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tusks-and-claws · 10 days

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Fae King × Female Reader

Summary: your father, the Human King, is away at war. His advisor attempts to arrange a marriage for you, but you hastily think up other plans. Plans that involve your steadfast and mysterious personal knight, whose face you've never seen and voice you've never heard

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, monstrous fae, monstrous traits, first time, fated match, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, mating press, primal and slightly feral, mind link, breeding/mating

Wordcount: 6.4k

In the distance, you could see your father's advisor seated upon a chair next to the throne, diminutive in its shadow. Your father had been gone for several years now, away on a foreign war campaign that you understood very little of. But you knew he was alive. And, for now, that much was enough. You prayed for his return every night, for him to take back control.

The echoing of your footsteps to the throne room was thunderous, and the metallic clanking of your knight's gait behind you even more so. You looked back to him for reassurance before the kingsguard opened the heavy wooden doors. He kept his left hand on the grip of his sword, always vigilant. Always ready. As ever, his face was shielded by his gleaming helmet, but the sight of his armored visage was comfort enough. He offered you a single nod, and you raised a hand in signal to the guards. The doors were laboriously opened.

You walked forward, your knight behind you, stopping in front of the stout man in the chair.

"Olrick." You said, greeting him.

"Princess," his smile was too wide, his tone too sweet. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

You lived in the castle, the same as him. The pomp and circumstance of this meeting was beyond you. You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes.

"What have you summoned me for?"

"To fulfill your duties, my Princess."

You narrowed your eyes, goading him to continue.

"The campaign has taken a poor turn, and after such a long and valiant effort. Our enemies have us backed into a corner, so to speak. The next victory cannot be a martial one, but it may be a political one."

"Get to the point, my Lord."

He steepled his fingers in front of his chin, his lips pursed as he considered you. "...Far too long have you been without a match. You will be marrying our enemy's son. He is only a year older than you, and he is an accomplished warrior. The alliance will be a powerful one."

You felt your face grow hot and your head become light. "M-my Lord, I- I cannot-"

"Oh, come now, child." His voice lost all sense of placation, all false joy. "You didn't honestly think that you would marry for love, did you? Especially at your age? You pretty fool. Consider yourself lucky I didn't marry you off to the likes of the Fae. Your father's false alliance with them bore no fruit. A human man is far less objectionable than some forest-dwelling monster. This betrothal is what your father would have wanted."

His audacity was all too apparent. You knew that one day you'd have to marry, but your father assured you it would never be to an enemy. This had to be a plot spun by Olrick alone.

Suddenly, you could hear the metallic slide of your knight's sword being slowly drawn from its sheath.

Olrick stood up. "Do not dare draw your weapon before me, Sir Aelar. Get this invalid wretch out of my sight." He signaled to the guard and they started reaching for Sir Aelar.

Before they could get to him, he had already swept you into his arms to carry you from the throne room and to your quarters. You closed your eyes, trying to keep the tears from flowing. Your fingers found their way to the edges of his breastplate, holding onto the metal there for stability. The heat from his body had made the metal warm to the touch. You forced yourself to think on the smooth, warm steel until he reached your quarters and placed you down onto your bed, shutting and locking the door behind him. He was in your room now, his large frame so out of place.

You looked at him there, standing guard at your bedroom door. You sat upright, running your hands through your hair.

"Aelar…?" You asked.

He looked at you.

"I know you cannot speak, but… I cannot let my mind dwell on the inevitability of this betrothal."

He cocked his head slightly in question.

"May I ask you questions? To occupy my thoughts? Just yes or no… you need only nod or shake your head."

He nodded.

"You're not from here, are you…?"

He thought for a moment. Then shook his head.

"My father found you four years ago… he said you sustained an injury that made it so you were… disfigured. And couldn't speak."

It wasn't a question but he nodded still.

"He found you and knighted you right before he left…."

Nod.

You suddenly stood, rushing over to him, grabbing his mailed hands and holding them tightly. "Take me. Take me to wherever you came from. Let me leave this place."

He shook his head no.

"Please, Aelar…." You looked up to his covered face, desperately trying to find his eyes behind the helm. Despite yourself, you began reaching for his helmet. He jerked his head away, your open hand stopping midair and closing into a small fist. "You won't even let me look upon the face of the man who's protected me for these past four years?"

He shook his head again, but this time, it seemed resigned. Regretful. He grabbed your hand from the air, forcing your fingers apart and placing it on his breastplate, over where his heart would be.

Your emotions swelled, hot tears pooling in your eyes.

"Why won't you take me?" You asked, knowing he couldn't answer. "You're one of the only people I feel safe around, Aelar. And you're- you're such a fast rider. We could have disappeared before anyone knew."

He raised a hand to gently pet your hair and you leaned into his touch.

"Is it far?"

Yes.

"Do you still have family there?"

Yes.

"Are you married?"

No.

At that answer, more tears came. He cocked his head again, slowly, confused.

"It's just that… if I were ever given the choice to marry someone… I think I would have chosen you."

He shook his head no again.

"Please," you repeated. "Let me see your face. Just once. Let me look at the man that I would have called husband, had I the choice."

"No." Aelar said. He… spoke? And his voice. It didn't sound like one, but many. Many voices overlapping. Like something from a dreamscape. "We will frighten the Princess."

"W-we…?" You started to back away, but tripped on an uneven tile.

He caught you gently by the wrist, pulling you back in. "We will not hurt the Princess. It is our oath."

"Who are you?" You asked, steadying your balance by placing your hands on his breastplate despite yourself, fingers splayed. He was still as solid as ever.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he seemed to search his thoughts for some explanation.

"We will frighten the Princess," Aelar repeated. The deep purring hum of his voices vibrated the steel under your fingertips.

You shook your head, unable to comprehend this. "If you are some demon, some fiend, and my father has trusted you-"

He raised a mailed hand to your head again, cutting you off as he smoothed your hair. You let him. "No demon. No fiend."

"Then what?" You whispered.

He spoke slowly and mindfully. "We are the Heart of the Red Forest. A melding of this body and spirit, and the soul of the forest itself. One might think of us as a King."

"But you're… you're not Aelar." This didn't make sense. This didn't feel real.

"Aelar was our name once. We are more than Aelar, now." He looked down at you, tilting his head in consideration. "We chose to use the name so as to not frighten the princess. She seems to find the name… agreeable."

"Why are you here? I-if you're the King of the Fae in the Red Forest… why are you here?"

"The one called Olrick is a fool." His voices were level. "The Human King's alliance with us is strong. He has given us back sacred land that his forefathers had taken. And in exchange… we offered to protect the princess until his return." He tilted his head again, to the opposite side. "She has many enemies. We are strong enough to keep them far from her, and keep her safe and unknowing."

He paused.

"Unknowing… until now. We did not wish for her to find out like this. To know at all. We are sorry."

You furrowed your brow, your hands still pressed to the metal of his armored chest. Your head swirled with thoughts and memories of him. With his warmth against the pads of your fingers. With his voices humming in the back of your mind.

Until an idea struck you.

Something can be done here.

"Wed me." You said, your words fast.

His head jerked back in reaction, the metal fasteners of his armor clinking in response. He hadn't expected that.

"Wed me," you continued, "and the alliance will be even stronger. If you reveal yourself to Olrick as a King, the Fae King, he cannot stop you."

He tilted his head in consideration as he placed his hands on your shoulders. An unspoken conversation buzzed in the air between your bodies as you held to each other.

"We are very fond of the princess," Aelar began. You tried not to let your heart catch on those words. "Does she really believe that we may walk out the palace gates unhindered?"

"Does my father trust you?" You asked.

"Yes"

"And are you powerful, my King?"

He started slightly, his breath hitching in his chest at hearing the honorific spoken from your lips. "Very," he answered.

"Then once you reveal your true self… who can stop you?"

He paused to think once more, then calmed your nerves with a single nod.

"To the throne room," you commanded.

He knelt, sweeping you up in his embrace again, holding you securely in the crook of one strong arm. When the two of you reached your destination, Olrick was still seated in his chair. Seething. He stood quickly upon seeing you in your knight's grasp, too quickly, and nearly stumbled to the stone floor.

"Have you come to your senses, Princess?"

You didn't speak. With his free hand, Aelar reached for the rim of his helm, finally lifting it away. He tossed it to the ground with a clatter as you stared in awe at him. What was revealed was otherworldly. His skin was a pale, pearly white. Luminescent in the dusky throne room. The handsome angles of his face were further intensified by the sharp, inhuman peaks of his cheekbones and an aquiline nose. His hair was raven black as it flowed from his helm, landing just at his shoulders, the points of his elongated ears peeking through. A pair of brown, ram-like horns curled out from the high points of his forehead.

When you searched for his eyes, you came up short. There was a gauzy black blindfold over them. But the more you studied the sheer blinder, the more you understood. Aelar didn't have eyes. Nor did it seem like he had full sockets for them. Below the ridge of his thick brows, there was nothing save for two shallow divots where eyes might be. And yet, he turned his head to you. Somehow meeting your gaze. You could sense his recognition.

You knew that you were seen.

He outstretched his free arm, and from thin air, an ancient-looking staff of gnarled and twisted wood formed. Aelar grasped it as it fully materialized, swinging it wide and pointing it toward Olrick, whose stunned expression betrayed him all too easily.

"Heed these words, mortal." Aelar's voices boomed, resonating through the stone chamber like dozens of mighty waves crashing upon a shore. You held fast to him. "The King of the Fae, the Heart of the Red Forest, stands before you. We have chosen our Queen. She will be brought to our sacred lands. You will not pursue."

Olrick stood staring at you and Aelar, dumbfounded. He swallowed, his complexion losing color as he began stammering at the kingsguard. "Don't just stand there you… you fools! Seize them!"

The kingsguard exchanged apprehensive glances. It was clear that none of them wanted to follow the order. Just as a few of the guards took fearful steps forward, Aelar slammed the end of that staff to the ground, the sound amplified, and several things happened in the same heartbeat. First, the guards were knocked back on a phantom wind, falling to the ground in scrambling, confused heaps. Second, Olrick was thrown out of his chair and onto the floor, hard, as if invisible hands had grabbed him and dashed him upon the unyielding stone. And third, you and Aelar disappeared.

The throne room winked out of your vision, perhaps out of existence for a moment. You curled yourself into Sir Aelar, into the King of the Fae, seeking shelter in his grip as the world around you changed. The still air transformed into violent, cutting winds. Loud and forceful, they pushed against you, your hair and clothes whipping about you in the frenzy. And nearly as soon as they started, they stopped, and the dark vacuum of currents gave way to a temperate breeze. You untucked yourself from Aelar's body, taking in the new surroundings.

Tall, silvery-white trees stretched up to meet a pale blue sky. Their leaves were bright red and orange and the light of the early evening cast a golden glow upon everything. You didn't question where you were. It was obvious.

Aelar placed you down in a clearing that was thickly surrounded by the trees, releasing his staff and letting it dissipate into thin air. Their bark matched the color of his skin. This wasn't just his home, it was him. The grove seemed to sigh in relief at his return. Complete once more.

He finally spoke. “Welcome home, Queen.”

Queen.

Home.

You looked up to him, searching his face. Pleading. You fisted the thick fabric of your skirts, adrenaline still pumping through you, pulling your body taught. “Wh-what now?” You asked, anxious. “Is there a… priest? Someone to perform a ceremony?”

“No priest,” he said. “Ceremony… maybe. We call it a rite.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “What is the rite?” You asked.

The King stepped closer, raising a hand. Something inside you pulled at you, like a leading string, tugging you in the right direction. Wordlessly, you knew to lift your hand to mirror his, your fingers intertwining. “These bodies,” the many voices spoke. “These bodies shall join.”

Despite yourself, you flushed. The thought of it had your core warming, an inner fire carefully igniting.

“When the Queen is ready,” he added, seeing your nerves despite his lack of eyes. He must be feeling your emotions.

“We shouldn't wait,” you said evenly, trying not to brazenly display your growing excitement. “It needs to be official, right?”

Aelar nodded. “When these bodies have mated, these souls will be bonded. All will know… that she belongs to us. Then the Queen will be forever safe.”

Yes. That was the whole point of this. Safety. Escaping the betrothal to your enemy's son.

“Does she trust Aelar? Trust us?” He asked.

You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face.

“No,” the King said quietly. “We will hear her speak it before we begin.”

You blinked at the raw power in every word. Tightening the grip of your fingers around his, you said, “I trust you.”

He stroked your hair with his free hand approvingly. He then turned his attention to his armor, every piece still in place save for the helmet, which was left behind in the throne room after Aelar revealed himself. Again, wordlessly, you knew that he welcomed your assistance in doffing the armor. That he wanted it. Your fingers deftly worked to undo clasps and buckles, removing the suit with him, plate by plate. Under his pauldrons and bracers were hidden strong and utterly capable arms, corded with muscle. Under his tassets, thick and stocky thighs. You could glean the details of his body even before he removed his gambeson. He clawed at the neckline of the padded tunic, tearing it from himself impatiently, and doing the same for any layers underneath until he stood before you completely nude, save for the blindfold covering where his eyes would be.

You swallowed.

He was inhuman, his beauty impossible. You looked him up and down, drinking in his towering frame. Pearlescent skin, onyx-black hair, the ram's horns atop his head. The peaks and valleys of his chest and abdomen… the “v” of his hips that seemed to point directly to his cock. Girthy and generous, it twitched as your gaze grazed over it. Gods, he could sense you looking at his manhood?

His breaths were deep and rhythmic. “Let us help, now.”

You obliged, turning around and moving your hair away from your back so he could unlace your dress. Or, that was what you anticipated. The loud rip of the fabric told you the truth of the matter. Your dress and undergarments fell from your body in shreds, rustling with the leaves on the forest floor. You stepped from the pile and turned to him, now matching.

His sightless gaze moved over your skin like a caress, silken and tangible. You could feel him taking you in as you stood there. And you expected to be embarrassed or nervous, but instead, you felt warmth. Comfort and acceptance.

Queen.

The word vibrated in the air between you until he finally lifted a hand to touch your bare skin. A gentle brush of your neck, trailing to your shoulder and down your arm until he took your hand into his again. He was being slow and intentional. You were grateful. You'd never been with anyone before, and you knew that he knew it. And that he still wanted you all the same. In fact, you were certain that he wanted you more because of that. The word “claim” skittered into your mind, unbidden. It had you growing even warmer, it made you avert your gaze.

He carefully caught your chin between thumb and pointer finger, shaking his head when your attention was back on him. “No shame. Never shame.”

You nodded, relaxing at his touch. These hands that had carried you, defended you, cared for you. For the last several years, he'd been your silent guardian. And your wish, that you would have married him, was coming true. Though he wasn't the grizzled human man you thought him to be, he was more. Infinitely more.

You leveled your eyes to where his own might have once been, peering into the nothingness that was just beyond his blindfold. Then suddenly, no, it wasn't nothing. It was… everything. It was ancient, eternal. You could somehow sense the history, the power behind his station. How every breath of life within this forest bowed to him, and how he wanted you, and how every soul beholden to him seemed to whisper “yes, her, it is her. It has always been.”

Was this… destiny? Fate? Whatever it was, it felt so completely right that your knees buckled under you as a sigh escaped your lips and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You didn't know how this magic worked, how it was for the queens that came before you, but you could feel in your bones that it was your turn now. Your muscles quaked at the realization, and you tried to raise yourself to no avail. Somehow anticipating this, the King willed soft tree roots to emerge from the ground. Their tendrils gently wrapped around you, lifting you and carrying you to the base of a thick tree just a few feet to your back. You let yourself sink against the trunk, content in its sturdiness. The soft tendrils stayed, lapping at your skin like smooth, dry tongues. Feeling you and steadying you. And you knew that it was him touching you, that everything these trees and roots and grasses felt, he felt, too.

You closed your eyes, a happy smile playing at the corners of your mouth. Another sigh escaped your lips, long and grateful. You could feel him all around, his power licking at you in soft touches, his presence an anchor. He approached, kneeling in front of you, still dwarfing you despite being on his knees. His massive frame caged you in, though you didn't feel confined in the slightest. You felt free as he gently held your face in his two hands, his head dipping down for his lips to meet yours. You practically gasped into the kiss, taking in a breath of renewed life that filled your nostrils with his earthy scent. Intoxicating. It was utterly intoxicating. It invigorated you, and you deepened the kiss of your own accord, humming into his mouth. Tasting him as you turned your head to the side, throwing your arms around his neck.

You wanted- needed more. Your tongue carefully moved to sweep his lower lip, and his voices sighed their approval. He did the same, his tongue emerging to meet yours as it slowly slid past and into your mouth. Gods, it was long, probing and tasting. You relaxed yourself, letting your mouth drop more open to accommodate his exploration. One of his hands moved to cup your jaw, keeping you in the place as he continued his efforts. The other hand slid down the front plane of your body, gently touching your breast. Feeling the weight of it in his large grasp. You arched up into his touch, moaning around his tongue. He squeezed possessively, moving his hand for his thumb to swipe over your peaked nipple. Electricity shot up your spine as you gave him another full-mouthed moan, sucking on his long tongue, feeling more sensitive than you ever thought you were.

He leaned back, breaking the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting you. Upon taking you in, panting and desperate, Aelar smiled. His canines and the teeth directly next to them all sharp, all pointed. Wild and lupine. You gaped at them, feeling your desire pooling in your core. The sensation had already been there, low and aching. It grew more intense the more you looked at him; those predator’s teeth, that crooked smile. The thought that this powerful, ancient creature wanted you, to be next to you and inside you, was almost too much to bear. You nearly told him how much you needed him, but he rested back on his haunches, tilting his head back and seeming to look down his strong nose at you. His feral grin became a smirk, and you knew you didn't have to tell him anything from here on out, if you didn't want to or if you couldn't. He knew.

More roots came to touch you, wrap around you. They gently restrained your ankles, tugging them apart. Exposing you. Your face grew blazing hot as Aelar moved to flatten himself on the ground before you, positioning his arms under your thighs, holding onto you, and bracing himself directly in front of your sex. You knew how obscenely wet you were, and you knew he could scent it on the air.

His tongue slithered out of his mouth, slowly and carefully. It just barely touched you, lapping at a drip of your arousal and taking it in to taste it. That miniscule contact already had you writhing, grabbing handfuls of crunchy red leaves in an attempt to steady yourself.

Horns. The word popped into your mind. Yes, of course, it was so obvious. You reached down to grip his curling horns, and they were smooth and warm to the touch. He lapped at you again in encouragement, and your hands gripped the horns tighter in unconscious reaction. The Fae King's tongue licked a long stroke through your folds and up to your clit, causing you to curl into him. He loved it; your sensitivity, your reactions, your taste. It flowed out from him in pulsing waves of power; adoration, approval, the need for more. More of you.

You gasped, overwhelmed and overstimulated in the best way possible. Thrusting your hips up into him, craving more of that tongue. He obliged. Aelar plunged his tongue into your molten core, and you cried out at the thick muscle stretching you from the inside. He slipped it in and out, in and out, slowly and deliberately. And you realized that this wasn't just for the pleasure of tasting you and feeling you writhe, but to prepare you to take his cock. The thought of it, of being cleaved by him, had your head tipping back on a quiet sob of anticipation and eagerness.

Claim. He would claim you today. And you wanted him to. As his tongue delved in and out of you, you pictured all the ways he might take you. And the fact that today was just the beginning had you nearly giddy with excitement. You were his. Not in theory, not in fantasy, but in promise and deed.

Aelar's tongue slipped from you, the pointed tip of it wrapping around your clit and squeezing, wringing the pleasure out of you. Your eyes widened. The ecstasy skittering through your body was sharp, pointed. Like a searing hot blade slicing through reason and decorum and shame. All of them be damned. You could become exactly what Olrick said the Fae were; forest-dwelling monsters. In your mind's eye, you know you were capable. You could become a beast. Feral and graceful and brutal and devastating. And in your heart, you felt that if that wasn't what you wanted to be, Aelar would hold you and praise you still. That the state of you didn't matter, but you mattered. Such reckless acceptance communicated with hardly any words. It had you reeling. You pulled on his horns, your eyes twisting shut as he brought you to the brink, wet tongue not breaking pace even once. That invisible cord snapped, and your hips bucked wildly as your orgasm sent you free falling. White hot and destructive. You nearly lost sense of yourself as Aelar buried his tongue inside your cunt again to feel your muscles squeeze and spasm around him. You rode it out like that, bearing down, your arousal coating his mouth. When he finally pulled himself from your heat, he swallowed like you were the nectar of life. And part of you thought that to him, you might be.

Lazily, he reached for your waist, pulling you down toward him, tendrils releasing you. You laughed at his obvious hunger, something about it making your heart sing with joy. He slid his tongue over your sweat-slick body like he didn't want any drop of you to be wasted, crawling up your frame to lick your skin. Up the swell of your stomach, under your breasts, over your collarbone, around your neck. When he reached the shell of your ear, you shuddered at the press of him, his thick body dragging against yours. It clouded your senses, the proximity of him, the feeling of his cock hot and weighty on your leg.

He backed up so you could see his face. You looked into his… not his eyes, but that well of understanding that resided there. You wanted to ask about the logistics of this. How would it…?

He ran an alabaster finger down your face, speaking for the first time in a while. “It will fit.” His many voices resonated in your chest.

Your face flushed, cheeks growing hot. “How do you know?” You rasped, your voice spent from your pleasure.

“It is the rite. It is meant to be.”

You smiled. Your trust had gotten you this far. You leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his still-wet lips. He reciprocated gently, maneuvering to wrap his arms around your waist, twisting the two of you until he was the one leaning with his back on the tree and you were over and astride him. Your back was to his chest as you both looked up through the red leaves and at the blue sky. Matching his deep, rhythmic breaths, you rose and fell with his heaving chest. His large hands reached up to touch you as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deep. The smell of you mixed with him; his saliva, your arousal. Something about it was primal. Catching the scent had him squeezing your breasts, gripping your waist, reveling in how pliable your skin was under his touch. His hands went lower, smoothing over your thighs and stopping at your knees to grip underneath them and pull them up and apart. This was it, and you sensed that he wanted you to be the one to do it.

So you reached down, your hand shaking slightly as you found and gripped his hardened length. It jumped at your touch, welcoming it, wanting more. You gave it a few experimental strokes, and his breath hitched in his chest, his face burrowing deeper into that spot between your neck and shoulder. You got the feeling that he was trying very hard to control himself.

As you aligned the head of his cock to your aching core, you whispered, “look, my King.” He picked his head up to see your hand around him, your body scooting down slightly, lowering yourself onto him. He was so big, the marble-colored head leaking precum of a matching shade. You rubbed it against your folds, gathering any of the slick wetness that remained, and finally slipped his head inside of you. Once secure, your arms shot up over your head to grip onto him, one grabbing a shoulder, the other a horn.

Slowly, the Fae King rolled his hips up and into you, pushing his cock further into your welcoming heat inch by delicious inch. You felt so full, so complete, as you adjusted to the pleasant stretch of him. And he was right. Somehow, it fit. Rather perfectly, too. Like a sheath meticulously crafted for a blade.

“Tight,” his voices sang. “Perfect. So perfect for us.”

Your mouth hung open in a silent cry. Aelar slowly pulled out of you, nearly all the way, only to bury himself back in again. And again. And again. The slow pace was as merciful as it was agonizing. There was something so cruel about feeling him this intensely, this thoroughly, at the pace he had set. It was taunting, not fast enough to build anything substantial. But still, you knew he needed this. Needed to feel you from the inside, every supple bump and curve, every involuntary twitch of your muscles and squeeze of your inner walls. The hands that were gripping your legs shook, actually shook, with the effort. The self-control. There was something so utterly thrilling about it. About how you unraveled him.

You turned your head to his, breathless, speaking into his neck as he watched your body react to him. “You… you don't have to hold back, my King. I want to feel you. Please let me.”

He loosed a shaking breath. “Too perfect, we start slow,” he said, voices almost wavering.

You nodded, throwing your head back against his shoulder. With your neck bared to him, he lowered his mouth back to your skin there, licking and sucking and nipping marks into you. You writhed, your breaths quickening at his attention. Sensitive, so sensitive. Every lap of his tongue sent a jolt through you, and when he timed them with his careful thrusts, you grew more and more restless. You tried rocking and wriggling your hips to hasten the pace, but nothing dissuaded him from his rhythm.

“Impatient,” he rumbled into your ear, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Does the Queen truly wish to be bred like a beast?”

You quietly gasped at his choice of words, turning them over in your mind as you listened to the hypnotic wet sounds of him still thrusting slowly in and out of you.

“Do,” you started, getting distracted. “Do the Fae prefer… feral couplings? I remember- I remember reading that.”

“We are civilized creatures, Queen,” he chastised, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “But… sometimes, we are ridden by baser instincts.”

You swallowed. You wanted to see that, knew that he would stop if you changed your mind.

“Show me,” you said, your excitement making the words too forceful.

You could feel his grin. “Very well.”

Once again, Aelar was deftly flipping you, switching your orientation to better serve your request. Blinking up at him, you realized that you were on your back, the cushion of the ground beneath you no doubt of his doing. Leaves and moss pressed soft against your skin as Aelar loomed over you. He was squatting as he gently lifted your legs to hold them up, leaving you fully open to his designs, the mild breeze cooling your skin. You suppressed a shiver. After feeling him inside you, hot and wanting, you felt so cold and empty. He took his time, stroking lines over your skin in swirling patterns. You wiggled your toes, scrunched your face in mock annoyance. Why is he taking so long?

“Are you…?” You started to ask, then stopped.

He cocked his head.

“My King….”

His head cocked the other way.

You closed your eyes and set your jaw. He knew you wanted this, the truth of it bounced from your mind to his and back again. He wanted to hear you say it, needed to hear you. That primal, ancient nature wanted to hear you reduced to a desperate, begging creature that only needed one thing.

“Please…” you breathed. “Please. I want this. I want you. Let me feel it.”

“We shall grant this,” he said, lining himself up with you. And thrust himself inside you all the way to the hilt. You saw stars as his cock reached something deep within you, stroking and hitting a part of you that you didn't know existed. And your brain did start fixating on one thing: take me take me take me, make me yours, UNmake me, make me again, then take me more.

The Fae King started fucking you with abandon, slamming down into your eager cunt. Your vision went white, your mouth slack. The world became you and him, the smack of your bodies, the vibration of intense and carnal feelings between your brains. Each thrust shook your entire body, your entire being, and he pushed your legs further and further back until your knees were a few inches away from touching your shoulders. It allowed him to get so delectably deep, deep inside the well of you, deeper than you thought was possible.

Radiating from him, you could sense a single word over and over:

Mine.

MINE.

“Yours,” you gasped. In answer, the pads of his fingers dug into the soft, yielding skin of your legs. Wisps of power rolled off of his glistening body, caressing you, making you tingle all over. Again and again, he thrust into you with unforgiving need. You could feel it in your fingertips, in your toes, sweeping over your scalp. The pleasure was blinding, all-consuming. If you were crying out, you couldn't tell. Your ears rang only with the echoing staccato of where your bodies joined. Hot pleasure pulsed inside you, building and building. Your breaths grew more ragged as you anticipated your release. It was close, so achingly close. You forced your eyes to focus, to hone in on Aelar's face. Beautiful and otherworldly. His teeth were bared, his square jaw firm as he relentlessly claimed your body, your spirit, your soul. You wanted to be his. Wanted it so badly. Wanted to feel his seed spill into you. You hardly ever thought about this before him, about wanting something so raw and visceral. And as his steady breathing started to falter above you, you knew you were past wanting. It was a need.

He felt it, he knew it. He needed it too. Aelar's many voices growled one command: “Come, Queen.”

And your body obeyed. Your muscles clamped around him, so swift and strong, that you feared you might push him out of you as your back arched and your hands clawed at the plush forest floor for purchase. But he wouldn't allow it. His final thrust hit home and you could feel his hot cum pouring into you, marking you forever, making you his. You panted in tandem with him, your walls still pulsating from the exertion.

Aelar carefully removed his cock from you, and the gush of his warm release followed after it. Instinctually, you hugged your knees to your chest, trying to ensure that no more of it would be wasted upon the ground. The King laid down next to you, pulling you close and admiring your immediate dedication to keeping his seed inside of you. His body curled around yours and he nuzzled your neck, his tongue coming out again to lick over your clammy skin. As he lapped at your nipple, it was almost, almost, enough to send your spent body back into a frenzy of desire. There would be ages for that. Instead, you lifted a hand to bring his chin up, guiding him to kiss you. And he did, his lips plush and warm, his kisses slow and reverent.

As you kissed him, your senses came back to you. And they were… sharper. Honed. Not only could you hear all of the creatures around you, but you could sense where they were. Could feel the blades of grass and branches of the trees, if you concentrated enough. A preternatural awareness. Aelar smiled against your lips. It was a gift from him, no doubt. A boon from the rite, from mating with him, from becoming his Queen.

As the sun dipped further below the canopy of trees around you, you could feel the grove sigh in relief once again, satisfied that its Queen had been named and brought home at last. And you could sense it as it bowed to you.

#reblog for the daylight crowd #im proud of this one

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