thank you IzzyBella16 for the pizza! Here's a bit of a longer chapter as thanks!