Chapter 20: Sandstorm

SPG

As a Gazellian with eyes used to colors and scents rich with fragrance—a beautiful princess who lived years in a lovely cage where everything seemed perfect—my memories of walking down the gardens with a rattan basket hanging on my right arm, the happiness that I felt with the lovely flowers that I had picked, the warm touch of sunlight not so bright kissing my cheeks, how time slowed down as I took each step, the butterflies fluttering around me, and a few pixies playing nearby—I had never imagined that there would be a place I'd call more home other than Sartorias—but here I was, a few weeks in Mudelior, yet it felt as though I could sense the very soul of this empire— in his eyes.

"M-Make me feel insanely good, Your Majesty..."

"With pleasure, My Queen."

I thought he'd claim my lips again, but his tongue traveled slowly at the edges of my face, the tip of his nose teasing as if savoring my scent, and he kept murmuring my name as the back of his fingers with its feathery touch trailed my temple to the side of my cheekbone, and then to my jaw.

I bit my lower lip, feeling this slow moment with him— like a small fire crawling on a scroll.

"You smell so good, My Queen...I could live with this scent forever..." he whispered, his breathing labored.

The Mudelior's traditional accessories had always been cold against my bare skin, but when Kreios's hands moved on their own, his gentle hands shoved the accessories, giving me a metallic sound of clanking jewels that shouldn't have been seductive to my ears.

Now even the coldest jewelry clinging to me felt like it was burning as if it had been thrust into the fire for molding. Suddenly I felt like I was one of those jewels that had been waiting for molding, and his hands were perfect for it—every part of me.

His entire body pressed me harder against the wall, his hands expertly removing the clothing on my chest. I heard a gentle thud on the floor when he found the pearled buttons behind my back, leaving only the jewels covering my breasts. With his warm hand, the jewel between us, he cupped me, pressing—one of my breasts—allowing me to feel him, the teasing jewel and his thumb expertly caressing that most sensitive spot—sending shivers all over my body.

My body arched, reacting to his touch.

"You're so soft, Harper..."

Suddenly the whole room darkened. The lit candles were extinguished, and the only source of light was the hearth—the outside suddenly felt like chaos as the high windows were in darkness—with that sound—like grains of dark sand wind splashing against the windows as if it were desperate to break the whole castle.

It was like the whole Empire of Mudelior was about to get devoured by a huge sandstorm.

I gasped as it dawned on me. Kreios was trying to restrain himself, agonizingly trying to make everything too slow—the opposite of how this empire had to experience his emotions right now.

His eyes were closed as he kissed me slowly, his hand movements gentle, but his breathing was needy, begging, asking, as if he was in pain.

I hated everything about "too much"—like how Zen's snowstorm buried our kingdom, how the sudden lightning struck in the middle of darkness, how the earth grumbled, and how the tree of light illuminated so brightly that it was almost blinding. I knew that those signified my brothers' emotions— not just out of pleasure but also because of their sadness, desperation, and pain. I hated that it felt suffocating—that I had to endure it and wait for them to calm down—because I had no ability to control them. I had no ability to calm them except to force my power against them. It was my love for them—to force my power and make them sleep against their will.

But I never thought that there would be a time in my life that I'd fully embrace "too much"—that the terror of the storm outside—a sandstorm that might have buried this empire—would not make me feel heavy or suffocated—but could make me remember this fiery moment that I knew I'd regret if I refused myself to get burned, buried and lost.

I turned to him and let our lips almost touch. "If restraining yourself is your definition of making me feel good, you have to stop, Your Majesty."

I took one of his hands from my breast and placed it between my thighs, pressing it more. I gasped with my lips now on his cheek, "This is where you'll make me feel good, Kreios, you idiot, at least do something that would compensate your kingdom after burying them with your sands—an heir, perhaps?"

With those words, I was no longer on the wall, but lying on the carpeted floor near the hearth, the sound of the crackling fire with the raging of the wind accompanied by the grains of sand against the glass window overwhelmed between us— yet both of our eyes lit in a same fire that I knew no one from us would have wanted to extinguish it.

The glow of the dancing fire illuminated his frame as he towered over me, the vivid traces of his chest against the thin black clothing as he breathed heavily made me feel as if he had been taking the air out of me. His hands on both sides of my head, his hair tousled, with those crimson eyes of his— he looked so unreal and ethereal— in the middle of a sandstorm near a solemn hearth.

I thought I had enough courage and power to stare at him for a long time— but I could even call all the gods and goddesses in this world— me, who was once a princess in a kingdom who secretly didn't believe in their power— and thanked them for sharing me this someone— for offering him to me— a king who had been blessed by thousands of heavens by his unreal looks.

Hindi ko na napansin na unti-unti akong nag-iwas ng tingin sa kanya habang ramdam ko ang tindi ng pag-iinit ng pisngi ko. I hated to admit it, but how could anyone not fall in love with him? Kreios is godly— the same effect that Claret had to all male gazes.

"Y-you're so beautiful, Harper..."

For the very first time, I couldn't accept those words— from someone who's utterly godly with his looks— with these overflowing emotions in his eyes. 

"D-don't look at me with those eyes..."

He chuckled, kissing my neck. "What eyes?"

I didn't reply.

"Why do I feel like my queen's faltering?" he whispered.

"No..."

I shouldn't. I whispered to myself.

I snaked my arms around him, and this time, I was the one who initiated the kiss— I was the one who pulled him closer, my tongue desperately parting his lips, my fingers raking through his hair, my hands finding the neckline of his black clothing and tearing it apart.

As I kissed his neck, I felt him tremble. His breathing grew ragged as my hands trailed from his shoulders, down his chest, over his firm stomach—tracing those salivating lines that my tongue couldn't wait to touch—until they finally reached his navel, my fingertips teasingly tracing his V-line. He gasped, calling my name, and placed a tender kiss on the top of my head.

Now that I felt how vulnerable he was, I used this opportunity to tackle him down, pinning my palms against his shoulders, sitting on his stomach, and allowing myself to tower over him, curtains of hair covered us— letting the glow of our eyes served as the only light between us.

"H-Harper..."

If he'd be hesitant then I'd make him lose his control.

Slowly, I straightened myself, one of my hands grazing on his shoulder to his chest, while one of my hands carelessly ran through my hair, brushing the hindrance between our eyes.

I allowed him to savor my nakedness, Kreios might be this godly, but I shouldn't forget that I am a Gazellian— I was born proud, confident, and beautiful. I shouldn't let myself feel that I am a lesser beauty just because my mate had been favored by the heavens.

Looking into his eyes, with one of my hands still brushing my hair, I smiled at him confidently. Now it was not just his crimson red eyes, but his fangs bared.

"This beauty is yours, Your Majesty..."

He was about to get up when I pressed his chest again, shaking my head. "I shall serve the king."

Now my hips slowly moved down, finding what it longed for— teasingly caressing it— brushing. I felt how it wanted me... so much that even with the thin clothing between us, I could feel him— him aching to dominate me.

Kreios agonizingly controlled himself, staring at the ceiling, his chest heaving. I purposely brushed against him, grazing our most sensitive parts together, teasing him. Kreios groaned, his knee twitching as if he were about to sit up and look at me, but one of my hands quickly pressed against his leg, stopping him. I placed my other hand on his other knee, now my body was inclined against him, my hips moving repeatedly—meeting him—making sure he felt that very part of me that needed him. Every motion, every press, was a desperate invitation.

Kreios covered his eyes with one of his arms, he was trembling.

"God damn it, Harper, get rid of it. Fucking get rid of it. I'm begging you, love..."

I grinned.

While the world was starting to ignite with the fuel he poured turning into a raging fire— his wickedness in ink— tainting his own image—King Kreios Sageton Doyle, a vile king who doesn't care about his image, now is beneath me— begging—offering himself.

I grabbed the waistband of his pants with one hand, tearing it apart in the middle—revealing the gift he would offer only to me from now on.

My eyes widened, fascinated, delighted— fuckingly blessed. I am a vampire princess as though I was favored by the heavens—allowing me to experience its blessing— standing in front of me.

I tightly shut my eyes, silently praying to wherever heavens my mate had been carved perfectly.

"H-Harper... love?"

I couldn't help but grin, he calls me darling or my queen when he's teasing me, but calling me love means that he's vulnerable, helpless, and surrendered.

Kreios cursed when he saw that I was staring at him, but I continued to move, gently encircling my hand around it, stroking it. He groaned, calling my name. I started kissing his inner thighs, crawling to his v-line, back to his stomach to his chest, until he slightly got up, cupping my face—giving me his dominating kiss, but my hand didn't stop— causing him to lose himself, sitting, pulling me closer, arms wrapping around me, and his fangs tracing my neck.

"H-Har...per..." he gasped between the pleasure of my hand and the scent of my neck.

I pushed him closer to my neck as I changed the rhythm of my hand, and when he finally gave in, sinking his fangs into my skin, I gasped between pain and pleasure— my hand let off him. Now that he was in control, I was on the carpet again, his lips on my neck as I stared at the ceiling— stroking his hair. I allowed him to drink my blood as one of his arms possessively wrapped around me, and his other hand familiarizing my skin.

When he parted his lips and started kissing my ears, feeling his hot breathing, he whispered. "Lift your hips, love..."

I obeyed.

In a swift motion, Kreios pulled the last clothing from my body— revealing my total nakedness in front of his eyes. He parted my legs, kneeling between them— his eyes marveling at it while licking the side of his lips with traces of my own blood. "Everything about you is ravenous..."

I tilted my head, bringing some of my fingers to my lips, teasingly biting it seductively in front of him. "How impudent of me to be your queen without being this ravenous enough for you, Your Majesty..."

Kreios huffed, grinning, shaking his head, before he frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair. "You really know how to play with those lips of yours, Gazellian, but your king has ways better..."

That were the last words of the king before he proved that his lips were not just the best kisser— as the king's lips found the place that it wanted him the most.

With those lips— I was worshipped— I was devoured.

I was gasping, tossing, and arching for him. Sweats were all over my body as I looked down at him, his eyes were looking at me, glassy in dazed as if he hadn't had enough and his tongue licking his lips.

"I'd be happy to see how this world turned into chaos, giving me those nonsense sneers with those papers right now. Little did those fools know..."

Kreios took my hands and intertwined my fingers with his—as he slowly buried himself again and continued his words inside my mind.

"The King of Mudelior is happily turning his queen into this beautiful chaos."