Chapter Forty-four: The Morning After

SIGRUN

I slowly stirred awake, deliciously aware of being comfortably snug in a warm, solid cocoon.

My eyes were still shut, my mind caught in that hazy, heavy twilight between deep sleep and waking life. The world outside didn't exist yet. There was only the thick scent of cedar, winter air, and the underlying spice of a dominant male that I had spent the last month trying to convince myself I didn’t crave.

Before I could even fully register the weight of the massive body pressed against my back, a wave of sensory overload hit me.

My eyelids remained closed, but my breath instantly hitched. A slow, rhythmic friction was happening against my core. Long, calloused fingers were moving over my brèasts, thumbing the sensitive peaks of my nípples until they hardened into tight buds. At the exact same time, a hot, thick thumb swiped down between my legs, circling my sensitized clít with a deliberate, maddening pressure.

I let out a soft, low moan, my hips reflexively arching backward into the solid wall of muscle behind me.

That was when I felt it—a thick, blunt, incredibly large intrusion sliding smoothly into my slick opening. He didn't even push all the way in; he just hovered there, filling me to a breathless capacity while his hand continued to stroke my clit, his chest rumbling against my spine.

The heat inside my lower belly exploded instantly. The barrage of intense pleasure from the night before had left me primed, completely raw and ready to snap at the slightest touch. I rode the delicious, overwhelming wave as a gentle but deep clímax rippled through my body. I squeezed tightly around the thick length inside me, my toes curling against the plush furs as a soft sigh breathed out past my lips. I smiled, sated.

Now, I didn’t mind waking up that way for many more mornings in my lifetime.

A low, husky chuckle vibrated directly against my back, sending a shiver straight down my spine.

My eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking against the sudden transition. I rolled onto my back, the heavy, thick length sliding out of me with a wet, agonizingly slow friction that made me whimper at the loss.

I looked up, staring straight into a pair of intense amber eyes. They were dancing with heavy amusement, heavily hooded with a dark, primal lust and a staggering amount of pure male satisfaction.

“Good morning, princess,” Varul said. His voice was gravelly, rough from sleep, and deep enough to vibrate through the mattress.

I noticed then that the room was bright. Soft, pale winter daylight was entering through the high windows, illuminating the vast stone chamber and casting a golden glow over his broad, bare shoulders. The realization of exactly where I was—and what we had been doing just seconds ago—slammed into me.

My cheeks instantly warmed with a fierce, burning blush. I pulled the heavy furs up to my chin. “Good morning,” I mumbled shyly, my voice sounding small and breathless even to my own ears.

Every single memory from last night came rushing back in vivid, high-definition detail. The way he had eatèn me out until I screamed and begged him to stop, the demanding, filthy things he had growled into my ear, the sheer, unyielding size of him stretching me open, and the absolute dominance of his body.

My mind was reeling, completely unable to reconcile this possessive, breathtakingly handsome king with the distant man I’d fought with for weeks.

Varul softly pushed a stray lock of hair away from my face. His knuckles brushed against my cheek, his touch so unexpectedly gentle, so incredibly tender for a man of his size, that something dangerously soft fluttered in my chest.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked softly, his gaze scanning every inch of my flushed face.

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry.

*Ugh, get a grip, Sigrun,* I scolded myself internally. I was acting exactly like a shy, trembling vírigin who had been deliciously ruined by a rogue in one of those cheesy Harlequin romance books I used to binge-read back home.

Which, honestly… I kind of was. I had zero frame of reference for a man looking at me like I was his entire world, let alone a literal Alpha werewolf king who had just legally and supernaturally claimed my body, with my consent.

But still.

There was something absolutely wonderful about feeling soft, beautiful, feminine, and fiercely protected in the arms of a handsome, hyper-masculine man. Sue me. Reformed feminíst logic had no power here.

“Does it still hurt?” Varul asked.

At first, my brain short-circuited. I thought he was asking about my intimate parts—which were definitely throbbed with a dull, highly satisfied ache—and my blush deepened until I felt like my face was on fire. But then his large fingers trailed down to caress a specific, highly sensitive spot at the base of my neck.

The mark.

The second his fingertips touched the raised, newly healed skin where his fangs had sunk in, a strange, phantom jolt passed through my chest. For a split second, I felt a bizarre echo, a lingering sensation like I was missing something else—something massive that had happened right after the bond. A fleeting memory of cold, or a voice… but try as I might, the thought slipped through my fingers like water. The exhaustion of the orgasms must have made me black out.

I gave up trying to think about it after a few seconds, letting the comforting warmth of his body wash over me.

I reached up, pressing a finger over his hand where it rested against the mark. The skin was warm, pulsing with a low, electric hum that connected his heartbeat directly to mine.

“Not really,” I answered him, looking up through my eyelashes. “It’s just… a dull ache.”

“Good,” he said, his lips twitching into a wicked, devastating smile.

My mind instantly reminded me of the filthy things those exact lips had done to my body hours prior. We shared a long, heavy stare, the air between us thick and rapidly heating up again.

A dark lock of his thick hair fell forward, shadowing his brow. Reflexively, without even thinking, I reached my hand out of the safety of the furs and slid my fingers through the strands, gently pulling it back from his face.

Varul’s smile widened, his amber eyes darkening to a dangerous pitch. My heart tripped over itself.

He didn't say another word. He simply lowered his head, his massive frame shifting over me as his mouth found mine.

It began almost like a chaste, sweet morning kíss—a soft brushing of lips, a gentle testing of boundaries. But within seconds the kiss blossomed into something entirely dirty, deep, and completely toe-curling. His tongue slid into my mouth, claiming me with a hungry, possessive stroke that made me gasp.

His large hands abandoned my face, sliding down to grip my bare waist, his calloused palms dragging over my sensitive skin. I let out a loud, breathless moan as his hand pressed hard into my hip, anchoring me to the mattress. He groaned deep in his chest—a rough, animalistic sound that told me exactly how much control he was losing.

Before my brain could process the movement, he gripped my hips firmly, lifting me completely off the mattress. In one smooth, powerful motion, he flipped us.

Suddenly, I was the one sitting up, straddling his massive, sculpted thighs. The heavy, rigid steel of his erection was pressed hard against my lower belly, hot and dripping with prècúm against my slick thighs.

“Ride me, princess,” he growled hoarsely, his hands settling on my hips to guide me. “Take what is yours.”

*What is mine.*

I liked the sound of that.

My breath caught as I looked down at him. His bare chest was completely exposed, the black wolf tattoo shifting as his lungs expanded. Holding his heated gaze, I arched my back, braced my hands against his hard shoulders, and slowly lowered myself down onto his length.

“Ah… Varul,” I gasped, my head tossing back.

He sank deep into me—deeper than he had last night in this position. The sheer, overwhelming fullness of him stretched my walls completely, filling my core until I felt entirely consumed by him.

I began to move, sliding up and down his thick shaft, my internal muscles clamping around him in tight, desperate pulses. Varul’s hands tightened on my hips like steel vices, lifting me and setting the brutal, demanding rhythm as I rode him.

The wet, rhythmic friction of our bodies combined with the ragged sound of our breathing filled the quiet room. I watched his face—his jaw clenched, the veins standing out on his neck, his eyes burning with an absolute obsession as he watched my breasts sway with the movement.

The pleasure built too fast, too intense. My sensitized core couldn't take the friction. Within minutes, a blinding, white-hot peak rushed over me. I let out a loud, broken cry, my walls violently convulsing around his length as I completely collapsed forward onto his broad chest.

The sudden, intense squeezing of my climax broke his control entirely. Varul let out a feral roar, his hips thrusting upward one last time, driving himself impossibly deep inside me as he came, pouring his thick warmth deep into my core.

We both lay that way for a long time, completely spent, our sweat-glistening skin glued together. His heavy, muscular arms wrapped tightly around my back, pinning me to his chest as our hearts hammered in a frantic, synchronized rhythm.

I smiled against his shoulder, utterly sated.

*Knock. Knock.*

A sharp, firm rap against the heavy oak doors shattered the silence.

I froze at the sound. I’d forgotten anything else existed outside this room. Varul cleared his throat, his deep voice carrying easily across the room. “Enter.”

“What?!” I whisper-yelled at him, my head snapping up as I stared at him in absolute, shocked dismay.

The infuriating man just lay there on his back, his lips curling into a thoroughly amused, arrogant smirk.

The heavy iron doorknob began to turn.

“Oh my God,” I hissed, scrambling off his body so fast I almost tripped over the furs. I threw myself onto my side of the bed, frantically pulling the massive layers of sheets and heavy pelts up to my chin, tucking myself into a tight, invisible ball.

I glanced over at the other side of the bed. The infuriatingly confident Alpha King was still lying there, completely and gloriously naked. He didn't have a single shred of modesty, completely unbothered by his own nudity as he lazily leaned back against the headboard.

“Varul, cover up!” I panicked, reaching out from under my sheet cocoon to frantically grab a handful of the discarded blankets, tossing them blindly across his waist just as the massive oak doors swung open.

A line of three quiet, neutral-faced castle maids entered the room—one of whom was Conny—completely keeping their eyes elsewhere as they carried large silver trays filled with steaming food, fresh water pitchers, and clean linens.

I hid half my burning face beneath the furs, wishing the stone floor would open up and swallow me whole, while the man beside me simply rested a heavy, possessive hand over my covered hip, looking like a king who had just conquered his entire world.