POV Kiara
His lips moved hungrily against mine, breath hot and broken, every kiss messier than the last. I ground down against him, desperate for friction, and the sound he made—a deep, guttural growl in his throat—ignited something deeper in me.
My shorts were already damp, clinging between my thighs, and the hard length of him beneath me was very real and very ready.
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal as he tried to catch his breath between kisses.
But words were useless now.
So I lifted my hips just long enough to yank my shorts down and off, tossing them somewhere behind me.
Then I reached between us, sliding my hand into the waistband of his pants and pulling him free. Thomen was hot and hard in my palm, twitching as I stroked him; as growls rumbled deep in his chest like a wild beast while I took control.
Guiding him along my soaked slit and teasing the tip against myself, I sank down onto him in one slow shattering motion that made my eyes roll back.
I started moving, slow at first, just rolling my hips in that lazy, deliberate grind that made us both tremble. His cock dragging against every inch inside me with perfect friction.
Thomen’s hands gripped my tights, fingers digging into my skin as I began to ride him—hard, desperate, soaked in sweat and lust.
His eyes were half-lidded as he watched me take everything he gave.
“Kiara… fuck,” he groaned, hips jerking up to meet every grind of my hips. “You’re feeling so good and tight, darling.”
“I can’t stop,” I gasped, nails raking down his chest. “It’s just… I need more of you.”
My movements were driven by the strange hunger and a fierce desire unlike anything I'd experienced before. I couldn't explain the desperate need that drove every movement even if I’d wanted to.
Thomen’s head had fallen back against the couch cushions, lips parted, breath ragged as he couldn’t even take his eyes off me.
Warm hands roamed my body like he was worshipping it.
Tracing the curve of my breasts, the slope of my waist, up my thighs and back down again. I leaned forward, bracing my hands on his chest, our mouths crashing together as I picked up the pace.
The slick sound of our bodies moving together grew louder—filthy, wet and beautiful.
Thomen met every grind of my hips with an upward thrust of his own, matching my rhythm. Pushing deeper, harder, until we were both gasping, covered in sweat and moans.
My climax built fast, sharp and searing, winding tight in my belly as his cock hit just right, again and again.
“I’m gonna— Thomen, I’m—”
“Come for me,” he begged, voice wrecked. “Right here, darling. Make a mess on me.”
I shattered with a cry, my body locking tight as I came, wave after wave crashing through me. My thighs trembled as I rode out every last pulse, every aftershock making me twitch with oversensitivity.
Thomen cursed under his breath, and then with one final thrust, he was there too, burying his face in my neck as he held me down.
Our breaths mingled, bodies still shaking, soaked and ruined.
My thighs ached from the aftermath of our shared release, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. There was something driving me, something hot and clawing and deep in my belly that no orgasm could silence.
Every time I ground down against him, every time he moaned my name, I felt it roaring back to life.
A hunger that pulsed beneath my skin and refused to be sated.
Without understanding why, I rose up from his chest again, my need evident in every line of my body as I looked down at him.
"Couldn't get enough tonight, darling?" Thomen murmured with a smirk.
His voice was thick with satisfied exhaustion and renewed desire. His hands traced lazy patterns on my thighs, clearly ready to continue despite our intense encounter.
I kissed him fiercely, drinking in the taste of him, the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue met mine with unfiltered need. My nails raked down his chest, leaving angry red trails that he groaned for rather than flinched from.
"I need more," I whispered, not entirely sure what I meant.
"Then take it," he said, his eyes dark with want.
My lips found his throat, hot and slick with sweat, and I kissed a line across the sharp line of it. Tasting salt and skin and the thrum of his pulse just beneath the surface.
Thomen moaned my name again and tilted his head for me without hesitation. A wordless offering that made my heart twist and my body ache all over again. The sight of his exposed neck sent a jolt of hunger through me that was both familiar and terrifying.
I leaned down slowly, drawn by instincts I didn't understand, and began with gentle kisses along the warm skin of his throat. His hips grinding against me while he was still inside me, still thick and pulsing.
And every inch of friction only made my body crave more.
“I could stay like this forever,” he whispered with devotion and bliss.
His words emboldened me, and I let my teeth graze his skin more boldly. Each nip drew soft gasps of pleasure from him, his hands leaving loving scratch marks on my skin as he held me closer.
When my teeth suddenly pierced his skin and blood welled up, something inside me exploded with recognition and desperate hunger.
The taste of him—hot, rich and unmistakably his—hit something primal inside me that I hadn’t known existed. It flooded me with a satisfaction so fierce and raw that I moaned against his throat.
My hips moved on instinct, grinding down against him with slow, sensual need, feeling his cock throb inside me in response to every suck of my mouth.
My body trembling as I lapped at the blood now welling from the wound. Drawing more of the life-giving fluid that somehow quenched the ravenous thirst I hadn't even realized was consuming me.
"Fuck, Kiara," Thomen moaned, completely lost in the sensation of my mouth on his throat.
His pleasure vibrated against my lips, and he seemed entirely unaware of the blood, interpreting my actions as an extension of our passionate play.
The satisfaction was immediate and overwhelming.
The gnawing emptiness inside me began to quiet, replaced by a warm fullness.
I felt him start to lose control, his grip trembling as the rhythm began to fall apart under the weight of sensation. And just when I thought I might come again, just from the taste of him, he flipped us.
In one breathless movement, he pinned me beneath him, his body covering mine completely and the weight of him grounding me as he crushed his mouth to mine.
The kiss was deep, demanding, his tongue tasting his own blood on my lips. Then he kissed lower, down the curve of my jaw, across the sensitive skin of my neck. So when I tilted my head and bared my throat for him, there was no hesitation.
His teeth found the spot, and then he bit me—deep and sure.
The moment his fangs broke through my skin, pleasure surged through me so intense and so absolute, my second orgasm hit like a lightning strike as I came harder than I ever had before.
Thomen held me tightly, his mouth still at my throat. Buried deep inside me, he gave a final groan and followed me into release.
His entire body trembling above mine as we came together in the most primal, soul-deep way imaginable.
And in the silence that followed, with his breath still heavy against my neck and my blood on his lips, the hunger that had consumed me for days finally—finally—went quiet.