Claimed by Desire (18+)
The King’s eyes traced every inch of her, not with haste—but with reverence too sharp to be gentle. Not a man in lust. A ruler possessing.
Lysara didn’t cover herself.
She stood in the firelight—bare, unflinching, regal even in her nakedness.
He breathed in slowly, as if anchoring himself.
One gloved hand lifted—he removed it, finger by finger, then dropped it aside.
She watched, chest rising and falling, her heartbeat heavy in her throat.
His fingertips brushed her collarbone. Just a touch—but it burned. He traced downward, slowly, over the line of her shoulder. Possessive. Careful. As if learning her by memory, not sight.
King Vaeron
“You don’t know,” he murmured, “how long I’ve imagined this.”
Lysara
She lifted her chin. “No. I do.”
Something flickered there—desire, yes, but something rawer underneath. Need. Hunger kept in chains for too long.
He leaned in, and when his lips met her throat, it wasn’t rushed—it was precise. A slow kiss, deliberate. The kind meant to claim and ruin at once.
Her hands found his shoulders—broad, unyielding. He was still mostly clothed, which made it worse somehow—like he was unwrapping her for himself, but not giving back just yet.
King Vaeron
“I dreamed of this skin,” he whispered against her chest. “I dreamed of kissing the scar beneath your ribs. Of hearing you gasp like you are now.”
King Vaeron
“I’ve taken kingdoms,” he said, tracing the curve of her waist with his hands. “But I’ve only ever wanted you.”
He led her back, slowly, until her calves brushed the bed.
Still, he didn’t push her down. His hands cupped her face, thumbs grazing her cheekbones, eyes locked with hers.
King Vaeron
“I want everything,” he said.
And everything unraveled.
It was not a kiss of comfort. It was possession wrapped in reverence. He drank her in slowly, savored the softness of her mouth, the tremble of her fingers as they slid up his neck.
He kissed her like she was something sacred.
Then he laid her down like a man placing his crown in the dark.
And there, by the fire’s flickering light, the King took what he believed was always his.
Not in haste.
Not in violence.
But in total, unyielding control.
And Lysara—body bare, heart conflicted—let him.
Because despite everything…
She had never been more powerful than she was beneath him.
Now that she’s no longer resisting.. her body language, her mind, voice and body are all in rhythm with him, screaming for him
King Vaeron
“Yes, my butterfly”
Lysara
“I still.. hate you”
He chuckles knowing fully of her lies and her childishness of pointing that out despite her being submissive to him
King Vaeron
“hate me all you want, but while møaning beneath me, burring me in your deepest”
Lysara
“Enoch is going to hear us”
He slowed down still in rhythm.. moving forward and out
Lysara covers her mouth biting in the sheets, suppressing her møans
King Vaeron
Gently pull out the sheet from her mouth “let me hear them”
King Vaeron
“I have missed this sound in last four years”
He spoke against her mouth then leaning in to press his lips on hers
He claimed her mother.. and mind with a kiss as he shoot in
Filing in with the warmth she couldn’t forget in four years
No matter the distraction.. her mind would always ends up with the thoughts of him
She was never the typical princess when her parents were in reign
She was rebellious and always interested in the forbidden road
Knowing well enough of this man’s intentions and the relation as uncle and niece.. she yet reach out for him
She also knew he wouldn’t let her down
After all her face was just like her mother
Her biggest asset and advantage
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