Noelle
The sun warms my face, stirring me awake, and when my eyelids flutter open, I'm confused for a moment. At first, I expect to be on the hard mattress in Dante's dungeon, then the four-post bed in France.
But when I realize I'm at home in Elijah's bed, in his arms, a sense of relief like no other washes over me, covering me like the coziest, warmest blanket. I snuggle deeper into the covers and against his chest, not wanting to break the spell of the hazy morning glow.
Glancing up at him, I'm once again mesmerized by the sheer beauty of my mate's face, his body...his entire being. His eyes are closed, his long, dark lashes resting against his skin, his chest rising and falling easily, his strong arms wrapped around my waist.
I was so close to losing him, felt the tether that keeps us together straining to the very limit, and having him here with me now has to be the most precious gift I've ever been given.
I can't stand it anymore; I need to touch him. Reaching up to his face, I trail my fingertips along his jaw, tracing the lines and angles until my thumb grazes his full bottom lip.
He cracks one eye open and looks down at me. "How are you feeling?"
I consider his question for a moment. After he killed Dante, everything was a blur—the shift back to human form, the rush to get out of Colombia, the exhaustion I felt the moment we sat down on the plane. Elijah spent the entire flight in silence, his attention out the window. I didn't need to ask him what was wrong, I knew he was mourning the loss of his best friend. Despite all the shit Asher put us through, watching him die in such a horrific way was traumatic for all of us. Once we arrived home, we had enough energy to greet Corbin and Bennett and fall in bed. But half a day had passed since then and I was rested and safe with the man I love.
"I'm okay." I punctuate my words with a kiss on his collarbone. "I'm here with you, and we are both alive. That is more than I thought I was going to have thirty-six hours ago. How are you?" I whisper against his skin.
"I've been better, yet I'm the best I've ever been. Everything feels very surreal."
I laugh and say, "I know what you mean. I'm the fucking lycan queen. So I 100% feel the surreal thing." A thought occurs to me, one I hadn't considered yet. I look up at him and push his hair off his forehead. "I know how much you wanted to be an Alpha with your own pack like Corbin...and now, things have changed for you. Are you okay with being...I don't know, are you considered king? Or like, the queen's consort?" I wiggle my brows playfully.
He pulls me into his arms and rolls on top of me. Brushing the hair back from my face, he gazes at me and releases a long sigh. Every muscle in his body relaxes like the weight of the world no longer rests on his shoulders alone. "I'm your mate; that is the most important role I can have. But I'm sure that you being queen will give me some perks. I could always command your royal guard, sneak you away from important meetings," he kisses the side of my neck, "ravish you in the throne room."
I stretch my neck to give him more access to my skin and let out a contented sigh. "Oh yeah? That sounds like the first order of business I'd like to take care of as queen. But we don't have a throne room here yet. So...I think you'll have to ravish me here first. Do I need to make that an official order?" I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him flush against me, feeling the proof of his desire against the apex of my thighs.
Elijah grabs my wrists and pins my hands above my head. "You can have control of every other lycan, but I'm dominating this, my queen."
He dips his head and slides his lips over the swells of my breasts. I arch from the mattress, eager to have more of his mouth on me. I'm aching to feel his tongue and his teeth, for him to take me with all the pent-up passion I saw radiating from him when he refused to touch me.
"Please," I hiss, struggling against his hold on my wrists, just to see how he'll react, what he'll do with me. "Don't tease me, Elijah."
"Don't tease?" He drags his tongue over my nipple. "But that is the best way to make you beg for me."
I attempt to wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer, rolling my wrists around in his grasp. "I'm begging, Eli. Please, I need you. I need you to erase his touch," I say before I can stop myself. I don't mean to bring up Asher, especially now, but I want Elijah's touch to be the only one my body remembers.
He stills, and his gaze burns into me. "I'll make you forget—mark your body as mine, but I will do it on my terms. Inch by inch, I'm claiming you."
Elijah brings my hands to his hair and curls my fingers around the soft black strands. He returns his attention to my breast, but the teasing licks have vanished. He pulls the hardened peak of my breast between his teeth while he kneads and pinches my other breast. The sting of his actions sends a zap of electricity down to the juncture of my legs. The delicious throb matches the beat of my heart.
I suck in a breath through my teeth and tighten my grip on his hair before pulling and whispering, "More. Give me more. I want you to make it hurt." He said he's in charge, but I want him to know that all of me, body and soul, is his.
He glances up from the valley of my breasts and one side of his mouth pulls up. Without any warning, he rolls off me, turns me onto my stomach, and stands behind me. He grabs my hips, positioning me with my ass in the air.
"You want it to hurt?" he asks, running his palms up the back of my thighs to my lower back.
I fist the blankets so tightly my knuckles turn white, and I turn my head to the side, my cheek pressed into the mattress. Looking back at him from the corner of my eye, I murmur, "Yes, God, yes. I want you to take me and make me feel nothing but you for days."
He places his hand between my shoulder blades and pushes. "Breathe in," he commands.
I fill my lungs with air infused with the scent of him and sex.
"And out."
My breath flows through my pursed lips and a loud crack fills the room. My ass burns with the sting, but instead of hurting in a way that makes me want to cry, the insides of my thighs grow slick.
"Fuck, that's pretty," Elijah whispers, stroking my heated skin. "Tell me who you belong to, princess."
"You."
He spanks me again. "Who does your heart belong to?"
"You."
Again, his hand comes down. "Who does your soul belong to?"
"You." The word leaves my lips on a sob.
"Who is the only person who will fuck you for the rest of your life?" he asks with another spanking.
"You," I cry.
Elijah moves behind me and his length glides through my wet folds. He wraps an arm around my waist and leans into me. His breath is warm on my neck as he says, "And I will always belong to only you."
He presses into me, filling me in a way that does more than bring me pleasure. Everything outside of this moment fades away. It is just me and Elijah, raw and complete. I've never felt so loved.
I reach up and slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck as he moves against me, thrusting inside me to the hilt, not leaving one bit of space between us. I grind against the bed, wanting friction against that bundle of nerves that aches for Elijah all the time.
"God, Elijah," I groan, pulling at his hair, turning my head so I can brush my lips against his skin as he pulls out of me and pushes back in. "I am so fucking in love with you, you make me so happy. I can barely breathe when I'm with you, but I cannot function when I'm not."
He groans as his hips push forward faster and my body takes him deeper. "I spent almost my entire life searching for the wrong thing. I thought only retribution would give me peace...make me feel whole. But it was you, Noelle. All I needed was to be loved by you."
Elijah pulls away from me and guides me to my back. He settles between my legs and eases into me again. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he arches my head back. "Look at me."
I struggle to lift my heavy eyelids and meet his electric blue stare.
"That's it. Watch me while I take what's mine, princess."
I don't look away from him, even when I am tempted to let my eyelids flutter closed and stretch my neck back to cry his name out to the ceiling. Our gazes are fused as one, the heat and molten desire between us a connection that cannot be broken. Nor do I ever want it to be.
I want to be here, with him, at this moment until the end of time. Until both of us take our last breath, because I never, ever want to be without him. Not even for a second.
I clench around him, tugging on his hair as I gasp, "I am yours to take, my king. Forever."
"Fuck." He lifts my leg, hooking it over the inside of his elbow.
The new angle is unlike anything I've ever felt. I'm so open to him and he is reaching places within me that no one else has ever touched. It is pain and bliss and driving me wild. I pull on his hair harder, tilting his chin up. He fights to keep his eyes locked on mine while pumping into me over and over again.
"You feel so fucking good," he pants.
I lift my head and run my tongue down the column of his neck. "The way we fit together is so fucking perfect, and you're the only one who has ever made me feel like this, touched me like this," I say, my voice squealing up an octave on the last word as he slams into me harder. "Fuck!"
All words fade into pants and moans. Fingers dig into skin and mouths taste and bite. The need between us builds until we are slick with sweat, and I don't know where he ends, and I begin. I was made to be one with this man, made to give him my entire being. And he was made to be mine.
The divine pressure low in my stomach coils, sending my skin into goosebumps. Elijah pulsates inside of me and with each hard, deep stroke, he moves closer to his release. He pulls my hair and kisses below my ear. "Come for me, Noelle."
Like my pleasure was waiting for his demand, my body obeys. I tighten around him, pulling him to his release. Our bodies shudder as we let go together.
His name leaves my lips on a broken gasp, the months of torture waiting to be with him behind us like they never happened, replaced with an infinite number of days to be together on the horizon, just waiting to be lived. With him.
When our bodies finally come down, he rolls us over and pulls me into his arms, gathering me against his chest, kissing my forehead and whispering words of praise in my ear.
"I love you, Elijah," I murmur against his chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin between his pecs. "I love you so much it fucking hurts."
He glances down at me and he smirks. "Like a spanking hurt or—"
"A very good spanking hurt."
His chest vibrates with his laughter. "I love you, and I'm honored to be your mate. I'm yours until my last breath and beyond."
I grin and snuggle deeper into him. We lie there in silence for a few minutes as he traces circles on my lower back, spreading goosebumps over my skin.
"Eli?"
"Yeah?"
"Do we have to move to Colombia? And live in the royal residence?"
"That is the perk of being queen; you get to make the rules. Dante chose Colombia as a central location. I always thought it was more of a power play than a necessity. You have packs and sentinels all over the world to assist you if something were to go wrong. So no, you don't have to live in Colombia." He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face. "What are you thinking?"
"Can't we just stay here? This is my home now. It's your home. I don't want to leave. And—" I clear my throat. "I know you believe in me, that you think I can do this. And I do too, but, honestly, right now I have no idea what I'm doing. I need some help. I was thinking about asking Corbin to sit by my side for a while and help me rule. As a sort of regent. What do you think about that?"
"I can't think of a better person to teach you how to be a leader. And with some help," he rolls us until he is on top of me, "you will have time for other important activities."
I lift a brow. "Activities?"
"Me. You will have more time to spend with me."
My heart flutters at the thought. The circumstances that brought me here and placed Elijah in my life were harsh. Like most children, I took my time with my mom for granted. My time with her slipped through my fingers, leaving me with regrets. I miss her; I always will. Not a day passes where I don't think about her and feel the ache caused by her absence. But as my love for Elijah grows, it consumes that empty place in me and eases the pain.
"I want every minute with you to count, Elijah," I say.
He runs his fingers through my hair and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "And it will, my queen."