88: 88 The First Night

88 The First Night

Kral's pov

This private garden within the palace was meticulously maintained by professional florists. I had instructed them to adorn it with exquisite and scarce flowers and trees, ensuring that its beauty and elegance were ever-present. Especially on moonlit evenings like this, the moon's gentle rays bestowed a nourishing touch upon the garden's blossoms, each one captivating in its own right.

For those fortunate enough to witness such a spectacle, the moonlit garden became an indelible memory, worth cherishing for a lifetime. However, I was not amazed, because you couldn't expect a person who had grown up here to constantly marvel at its beauty.

Nevertheless, tonight was an exception.

"Prince Kral..." Delia's body softened, akin to a white cloud. I doubted she was aware of just how alluring she appeared at that moment, yet I had no intention of disclosing that fact. Just as a dragon safeguards its precious gems, so does a werewolf. I held her waist, finding Delia more enchanting than any flower in the garden.

"I don't understand, Prince Kral. If you can't assist me in retrieving my mother's belongings, I will find a way myself," Delia said, seemingly seeing through my thoughts, her determination unwavering. I wasn't surprised that she could discern my intentions; after all, she had always been astute.

"I beg you to release me, Prince Kral." Her rosy cheeks puffed up, her eyes glistening. She must have regarded her words as an act of bravery. Gazing at her adorable countenance, I couldn't help but chuckle softly.

The true identity of the grey-clothed man extended far beyond that of a mere messenger; otherwise, I would have disposed of him the instant he appeared by Delia's side. However, I refrained, desiring to extract further information from him. The information I had obtained at the temple was scant at best. Moreover, given his proximity to Delia, I feared my actions might inadvertently harm her.

The grey-clothed man possessed powers surpassing my wildest imagination. The likelihood of Delia reclaiming her belongings herself was close to none. Who else could she rely on, if not me?

Such thoughts reignited the burning image of that grey-clothed man kissing Delia's forehead, stirring the suppressed fury within me. It coursed through my veins, akin to the venom of a poisonous serpent, consuming my every limb.

"You want me to let you go? What are you thinking, Delia? You are my wife," I questioned with a furrowed brow, my grip around her growing tighter. Delia's actions further agitated the unease within me.

"But I am not," the body in my embrace suddenly struggled, Delia's typically gentle demeanor marred by reddened eyes.

She raised her voice, "We both understand, don't we, Your Highness?! I merely wished to fulfill my vow to you, and now, the task is complete! I have fulfilled my own promise! Please, release me, Your Highness!"

Something was amiss. This was not the Delia I knew so well. Silently, I scrutinized her expression, contemplating the implications of her words.

Delia had been exhibiting peculiar behavior lately. Whether it was her sudden aloofness towards me or her hesitance in declaring our vows during the banquet, it left me suspicious. She once explained that she just missed her mother so much that she was in a bad mood. But is this really the case?

Though I have some doubt about that explanation, I understood the need to grant her time. After all, no one had guided her on how to be a capable queen. I empathized with her apprehension, and I could offer my assistance.

But I had never fathomed that she desired to leave me.

Absurd! Ludicrous! So many women adored me, yet I had chosen her. I had poured my love and understanding into our relationship, and yet she dared utter such words!

A throbbing ache began to emerge in my mind. After enduring the weariness of the entire day, I had not anticipated Delia speaking in a manner that nearly pushed me to the brink of losing my composure.

Was her inexplicable behavior a covert attempt to part from me? Was this her true motive? What had that grey-clothed man done to Delia?

Things were spiraling beyond my control, igniting an immense fury within me. At the moment I sensed that Delia might depart from my side, my rationality shattered completely.

"You are mine. You can never leave me."

Within Delia's crystal-clear gaze, I glimpsed my own desires. Now, I resolved to surrender to those desires. Tonight, I will do what I had long yearned for.

Delia’s pov

"...Please, Your Highness, let me go!"

As soon as those words slipped from my lips, I watched Kral's expression darken.

Oh no, I feared that today I might be torn apart completely by the enraged Kral, losing his sanity.

His lips pressed tightly into a straight line, and his golden eyes reflected a chilling coldness in the moonlight.

Suddenly, he lowered his head, and his magnified features caused me to instinctively close my eyes in fear.

Then, I felt the world spinning.

I found myself carried by Kral.

My head rested against his chest, and even through the fabric, I could hear the steady beat of his heart. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I was in Kral's bedroom.

More precisely, I was on his bed. Even more precisely, I lay in the gap between the bed and his embrace.

"Your Highness?" I weakly uttered, but Kral silenced me with a single gaze.

The room was dim, with only faint moonlight seeping through the cracks in the windows. But for a werewolf, darkness posed little obstacle.

So, when Kral began to undress himself in front of me, piece by piece, I saw his entire form. The regal crimson robe was carelessly tossed in a corner of the bed, and he unbuttoned his shirt button by button.

Beneath the soft white fabric lay a male physique exuding immense power. Now, his body was fully exposed before me. Kral was like a beast unleashed, freely exuding his charm. With his dominance and sensuality, he invaded my vision and senses.

Every contour of his muscles left me captivated and entangled in desire. I lost track and I don't know when I became completely bare like Kral.

"Look at me, Delia. Look at me," Kral placed my hand on his body.

The warmth of his skin radiated with an awakened power, slowly surging, causing me to involuntarily trace along the lines of his physique.

"Embrace me, Delia." His eyes resembled golden waves, his deep voice muffled my senses. I obeyed his command like a puppet, succumbing to his will.

My lips and tongue were once again invaded, but this time his actions were tender.

My hair was pushed aside as my hand rested on his powerful lower back, feeling his every movement.

My body melted, and my mind became clouded. I wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, merely surrendering to his kisses. When I saw my legs placed on his shoulders, it was already too late to turn back.

"Delia, what should you call me?" Kral's sharp features carried possessiveness. The dangerous act was on the verge of unfolding.

His heat made me want to escape, yet I was trapped between the bed and his chest.

"Your Highness...?"

I opened my hazy eyes, only to catch a glimpse of mischief flickering in his gaze.

"You should be punished," Kral softly murmured, biting my earlobe. In the next moment, intense pain engulfed me, as if nails were being driven into a wall. I curled up in agony.

However, Kral was not satisfied with my submissive posture. His hands grasped my legs, while mine were forced to wrap around his neck, his sweat dripping onto my exposed chest.

A scorching sensation forcefully opened the most intimate part of my body. I moaned softly, but his actions did not cease.

"What should you call me?"

Kral's words echoed like a devil's whisper. With one hand firmly holding my soft waist and the other caressing my breasts, he continued his movements.

"Ah... I don't know," tears trickled down. I felt like a person drowning in the sea, my body wet and itchy, my mind empty, simply swaying along with the waves. My body was like a broken branch, swaying only in response to his movements.

"Delia, my girl," his breathy voice echoed in my ear, the heat emanating from him staining my body red.

"You know, darling, think about it." He didn't stop his movements, and I clung to his neck, feeling his thrusts again and again.

With each thrust, my body gradually learned to meet with his movements.

"Your Highness... Kral," my legs were already tingling. I weakly called out. But he didn't stop. Instead, he exerted even more force. His hand roamed along my curves, leaving marks on my skin.

A flash of insight crossed my mind, and I bit down on his lip.

Between his tongue and teeth, I sighed and called out that name.

"Spare me, Master," I didn't speak further. My head slowly descended, touching his Adam's apple. I sucked it, carefully wrapped it with my soft lips and wet tongue, savoring it, just like my private garden between my legs savoring his d.ick. 1

Kral's body subtly trembled, and I understood that my guess was correct. Kral cradled my face. Through my tear-blurred vision, all I could see was the curve of his lifted lips.

"You finally got it right," he rewarded me by kissing my eyes, but my body still wasn't released. It was not until my voice turned hoarse, the bedsheets drenched in sweat, and sunlight streaming through the windows that my greedy master finally withdrew from my body.

"Delia, remember, I am your master. You belong to me. You can't leave me."

Those were the last words I heard before succumbing to unconsciousness.

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