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Daeran woke up first, to find his beloved asleep, snuggled close to his side. He looked lovingly at her as she caught up on the night's sleep.
The return of her memories last night had given him much to think about. It had long been obvious to him that she must belong to a noble family, her diplomatic skills, her incredible knowledge, the art of using magic and sword in unity, and last but not least her excellent knowledge of the best wines had revealed her long ago. However, he had not expected the princess of the River Kingdom.
He tenderly kissed her shoulder, neck, and forehead until she slowly woke up. There was already a sound of life on the streets outside, so they didn't have much time left. The day would bring many questions from friends and allies, many conversations in the council room, and a reunion with her old life. Old friends.
He was a little worried about what all her former life would bring. Whatever it was, he couldn't let it come between them. He would make it absolutely clear to anyone from her past who belonged at her side now.
"Good morning, my love," he greeted her with a soft kiss on her lips and whispered, "You belong to me alone, you know that, don't you? You are mine. I will never be able to let you go, not for anything in the world."
Hearing these words, Tishlia knitted her eyebrows and glanced at him briefly with her dark blue eyes. With the reactions of an experienced fighter, she knocked him over without any warning. He suddenly found himself trapped between her and the cushion, her warm skin pressed tightly against his. His wrists tied to his head by her strong hands and her legs locked around his hips, his resistance was hopeless.
To make her point, she kissed her captive roughly and bit his neck gently first, then harder, until he made the pain audible and her bite left visible marks.
Without giving him any room to move, she leaned in close and let her tongue slide gently along the edge of his ear. "Now please tell me again who belongs to whom here, MY Count," she whispered sharply like an icy wind on a mountaintop.
Daeran tried to snuggle his cheek against hers, but Tishlia refused the tender gesture. Without loosening her grip, she pressed higher on her hands that bound him and looked into his eyes. His smug grin had almost disappeared and she saw him searching for the right words, unable to decide if he had really gone too far with his statement or if she was just torturing him for fun. Under her firm hold, his hands gradually lost their color and began to grow cold.
Gently, she lowered her hips and touched his naked body with the warm inside of her thighs, causing him to breathe a little deeper. Without loosening her grip, she slid lower until he felt moist warmth rubbing gently against his crotch. A small moan escaped him, as his blood centered on that spot and made him grow against her.
She kept control, gentle as the touch of a feather, letting his hardening shaft slide through her slit again and again, just enough to make him crave for more. He gasped and tried to raise his hips to force a more intense touch. But the forbidden movement only caused her knees to press even tighter around his hips, making an approach impossible.
She let the tip of his cock slide promisingly into her wet, warm hole, only to pull back and release him back into the cool air of the room. Moaning desperately, he pressed his head deeper into the cushion, unable to approach or free his numb hands from her grip. Watching his agony with malicious delight, she moved closer to his face and whispered, "Was there something else you wanted to say, darling?"
He sighed and managed a breathless whisper, "I'm all yours."
With a self-satisfied laugh, she released her grip on his wrists and sat up, burying his length deep inside her. Only the grip of her legs around his hips did not release, leaving him completely at the mercy of her rhythm until she allowed his desire to be lost in his climax.