Between Her Thighs*

"I am willing," Ophelia insisted. 

Killorn swallowed hard. Finally, he glanced down and saw her breathtaking body. 

With her silvery hair trickling down her shoulders, her face red with passion, her breasts perk, and her nipples tight, he swore she was a goddess. Her lithe body was ample, with hips that he'd love to grab, and skin he wished to sink his teeth into. A lovely scent emitted from her, one that made his nostrils flare.

"My god," Killorn harshly breathed out, running a hand over his face. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." 

Casting a glance in her direction, Killorn was ready to abandon his logic. Killorn tightened his jaw. He was ready to soothe the ache in his pants. At this point, it was agonizing not to touch her when he was already strained.

As Killorn gazed into her tender eyes, filled with his reflection, a terrifying beast awakened within him. A primal instinct—if he would. A reflex to claim her, to breed her upon this bed, until her belly was with his child, and her throat hoarse from screaming his name.

"Truly?" Killorn pressed, for he needed her to be certain. Once he slid inside, he wouldn't pull out until her womb was filled with his seed. 

"P-please join me in the bed, my l-lord." Ophelia's voice was as sweet as her face. He could not resist. Which man dared to?

"You do not know what you do to me, Ophelia," Killorn growled, yanking off his metal armor and violently dropping it to the ground. 

They had already consummated their marriage two years ago, but the event played out every night he wasn't with her. When he was heavily wounded in the forest, on his last dying breath, he recalled the convulsion of her body when she climaxed. He recalled penetrating her, as her insides clenched tightly against him. He was reminded of his reason for this fight—to claim her as his.

"This plea of yours," Killorn hoarsely said. "I will fulfill it." 

Killorn bent and kissed the corner of her mouth. She froze, her gaze darting to him, almost alarmed.

"Relax," Killorn commanded.

How could Ophelia do such a thing? Her body was stiff as a fish out of water, her legs sliding backward on the bed, until her knees were in the air. He was nestled in between her thighs, his sharp stare resembling an awakened animal.

All Ophelia could do was clench at her lower part. She wanted to coil back, but where could she go? There was only the wooden headboard, the same one he once grasped whilst thrusting roughly inside of her.

With a large hand, he roughly grabbed her inner thighs. 

"It will hurt a bit, for it has been a while. Your entrance will not be used to me," Killorn muttered. "But I'll be gentle, my lovely wife."

Suddenly, he bent and pecked her on the knees.

"Y-you said that before too," Ophelia whispered. "A-and you weren't."

"Then I must lie to you again," Killorn mumbled, diving to kiss her inner thigh. The spot burned and she felt a familiar ache awaken from below.

Ophelia gasped, her toes curling. Her mind was dizzy with his charming words. Her wet nurse once told her not to believe what a man said in bed. They only wanted one thing from a woman. Some coaxed it, others forced it. 

Ophelia thought it would be the latter, but she realized it was the former.

"There is truly no turning back, Ophelia. If you want to leave, say it." Killorn rose from her bent knee to pierce her with his gaze. She was as tiny as a wounded animal. 

Ophelia slid her palms up to his upper arm. His black tunic was soft to the touch. His entire body stilled for her, despite the heat radiating off of him. She observed his neck, thick and strong. His words rang in her ears, quickening her heart. 

"Stay the night with me…" Ophelia rushed out.

Killorn could not deny her. Lips between her teeth, eyes trembling with innocence, and hair sprawled out for him, how could he dare to reject her? How could he not want to ravage through her? He wanted nothing more than to plunge deep into her.

"You don't even have to ask, my lovely wife." He coaxed her with sweet words that went straight to her head and heart. 

Despite how frightened Ophelia seemed of him, she was willing to let him consume her. He dived his head and saw her intimate body. 

"All of this loveliness belongs to me," Killorn muttered, cupping her breasts and garden. She gasped at his abrupt caress. He paused. Fuck. She was so wet, he was slowly losing his mind.

His words paralyzed her. Her eyes widened, her breath caught at her throat.

Killorn bowed his head and took a glance at what he had missed all these years. She was as beautiful as he last remembered. Smooth and silky skin, moist eyes, and body men would go to war for, there was nothing he missed more than her. 

"I wanted to come back much earlier," Killorn murmured.

Ophelia shivered at his warm and velvety voice. 

"W-why?" Ophelia hesitatingly asked. Was the battle hard? 

"I was beginning to forget the outlines of your body and your sweet voice," Killorn stated like it was no big deal. He didn't even bat an eye, even though it was the kindest thing anyone had told her. 

Ophelia's heart squeezed. 

"When I realized that, even with blood dripping from my abdomen, I went to slaughter what needed to be dead. One after the other." His tone was smooth and collected.

Ophelia froze. He was a cruel and heartless man. 

"Before I knew it, the battle was coming to an end, I was Alpha, and I had a woman to go home to," Killorn deadpanned.

Ophelia heard the rumors. Blood flowed like a river, skulls by his feet, and crows over his head. 

Killorn won every single battle… but no one knew who it was for. 

"People always thought I took the title because I was greedy, but truly," Killorn bent and kissed her on the forehead. "I only wanted you, Ophelia." 

Ophelia's words died in her throat. She didn't even know what to say. It took everything in her not to tear up at his words. What was he implying? Before she could think, he brushed the hair from her eyes. 

"I-I'm glad y-you returned s-safely," Ophelia whispered, not sure if she was saying the right thing.

Killorn chuckled, his lifeless gaze lightening a bit. The sound made her shiver as a warm blush spread across her face. He was momentarily bewitched before taking off his clothes until he was bare for her. 

Ophelia was breathless. 

His body was a statue that rivaled gods. Chiseled muscles, sun-kissed skin, and faint scars, she was dizzy. He was handsome and crafted of marble. Her head spun. There was a tight bandage wrapped across his right chest, where he must've been stabbed.

'I could heal him with my blood.' Ophelia couldn't even finish the thought.

"I'm glad as well." Killorn bent and kissed her forehead, then he lowered his mouth and latched upon a breast, her eyes widening. He gazed deep at her, his tongue swirling, and then, his hands lowering to the spot between her thighs.

It was time for him to consume the fruits of his hardwork.