The Crowned Captive

Rowan sincerely hoped he didn’t look as much like a cornered mouse as he felt, the thoughts of his broken nose surfacing. Morana, decked in her leathers and a look that could kill, stood in the doorway of his rooms. Not only was she out of her rooms unsupervised, but she had also managed to find his rooms without qualms. He had an odd feeling about how she found out where they were located, and made a mental note to deck the dark-haired elf when he had the chance. That was if he got through his blonde... friend? Lover? Whatever they were.

“I am not moving from this doorway until you talk to me, and you are not removing me from it until I get answers,” she ground out as she crossed her arms, strengthening her stance as Cordan had taught. Something glinted in her hands as he watched the movement - a damned dagger. How on earth she had gotten a hold of it when she hadn’t been given clearance by the king was beyond him. He suspected it was another thing he had to question his supposed brother about. Nor could he let her leave with it still in her grasp.

“I am sure you are aware that I can easily remove you from the doorway if necessary, your Highness,” he replied. He did not let on that he doubted that it really would be all that easy with how far she had proceeded in her training already.

“That may very well be true if my blade was not tipped with a rather familiar paralytic. If you run, I will cut you, and you will sit and listen to every. Damned. Thing. I have to say. Whether you like it or not, this is happening Rowan. You have no more chances to run or weasel your way out of things.”

His perfect princess was like a tempest as she stalked towards him, her ocean eyes churning like a stormy sea. He recognised Cordan’s training in her movements, so fluid and easy, and swallowed. He may well have ordered the creation of his downfall, and he would only be thanked for it. If she mastered her magic, she would be truly unstoppable.

He was utterly still, standing in the foyer, as Morana came to a halt in front of him and placed the tip of the blade against his tunic, the tip scratching lightly against his lower stomach. She glared up at him, those eyes searching his face for any tell of him trying to escape her. He had absolutely no doubt that if she saw one she would stab now and ask questions later. His heart slowed in his chest as he waited for the onslaught of spite from the woman who had opened her heart to him, only to be left all but brutalised in a field for his friend to find naked and alone.

“What the fuck goes through your empty head?” She spat, and he felt his chest tighten. It was finally confirmed then, she hated him. She did not stop even though he knew his pain was blatantly plastered on his face, unable to be hidden from her any longer. “Do you even listen? Are you listening now, Rowan?”

“I am listening, Morana,” he whispered, preparing for the onslaught he deserved. She would tear him apart, either verbally or physically, and he deserved every second of it for what he had done to her. He wished his friend and the gods were there to help, to get all of his punishments over at once, but that would be too kind for someone like him.

“I had wished that I had knocked some sense into you yesterday, but I see it is impossible. You have avoided me for over a week now. Every time I have tried to talk to you, you have disappeared like a shadow in the light. You have turned me away every chance I have had to show you kindness.Cordan, the very person I have been trying to keep out of whatever we have between us, had to explain that you are doing this because you are guilty."

“I am sorry, I truly am. I tried to apologise that night, but I know guilt alone is not enough. I will go through whatever you believe is required for me to atone for what I did.” His voice faltered as he spoke, and his knees gave way underneath him. Morana yelled then, and he flinched as he saw the dagger raise above her head. His eyes flew back open when he heard the dagger thud into the wall a few feet behind him. He turned his head to see it reverberating in the wood from a near-perfect throw. She dropped to her knees in front of him then, and he turned to her, confusion over his face. He sat perfectly still, barely a breath escaping his lips, as she gently laid her hands on each of his cheeks.

“For the thousandth time, Rowan, you do not need to apologise or atone. You did nothing wrong. Gods, you did everything so beautifully right. For a centuries-old creature of magic, you are absolutely idiotic some days.” Rowan’s brow furrowed as Morana looked up at him with ever-so-gentle eyes. “I wanted that night, have craved it since the first day we spent together despite every logical thought in my brain. I begged you for it if you don’t remember. That wasn’t just to please you, every second of it was bliss. If you think otherwise, Rowan, you are a blind fool.”

Her voice was barely a whisper as those words tumbled from her mouth, and she gazed up into his face with a look that said a thousand more softly spoken words. Those stormy eyes had softened and stared so painfully into his soul. Not only had she forgiven him for what should have displeased any woman and the gods watching, but she didn’t hate him at all... His hardened heart cracked a little as she held him ever so gently, waiting for his response. He still had a chance with her. No more mistakes.

He tried to leash his hunger as he kissed her, ignoring the tear that rolled down his cheek. She shuddered beneath him and melted completely into his embrace. His mouth searched hers as gently as he possibly could. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, and his hair, threatening to break the leash he had placed so firmly on himself. He would not lose himself, not again. He would not risk hurting her or losing her again.

“Please, Rowan. More,” she panted against him, quivering in his arms like an addict finally getting their fix. His hands roamed over those damned training leathers, an outfit he nearly wished he had never given her. His hands brushed over her hip, and he hooked one hand in the leather belt loops there, using it to pull her more completely into his lap. She was so fragile in his grasp, so completely his. He swallowed his need down again, worshipping her body with his. Her hands reached up, tangling deeper in his tunic, fiddling with the buttons. A little frustrated growl escaped her, and he sat perfectly still as she grasped each side and ripped. An animalistic moan escaped him then, and he had to break himself away for a second to struggle to control himself once more. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to Morana having shed the top of her leathers, and her hands reaching for his pants. His moan was not one of a warrior as her fingers brushed over his cock through the rough fabric. He had denied himself for so long, knowing himself not worthy, that he was painfully sensitive. Morana looked up at him with that sound, a playful grin rising to her flushed cheeks. She yanked his trousers down, and took his cock in both hands, stroking it. He closed his eyes and tipped his head once more, trying to not come undone under her touch.

"Fuck,” he swore, the word tearing from him involuntarily as he felt Morana’s tongue leave a burning trail as she licked up the underside of his cock and her mouth fastened over the ever-so-sensitive tip. She looked up at him, those eyes sparkling as she watched him melt under her hands and lips, and he reached out to cradle her face. She groaned against him then, the reverberations buzzing over his skin as she nudged her head into his hand.

He cursed again as she suddenly took as much of his length into her mouth as possible, looking up at him the entire time. How she knew how to do this, he had no clue. He tipped his head back, a moan of pure pleasure escaping him as she drew herself up, her hand twisting up the rest of his length as she did so. Her tongue circled that sensitive end again, and he found his hands in her hair. He looked back down at her, expecting to see her apprehensive, but she was completely willing, playful even, as he pulled her head down along his length by her hair. He felt her gag as he pressed his cock against the back of her throat, and all his will to hold out left him. He grunted as he thrust himself into her mouth and felt her gag on him again. Tears rolled down her cheeks as those fucking perfect blue eyes stared up at him, still sparking as she gagged around him.

Looking down at her, he couldn’t hold off anymore. He needed her, all of her, now. He needed to feel himself sheathed inside her. She gasped in surprise as he pulled her head back, bent down and then lifted her so her legs were around his waist. He carried her then to the wall, his bed being too far. He needed her now. She gasped again as he slammed her against it, using his own body to hold her up as he dragged his teeth down her neck and buried his length within her.

His world threatened to explode as she clenched down at his sudden intrusion. She moaned, deep and heartily as he growled into her. He panted against her, struggled to hold back his release as he withdrew and plunged into her again, and again, her face a mess as she clawed at his back. The pure ecstasy that showed on her face and in those moans was enough to undo any man, but he fought against himself, not wanting to disappoint his princess with a quick finish.

“Don’t hold back, Rowan, I want all of you,” she breathed against him.

“You won’t find your completion if I don’t hold back,” he growled into her, barely holding on to his control.

“Don’t. Hold. Back,” she growled, each word punctuated with a thrust. She dug her fingers into his shoulders then, and he finally gave himself over.

It was three hard thrusts before his completion found him, and Rowan leaned against Morana panting. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, allowing him to hold her upright against the wall. He held did so, not wanting to let go in case this was all some sort of dream, some sort of fantasy, and she would go back to hating him. But as he pulled away to look down on her face, no malice sat there. He kissed her again, feeling his body already trying to ready itself once more, before easing her to her feet. Without another word, he led her to his bathroom.

He hoped that she was impressed with all he had. The rooms were larger than hers and grander, and very rarely sported visitors. The tub that sat centred in the room was enormous, enough to fit a small family comfortably inside. Mirrors covered the back wall, showing Rowan such a delightful picture of his princess in front of him, face awed, as they walked forward. The vanities on either side of the room were covered in bottles and potions and tinctures, each to moisturise or aromatise the skin. He let her take the whole sight in as he walked over to the tub.

Whilst it ran, and after he had filled it with liquids to make it smell as delightful as she did, Rowan walked back over to Morana and kissed her once more. He hoped he never got sick of her touch, the little breathless sound she made as his lips met hers, the whimper she gave out as he worried her breasts again. She was perfect, all he needed in his life, and she had given him a chance despite his breaking of every rule in a proper courtship. He pushed the thought from his head, leaning down to nip at her neck, his heartbeat increasing at the beautiful moans his fangs against her skin produced. Before he could ruin his fun, he pulled himself from her and led her to the bath.

Rowan marvelled at her as she climbed in, eyeing her already-filling curves. A few weeks of actual food and her figure was already becoming womanly already. As she turned back to him and sunk into the water, cheeks flushed, he knew he would not wait any longer for her. She sucked a breath in between her teeth as he joined her, his cock hard between his legs. He made his way over to her through the giant tub, eyes never leaving hers as he came to kneel in front of her resting against the edge.

“I know we only just finished, but I want you again already. Please,” he breathed, looking up at her perfectly pouty lips, thinking of how they had felt around him.

“Rowan, you don’t need to beg,” she began, resting her hand on his cheek.

“But I do. I made you beg when I should have cherished you, worshipped you through something sacred. Now I atone for that. Please, Morana. Right here, let me have you once more.”

Her answer was her lips against his, hard and furious, and Rowan grinned into them. His answer received, he grabbed her, swapping their positions and placing her in his lap. His hands wandered, digging into the soft flesh of her ass, wrapping around the column of her neck. She gasped as he pulled his mouth from hers, nipping down her neck, biting down, drawing that ever-so-soft skin through his teeth as he reached the crook of her neck. Her answering moan set his every nerve alight as he left his mark.

“Now, please,” he groaned as she ran her tongue across his ear, teeth grazing against the lobe. He struggled to restrain himself, to continue righting his wrong.

“I don’t know how,” she whispered, pulling away from him, staring down at the minimal space between them.

“How you know how to worship a cock like that but not how to ride one is a story you must tell me later,” he said with a grin, enjoying the shyness the statement brought to her face. “Let me guide you. You can’t do anything wrong. Please, Morana.”

Rowan tipped his head back in pleasure as she lowered herself over him, her every twitch bliss. Slowly at first, he guided her hips, showing her how to move. He watched her, that bashful face, those flushed cheeks, her perfectly full tits as she ground herself against him, losing herself in the pleasure. He lost himself in the feel of her too as she began to gain the confidence to increase the tempo. His hips rose to meet hers in the churning water and it was not long before she found her climax. He followed her high nearly immediately, the spasm of her sex around him too much to resist. They stayed like that for a minute, her straddled against him still, collapsed into his shoulder. As she recovered he ran his hands through her hair and cradled her to him, his perfect princess.

They finally made it to his bed. Rowan was grateful to have, for once, made it since his recent intrusions. He laid Morana down amongst the pillows, marvelling at her beauty as he joined her.

“I’m sorry for nearly killing you,” Morana whispered, and Rowan laughed despite himself. Pulling her close to him, he planted a kiss on top of her head.

“I am sorry for making you angry enough to do that. I know you didn’t mean it,” he replied as he pulled her in against him, even though he was still uncertain of the fact.