THIRTY-ONE

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**Warning: brief mature content ahead**

~ BEARING GIFTS ~

"Henrik!" I cried so loudly that I was sure all of the Cursed Kingdom could hear me, gripping the said male's hair tighter before I fell apart, my legs tightening around his head and eliciting a groan, whose vibrations made an extra and quite violent jolt to rack through my body.

That was how I'd woken up that morning: sheets thrown off of me, my naked body splayed out like a starfish, and a strange warmth between my thighs awakening me with a gasp. That warmth happened to be my new and quite insatiable husband and mate, whose unkempt hair tickled my skin at the same time his skillful tongue dipped into my womanhood for what I presumed to be around the dozenth time since we mated.

After kissing the insides of my quivering thighs, Henrik crawled up and through them, a playful smirk pulling at his swollen lips as he stared at me while I proceeded to try to catch my breath.

Once he situated his elbows on either side of my face, he leaned down to kiss me and I groaned, forcing him closer down to me by his shoulders and savoring the feeling of his tight muscles underneath scarred skin. As our kisses deepened and our tongues battled, I lifted my hips, desperately trying to grind my bare and pulsing pelvis against his frustratingly covered one by the same elastic pants he'd worn at Feuerfest.

Henrik pushed me down gently, almost hesitantly, and groaned. "You're too sore," he grunted, sucking on my bruised mark and only making the truth in his words that much harder to accept. I dug my nails into his back, biting my bruised lower lip as I held in a whimper—or perhaps it was a plea—a plea for him to put aside the consideration for my pained lower half and take me as the prominent bulge in his trousers revealed he wanted to.

Between Henrik's infinite passion and my abrupt anxiety attack, I perhaps only got three hours of sleep but as he hovered over me in that moment, I'd never felt more awake. My whole body was buzzing with a new energy, like it in itself was an electric wire, and I never wanted to let him go. If my human body had the stamina and resilience that my desires did, I would've been showing him exactly how much I needed him again and again and again until he was the one who couldn't walk.

Henrik slid off the bed and I groaned in protest, missing his warmth already, but used the moment to rub the sleep from the corners of my eyes. I stopped, eyes shooting open in horror, when I remembered I'd been wearing makeup the night before and I imagined all the horrible things I must've looked like.

Before I could think anymore on the subject, Henrik slipped his thick arms under my knees and shoulders, and quickly hoisted me up into the air, my side pressed into his bare chest. I squealed, clutching my legs together when suddenly that ache he'd mentioned became all too prominent.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he moved to the bathroom door, maneuvering his hand under my knees to push it open.

Immediately a soft wall of steam hit my face and I blinked, cringing when I saw a hint of what I looked like in the slightly fogged up bathroom mirror. What was once a beautiful masterpiece of black eyeliner and brown eyeshadow now appeared to be reduced to smudges that made my eye sockets look as sunken as a skeleton's.

"I ran you a bath," Henrik told me and my eyes lit up at the sight of the half filled bathtub covered in a layer of bubbles and rose petals. Beside it, draped over a chair from his sitting area, was a soft appearing white dress and fresh undergarments. "The water was too hot before," he said and kissed my neck, making me shudder and lean into him, "but now it should be perfect." He walked over and lowered me down with the same care I'd imagine he'd give a babe.

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