The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

517



Mora focuses on the dark pleasure of the invasion despite the stinging pain it brings her; though he is gentle, her broken body still aches, but when he increases his speed the pain soon fades into the background, replaced by a burning tightness deep within her. She feels her need for more, her body wanting all that he can give her. Instinctively she raises her knees, wrapping her legs around his waist; with each full thrust his body presses firmly against her flesh. Muffling her mouth against his neck, she is surprised by the small, whimpering noises that come out and the deep, rumbling that echoes in his chest.

The burning surges in her body, consuming her entire being; her heart races faster, anticipating something yet she doesn’t know what until it hits her like a blast of white light, radiating throughout her muscles, a feeling so amazingly good that she finds it hard to even breathe. Her body trembles against his while Rick continues to rock into her; Mora feels his muscles tense until he presses deep inside of her and halts his movement, drawing in a sharp breath and letting it out in a quiet moan of pleasure. He tilts his head down, staring deep into her eyes while his hands tenderly brush her face. “I love you, Namora,” he whispers before placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

Her eyes drift shut, a shutter rolling through her body when she kisses him back; forcing herself to look at him, she feels the earnest smile cross her lips, “I love you, Varickan.”

Slowly he untangles his body from hers, shifting to the side and resting his head against the pillow. Mora turns to face him, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his chest. Light kisses adorn her forehead as he gazes at her in adoration. His smile fades slightly, a pained look on his face, “I am sorry about your father, Mora.”

The mention of her father sends her body almost crashing down from the high of pleasure, her heart aching at the loss of a man she thought she knew. There is no doubt that he was a great ruler and a good father but knowing that he kept things hidden from her casts a shadow over every relationship she has had with another person. Her finger tips trace over his arm; she is exhausted and wants to sleep, but there is a lot she needs to discuss with him. She is unsure where to begin, then it hits her how much of him is still a mystery. “What was your father like?”

Rick’s eyes drop from hers; he fiddles idly with a strand of her hair, watching it in the fading firelight, “I do not remember a lot about him. I know he loved me. He was not from here-he was a Prince in a land across the sea. I know that my grandfather arranged the marriage between my father and my mother. Once my mother took over the throne and I was born, that is when things began to fall apart. She wanted to raise me like she was raised-have me become a creature of the darkness as a child. My father did not want her to force that upon me; he argued vehemently against it. She always told me that he refused to take a part in it so he left and returned to his homeland across the sea, but the last memory I have is seeing him covered in his own blood. I think that she killed him.”

Mora’s eyes go wide, “That’s horrible Rick-I had no idea.”

Avoiding her gaze, he rolls onto his back and stares up at the sheer canopy of the bed, “It is the reason why I hated the idea of being the Prince-she always tried to control me. One day I had enough and I told her I was done; either she would let me give up the title and I could lead a normal life, or I would leave the country entirely. That is the only reason why she left me alone in the tavern.”

She is at a loss for words, “She set us up together, you realize?”

He nods slightly, “I know. It is so obvious now. I feel ashamed to admit it, Mora, but Derven is nothing like I imagined-though I have never been here before, I thought I knew quite a bit about your country.” His hand waves about the room a little bit, “But everything here is far nicer than anything in Sceadu. Though you might not have wealth in the way of coin, or jewels, or fine metals, your country is full of loyal hard working people; no one goes without, because Dervens take care of each other. Sceadu is not like that, at least not anymore. My country is poor in compassion and rough in life; we have almost nothing to export, nothing to trade with, the entire wealth of the nation comes from capturing trespassers for ransom.”

“Hopefully, that will be something you can do away with,” she says softly, feeling him out. “If my father had lived, he would have stepped down from his position as King once I married as we value a ruling pair. How does the ascension to the throne work in Sceadu?”

“My mother will hold the throne until she dies,” he says. “It passes to the eldest child regardless of if it is a boy or a girl. As I am the eldest, once she is no more I will rise to become the King.”

She nods, but then the thought hits her, “Eldest? Do you have siblings?”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I have a younger brother, Treven, but I have not seen him since I was little; Sheynne claims that Treven left with our father. With all the effort she put forth into getting me to reclaim my title, though, I wonder if his bones are in the cave of darkness next to our father’s.”

Mora rolls onto her back, drawing the blanket up over her bare skin to stave off the chill creeping down her spine; she knew Sheynne to be manipulative but she never imagined her to be monstrous; recalling her lack of empathy in regards to human life upon their first meeting, Mora thinks it is a surprise she made it out of the castle alive-had she not been a pawn in a larger game, Mora doubts she would be here today. “I think Sheynne will try to stake a claim to the Alumenian throne,” she says, feeling that Rick will side with her, against this.

“So let her have it,” he replies off handedly.

Mora sucks in a surprised gasp, “What?”

“Alumenia has too much power as a country; when Irron was in control of it, it is a wonder he never tried to wage war before. Perhaps if Sheynne finally has the stature she desires, she will leave the rest of us alone.” His voice sounds surprisingly defeated.

“I cannot honestly believe you mean that, Rick,” Mora says, leaning over his chest to stare into his eyes, “Alumenia has a right to exist peacefully-those people have been through enough. If Sheynne takes control of it, she will run it into the ground like she did Sceadu.”

Rick eyes her, “And who else would run it? King Wallace would turn that country into a place like Geofen-all of the excess food and supplies from his country get exported over the sea. The only reason he trades with Alumenia is to obtain the metal he cannot get elsewhere. You do realize that the only food we get in Sceadu comes from Derven by way of trading with the peddlers. If your country didn’t have need for ebony tree, it would not be bought from us.”

Shocked and somewhat embarrassed, she glances away from him, “No, I did not know that.”

His fingers grip her chin, bring it up so that she is forced to look at him again, “The obvious choice to rule Alumenia would be you, Mora. But I think we both know that King Wallace and my mother would be against it-not only would you control Derven and Alumenia, you are also set to become the Queen of Sceadu someday.”

A pang of guilt hits her, recalling his hasty proposal and the fact that she never explicitly accepted it. Her lack of confirmation seems to be enough to satisfy him for the moment. Though her heart yearns to be united with her love, her mind has taken control of the situation-the threat that Sheynne casts over the entire nation makes Mora wary of everyone. Without knowing what type of man Irron’s bastard son is, she is hesitant to even mention it to Rick; if she discovers Irving to be completely unworthy of the title of King, then she will leave him to his ignorance and be forced to find another way to keep Sheynne from the throne. She reluctantly admits to herself that he is right, King Wallace cannot be given control over Alumenia either and the probability of them agreeing to give the reign over to Derven is low.

With a sigh, she offers him a soft smile, kissing him tenderly on the lips, “We can discuss this more later, Rick. For now, let us get some rest.”

He agrees, pulling her close to his body. While he drops off to sleep rather quickly, Mora finds it hard to follow suit, her mind still reeling from the unknowns of the future.


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