Chapter 5: The First Night

The heavy obsidian doors to Prince Thorne’s private chambers closed behind them with a soft, final click that sounded like the sealing of fate.

Elara stood in the centre of the room, heart hammering against her ribs. The sheer midnight gown clung to her sweat-dampened skin, doing nothing to hide the way her nipples had stayed hard since the humiliating display in the hall. The glowing violet runes on her wrists pulsed steadily, a constant reminder of the bargain.

Thorne circled her slowly, like a predator savouring the moment before the kill. Crystal lanterns floated overhead, casting a soft silver glow across the opulent space—black silk drapes, a massive bed piled with furs and velvet, walls adorned with living thorny vines that bloomed with glowing flowers. A balcony opened to the eternal twilight of the Evernight realm, where strange constellations wheeled overhead.

“You were exquisite tonight,” Thorne murmured, voice low and rough with hunger. “The way you trembled on my lap while the entire court watched… I could smell how wet you were.”

Elara’s cheeks burned. “I hated every second of it.”

“Liar.” He stopped behind her, his tall frame radiating cool power. His fingers brushed her shoulders, then slowly dragged the thin straps of her gown down her arms. The fabric whispered to the floor, pooling at her feet like spilt shadow. She stood completely naked before him once more.

Thorne’s hands settled on her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He was still fully clothed in his dark finery, the contrast making her feel even more exposed. “Your body doesn’t lie, Elara. Your scent, your racing pulse, the way your thighs pressed together in the hall… all of it betrays you.”

A wave of glamour washed over her—subtle, insidious magic that heightened every sensation. The cool air on her skin suddenly felt like a lover’s caress. Thorne’s breath against her neck became a spark of electricity.

He turned her in his arms and claimed her mouth again, deeper this time, slower. His tongue explored her with deliberate thoroughness, coaxing hers to dance with his. When she tried to pull away, the runes flared, sending a bolt of liquid pleasure straight to her core. She moaned into his mouth despite herself.

Thorne smiled against her lips. “Good girl. Fight me… and the magic will only make it sweeter.”

He guided her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the massive bed. With gentle but irresistible strength, he laid her down on the soft furs. Then he stepped back and began to undress.

Elara watched, unable to look away. His body was perfection carved from moonlight and shadow—broad shoulders, defined chest, narrow hips, and powerful thighs. When he finally shed the last piece of clothing, his cock rose thick and hard, flushed dark with arousal, the head already glistening. It was larger than any mortal man’s she had seen, intimidating and beautiful.

Thorne climbed over her, caging her with his arms. He didn’t enter her immediately. Instead, he took his time.

He kissed down her throat, sucking lightly at her pulse point until she whimpered. His mouth moved to her breasts, lavishing attention on each nipple—licking, sucking, grazing with his teeth while his glamour made every touch feel multiplied. It was as though ten mouths and twenty hands were worshipping her at once. Her back arched off the bed as pleasure crashed through her.

“Thorne…” she gasped, fingers tangling in his silver hair.

“Prince Thorne,” he corrected, voice husky. He slid lower, spreading her thighs wide and settling between them. His breath ghosted over her soaked pussy. “Look at you. Already dripping for your captor.”

He dragged his tongue slowly up her slit, savoring her taste. Then he focused on her clit, circling it with devastating precision. Two fingers slid inside her, curling expertly against that sensitive spot while his glamour amplified every stroke. The pleasure built unbearably fast, coiling tight in her belly.

Elara’s hips bucked, chasing release, but Thorne pulled back just as she was about to shatter.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You don’t come until I allow it.”

He edged her mercilessly—again and again. His tongue, his fingers, the teasing press of his cock against her entrance without pushing inside. Every time she neared the peak, he withdrew, leaving her panting and desperate, tears of frustration pricking her eyes.

“Please…” she finally whimpered, pride crumbling under the onslaught.

Thorne rose over her, positioning the thick head of his cock at her entrance. His black eyes burned into hers. “Say my name properly.”

“Prince Thorne,” she breathed, voice breaking. “Please…”

He thrust in slowly—agonizingly slowly—stretching her open inch by inch. The glamour made it feel like he was filling her everywhere at once. Elara cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as her body adjusted to his size.

Once buried to the hilt, he stilled, letting her feel every throb, every pulse of his cock deep inside her.

Then he began to move.

Long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive nerve. The glamoured pleasure intensified until she was sobbing with it, legs wrapped around his waist, hips rising to meet every thrust. The runes on her wrists glowed brighter with each powerful movement, feeding pleasure back into the bond.

Thorne’s control finally frayed. His thrusts grew harder, faster, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing through the chamber. He reached between them, thumb circling her clit.

“Come for me, Elara,” he commanded, voice rough. “Scream my name.”

The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. She came apart violently, back arching, pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock as she screamed, “Prince Thorne!”

He followed moments later with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and spilling inside her in hot, endless pulses. The magic between them flared, binding the moment deeper into their souls.

For long minutes afterward, they stayed locked together, breathing hard. Thorne brushed damp strands of hair from her face, an unexpectedly tender gesture.

“You are mine for this year,” he whispered against her lips. “And tonight was only the beginning.”

Elara closed her eyes, body still trembling with aftershocks, hatred and dark, unwanted pleasure warring inside her chest.

The first night was over.

But the hunger in Thorne’s eyes promised many more to come.

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