Enflamed [3]

His strong arm kept my legs pinned tightly together as he loomed over me, his body radiating heat. I could feel his breath quicken as he unbuckled his belt, his movements rough with need.

"My lady," he murmured, his voice a low growl, thick with desire. "You make me feel this way."

A surge of heat washed over me. I had known it would be big, but the reality of it made my breath catch in my throat.

'I didn't know... because we never slept together in my past life.'

"Don't-don't rush," I whispered, feeling my pulse quicken. "Wait a moment."

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against my ear. "Who said I was in a hurry?" he teased, He began to press his arousal against the juncture of my thighs, a slow, deliberate motion.

A shock of sensation shot through me as his warmth pressed against me, our bodies already beginning to move together in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. I gasped, feeling his every shift, the slow, deliberate thrusts driving me wild.

His hands tightened around my legs, urging me closer as he moved with deliberate, sensual force. Each thrust, each brush against my sensitive skin, set my body ablaze.

His dick kept brushing against my clitoris, sending jolts of pleasure that made me gasp.

Ngl~ Hmpph~ Ngl~

I couldn't contain the moans that escaped from my lips, lost in the mounting tension that threatened to consume me.

His breath was ragged as he matched my movements, his body responding to mine with a desperate hunger. I could feel the pressure building, the heat rising with every movement, every sound we made, until it became unbearable.

I gripped the sheets, my nails digging into the fabric, as pleasure washed over my in waves.

"Ah… ah…" he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

"Please... I'm... I'm close," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Me too," he rasped, his grip tightening on my skin as he pushed us toward the edge.

"Let's cum together."

And with that, the tension snapped, a wave of pure ecstasy washing over us both. Our bodies moved in sync, caught in the shared moment of release, the world fading away.

---

He kisses my forehead softly, his lips lingering for a moment as his breath brushes against my skin.

"Let's end it here today," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

He carefully cleans us both, his movements tender as he makes sure I'm comfortable.

Afterward, he drapes a soft blanket over me, the warmth of it enveloping me as I settle back into the bed. His presence lingers, calming and steady, as he ensures I feel safe and cared for.

When I was with him, the pain of this world almost seemed to vanish, as if it was never there.

He sits before me, his perfect features like a cruel reminder, carving a deep ache in my heart.

Do I love him? No… it doesn't matter anymore. As long as he breathes, that's enough.

My eyes darken as the words escape my lips, "Leave."

His eyes widen in shock, disbelief dancing across his face.

"Do you really think I slept with you because I love you?" My voice trembles with contempt. "Get out. Leave my house and stay the hell out of my life. You mean nothing to me. You're the Crown Prince—a man bound by duty to a throne. Go, fulfill your obligations, and don't ever cross into my life again."

Instead of the anger I expected, instead of fighting back, he bows his head and kisses my hand softly, a touch that makes my heart twist in a way I can't explain. He smiles, though it's a smile I can barely recognize, and then, he disappears without another word.

As he disappears, the tears fall like they never have before—bitter and endless. I curl up, hugging my legs to my chest, drowning in the ache of everything I never said and everything I wish I had never felt.

I never knew him before the war—before the crown weighed heavy upon his brow, before the blood of a thousand battles stained his hands. Was he always this gentle, this restrained?

A storm brews on the horizon, for the kingdom of Urophelia, once a loyal ally to the Empire, now rises in rebellion. They believe the royal family, weakened by the absence of true support, can no longer hold the realm together. But they are gravely mistaken. The Empire's strength lies not in numbers, but in the unyielding will of its rulers.

The war will tear the world asunder, its fury lasting for three long years. The Empire will suffer greatly, the land scarred by bloodshed and loss. But when the smoke clears, it will be the Crown Prince who stands victorious. His triumph will echo through the ages, but at a cost that cannot be measured in mere victories.

For when he returns, he will not be the man who left. The horrors he has witnessed—the atrocities, the devastation—will hollow him out, leaving only a cold, unfeeling ruler. The man who once exuded warmth and hope will now be a shadow, a king forged in fire and sorrow.

And yet, his return will not be one of celebration alone. He will be hailed as a hero, a conqueror who has slain the royal family of Urophelia and crushed the rebellion beneath his heel. The current emperor, recognizing his power and resolve, will bestow upon him the crown—making him emperor in her place.

But no victory comes without its dark toll. Among the spoils of war, the Prince will bring with him a survivor—the last of Urophelia's royal line. The princess, broken and disfigured by the ravages of war, will be dragged from the ashes of her kingdom. Once a princess, now nothing more than a slave, she will be made his concubine.

And yet, even this will not be enough. Her fate, like all those who dared to oppose him, is sealed. For the Prince, now emperor, will kill her as he did her family—leaving only the silence of a war won and the echoes of what once was.

'The war will start soon, in just a few days...'

I yawned, my mind clouded, unable to focus any longer.

'I don't want him to love me anymore. His suffering, all the pain he's endured, was never for me—it was for Erana. A girl like me, broken and undeserving, has no right to his love. Every sacrifice, every hardship, was given in the hope of reaching her, not me. I can't keep pretending that I am who he truly needs. It's unfair to him, and it's unfair to me.'

A dull ache throbbed in my head, each thought becoming harder to hold onto.

The rain began to pour, its rhythmic patter against the window a lullaby. With a heaviness weighing on my limbs, I succumbed to the weariness, and sleep overtook me.

---

The rain poured relentlessly, the storm tearing through the northern sky, a violent symphony of thunder and wind. In the heart of the night, under the heavy downpour, a figure cloaked in black moved toward the Astraloyn mansion.

The wind howled, but the figure's breaths were louder—huff... huff... each step shaky and labored, as if the weight of something unseen pressed upon them. The cold seemed to seep through the very fabric of their robes, their body trembling, yet they continued forward, drawn by some force unseen.

With a sudden, almost desperate motion, the figure leaped over the gate, landing silently on the other side, and then, without hesitation, slid through a window into the mansion's shadowed interior.

A shiver of unease ran through the dark halls of the mansion as the soaked figure stumbled inside, the sound of their wet robes brushing against the cold stone floor. But before they could gather their bearings, the sharp sound of metal echoed through the silence.

Click.

A blade pressed against their throat, cold and unforgiving. A voice, low and deadly, sliced through the tension of the moment.

"Who are you?" The words were sharp, demanding, as the Duke of Astraloyn stepped from the shadows, his gaze cold, unwavering.