Sold to the Night Lord - Chapter 78: Chapter 78

He lets me stay like that as long as I need before I start to relax and sync with the rhythm of his body.
“This is so wrong…” I murmur, my lips brushing his shoulder and kissing his collarbone.
“…but it feels so good, Elara. You’re my favorite sin.”
And he is mine, without a doubt.
His fingers slide down to where our bodies are joined, and he starts tracing circles on my clit, distracting me from the pain.
His thrusts grow stronger, making my breath hitch and my legs wrap around his hips.
I surprise myself when I dig my heels into his buttocks, pulling him deeper into me.
It hurts—but I want to feel all of him.
My movement drives him mad, and his thrusts become deeper.
A cry escapes my throat.
His thumb keeps circling my clit, increasing the pressure as he feels my heart racing toward release.
Cassian buries his face in the curve of my neck, inhaling my scent while I fall apart beneath him.
His name spills from my lips in moans, my vision blacks out, and I see nothing but bursts of color as fire licks through my veins.
I feel a tiny pinch at my neck and then Cassian’s lips sucking my blood, linking my orgasm to a forbidden pleasure I refuse to admit.
“Cassian…”
He wraps his arms around me and sits on the bed with me on his lap, moving me slowly.
He grips my hips, guiding me to draw circles with my body on his shaft.
The penetration grows so deep it hurts to feel so full, and with a chaotic rhythm, his name escapes me over and over until he reaches his own climax.
His body falls forward, covering mine without crushing me, while a hot liquid slides down my thighs.
With lips stained in my blood, hair tousled by my fingers, and eyes clouded with pleasure, Cassian looks at me—and smiles.
It’s a beautiful smile that completely unravels my heart.
Speaking of my heart, it stops when I feel his semen between my thighs again.
“Cassian… what did you do?”
I bring my hands to my breasts to hide them from him.
“God, I’m not stupid—I know how women get pregnant.”
He grabs my wrists, moves my hands away from my chest, and pins them above my head.
“You’re not going to get pregnant.”
“How can you be so sure?”
The edge of his nose brushes down my throat and into the valley between my breasts.
I can practically hear him purr as he delights in my scent and the softness of my skin.
“Because I take a tonic, Elara. That’s why I’m sure.”
He slips his hands beneath me and lifts me effortlessly.
“I won’t get you pregnant, and I’ve never gotten anyone pregnant. It’s completely effective.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
I think I feel a soft kiss on my temple.
“And I’m not done with you, just so you know.
This is only the beginning of your ruin.”
He gives that cocky smile again as he lays me on the large pillows of his bed.
He steps away from me and disappears through an ornate side door.
I use the time to glance around.
The furniture is made of black wood with silver accents.
The bed has four tall posts from which hang sheer burgundy curtains.
There are no family portraits—actually, nothing decorates the cream-colored walls.
Sconces and chandeliers are scattered throughout the room, and the melted red wax makes it look like they’re weeping blood.
Beyond the bed, there’s a small archway that leads into a study, where a tall bookshelf stands filled with books.
I want to keep looking, but Cassian returns holding a damp cloth in his hands.
He touches my knee with gentle pressure.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice higher than normal.
“Cleaning you,” he replies in a bored tone.
“Open your legs, Elara.”
I hesitate.
“I’ve had my tongue inside you, Elara—I’ve seen more than enough. Open.”
“Does your tongue have to be so filthy?”
“Only filthy tongues give good orgasms.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“Your body doesn’t seem to think so. Now, please—open your legs.”
I obey only because it’s useless to resist—he’s right.
He’s seen and touched parts of me that still make me blush just thinking about it.
My legs are still trembling slightly when I spread them wide and let him run the warm, damp cloth over me.
I hiss.
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
It stings.
He continues in complete silence, carefully wiping away any trace of his release, along with the blood that proves I lost my virginity.
With him.
Oh my God.
I should feel terrible—but instead, I feel more at peace than ever, as if I were resting on clouds.
He leaves the now pink-stained cloth on the floor and, to my surprise, slides beside me and makes me rest my head on his chest.
He strokes my back in a steady rhythm.
My eyelids begin to grow heavy.
“What’s going to happen after this?”
The question slips from my lips, and I regret it instantly, because part of me doesn’t want to know the answer.
It would rather stay in ignorance.
“I don’t know.”
“Will you ignore me tomorrow—or hate me again like always?” I whisper.
“I’ve never ignored you—not even when I should have.”
He lifts my chin with his index finger.
“And I don’t just hate you—I want you. I want you beyond my principles.”
“But…”
“But don’t expect a love story.
People like me don’t get happy endings.”
“Don’t worry—I’m not going to fall in love with you.”
The corners of his eyes soften—though not too much.
My breathing grows heavier, lulled by the movement of his hand on my back.
“The problem isn’t you.”
When I wake early the next morning, whatever I thought I heard last night feels like a dream, and the spot beside me is empty and cold.