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It is a great honour to be amongst the Darkling’s favorites.
A great, great honour. It doesn’t come with titles or physical rewards but something far more cherished instead. Comes with respect and time and feeling seen.
And Alina knows she is his most favoured favorite.
Not for her wit or wisdom or skills on the battlefield. Not for the number of books she has read, facts and knowledge and memories stashed away in her head. Not for her beauty even though she knows she grows prettier for each passing day, the awkward phase of in between melted away.
She is the Darkling’s favorite because she breathes and sunlight flows from her hands. Twisting and turning and leaking and dancing, chasing away any darkness that comes near. A soft summer caress, lighting up the world around her. A stroke from her power and even the surliest person walks with a smile for the rest of their day.
(It will do more one day, one day it will scorch and burn and destroy. One day it will help her ignore her lover’s command, will bleach her hair of its color, steal something from her and in return banish pain and suffering from its holdfast. Will make the Earth grow again.
But for now it is simply made for beauty.)
Alina knows she is the Darkling’s favorite Grisha. She is Ravka’s favorite Grisha.
Their Sankta Alina.
She’s not complaining about this, it’s exhilarating to feel his gaze on her in the training yard. Exhilarating to feel his pride when he comes back from the fronts to see her grasp on her powers growing stronger.
And she won’t admit it to a single soul, but it is exhilarating to see the commoners make the sign of the saints the few times she rides through Os Alta. To see the altars and idols and know that it is her they pray to.
She’s not complaining.
It’s just that-
The Darkling also has a tendency to make his favorites his bedwarmers.
It’s not something that they really speak about in the Little Palace. Just a fact everybody above a certain age are aware of. The sky is blue and the winters are cold and the Darkling will on occasion call on one of his favorites to share his bed for an evening. Nothing shocking or untowards, the Darkling is, despite everything about him, deep down a man with the same physical urges as everybody else.
Makes sense for him to call on the people he trusts and values the most when he wants a warm body beneath his own.
And it’s not like Alina hasn’t been expecting an invitation at some point. It has not ever been a question of if, only when. An assumption shared by all those around her. Excluded her from some conversations she might have wanted to take part in. Included her in others she might have wanted to avoid.
Alina Starkova would one day be bedded by the Darkling. And unlike all his other lovers, no one could see a reality where he would allow anybody else to have her.
Another fact.
She has just always thought about it as something abstract, a thing forever stuck in the future for someone else to deal with.
Not now. Not so soon.
She can count on half a hand the number of summers the Darkling had spent at the Little Palace, the activity on the fronts always at its highest this time of year. Had expected to spend her seventeenth birthday like normal, by the lake with her friends, frolicking under the midnight sun. Laughing about how of course the Sun Summoner would be born on the Summer Solstice.
Outside in the light, not in her General’s bed, learning how to-
How to take-
To spread-
Alina hadn’t imagined spending her seventeenth birthday like this, hadn’t even considered that he would be interested in her at this age. All his other lovers being closer to thirty by the time he had extended an invitation. There had been an uproar on the gossip front when Genya had been included in his repertoire at the ripe old age of twenty four.
So she had thought there would be years before his head would turn towards her form in that way.
But it’s not like she could have said no, when the Darkling had wrapped a large hand around her wrist in the hallway after breakfast and gently told her that he wanted her to come tend to him in the evening. All soft and nice, like he would be the one doing her a favour.
It wasn’t like she could do anything other than bow her head and whisper yes, moi soverenyi, and ignore Marie and Nadia tittering behind her. Bite her cheek and remind herself that it’s an honor to be invited to his bed, an honor to feel his touch and have his attention.
It’s only ever been when, never if. And tonight the Shadow Summoner will take his Sun Summoner and all is as it should be in the world.
Her nerves aren't from not finding him attractive, every person with a working pair of eyes independent of sexual orientation knows that the man is objectively gorgeous. They aren’t from not being interested in him, because she is. Has woken up from dreams about him before, aroused and ashamed before turning on her belly and rolling against her fingers till she’s twitching against her bedsheets. Left satisfied and yet not.
Grateful for her private suit, that Genya no longer shares her bed.
It’s just that sometimes she looks at him and it feels like she’s drowning. Like he might unhinge his jaw and swallow her whole. Sometimes she looks into his eyes and she’s not entirely sure that the thing staring back at her is human.
Her lunch goes uneaten. The blue of her kefta an ever present contrast between Ivan and Fedyor. Water in her ears, yet not enough to shut out the sound of them squabbling over her head.
“Seriously Ivan, are you going to go to the Darkling and tell him he needs to wait? The man has barely been able to keep it together for the past year, I really wouldn’t antagonize him right now.”
“I’m just saying I don’t understand how he expects her to be able to take him. She’s half his size, he’s going to break her.”
“Hush, you’re scaring her, listen to her heartbeat,” Ivan grunts, but she can feel the effects of his power some seconds later, body calming, shoulders easing from their tense position. Knuckles relaxing around her unused fork, lets it clatter against her plate. There is no way she’s eating anything at all for the rest of the day.
“You know as well as I do that the Darkling is not a small man, he might hurt her.”
Fedyor leans down, nose brushing against her ear and his words are probably meant to be reassuring. “Don’t worry sweetling, he won’t. He’s going to touch you with his hands first. Pet you until you’re wet and begging, and then he’s going to slip his fingers inside you. Going to make you feel so good before he-”
The sound of her chair scraping against the floor drowns out Fedyor’s laugh as she flees. Wonders if they all know. The Grisha and Oprichniki and otkazat’sya over at the Grand Palace. Do they all know which bed Alina Starkova will be spending the evening warming?
She has more than a sneaking suspicion that they do.
He wasn’t exactly subtle when he talked to her.
The thumb stroking over the pulse point on her wrist, the way he leant over her, carefully crowding her against a wall. The look on his face, a smile that is more weapon.
Subtlety and discretion clearly hadn’t been on his mind.
No doubt about the fact that he had wanted people to see. To know what he had decided, to make his claim on her even more unbreakable.
“You have no need to worry,” Genya’s hands are gentle as she brushes through her hair. Alina slouching sideways in her chair, eyes halfway closed, undecided between contentment and apprehension. “The Darkling is a generous lover, he won’t make you feel anything except pleasure.”
Alina knows she is telling the truth. Too many times has she called on Genya over the past years only to be informed that the Darkling has beaten her there. Genya who was given to the queen when she was eleven, only to be snatched back three years later when Alina in all her glory as a two year old silent, fearful toddler had arrived at the Little Palace.
Has been Alina’s constant companion ever since.
The person she trusts the most.
“Would you like me to speak to him? Arrange for a different date when you’re less nervous?”
Tempting, but there’s no point in that. Might actually just make everything worse, to go around and wait for the next invitation. Shakes her head and tries to will the clump in her stomach away.
“Then perhaps I could be there with you, to help ease your anxiety?”
Straightens from her slouch, twists so she can look directly at Genya, hope burning in her eyes.
“You would do that for me?”
Genya has the audacity to laugh, but prevents Alina from going back to pouting in her slouched position with a hand on her cheek.
“Don’t be mad kotenok, it was just that you said that like it would be a hardship for me to be there,” bends down and kisses her uncovered cheek. “It would be an honour to see him take you.”
Is left alone in her room for the day, no one coming to call on her for the classes she’s missing. Left alone to her devices and she thinks that might just be worse. For there is no one to distract her now from her own spiralling thoughts, strips naked when her clothes start to itch against her skin. Collapses on her bed with a huff, basks in the sun pouring in through the windows.
High in the sky and she’s grateful for it’s neverending presence these days, that it won’t betray her by moving under the horizon and tell her the passing of time. Can lay there and seek it out, let it seep into her bones and calm her down. Half asleep by the time her hands start to wander over skin, tracing clavicles and ribs and hipbones.
Pointedly avoiding the area between her legs, smooth and bare after a wave of Genya’s hand a week ago. Slumbers there for hours, woken by the bell signaling dinner, the very thought of going down to the dining hall nauseating. Lays there and waits instead, until dinner is long past over and the silence is broken by Genya knocking once on the door before entering.
Alina scrambles up on her knees, half-way over the bed frame.
“What did he say?”
Receives a gentle smile.
“He will permit me to be there.”
She shoots off the bed, buries her face in Genya’s neck, uncaring of her nudity. Fifteen years of constant companionship ruining any chances of modesty.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you-”
“It really isn’t me you should be thanking. Now, go find a robe to put on. As lovely as you are, you can’t wander the halls naked.”
Turns towards the closet before pausing, turning back. Genya, not wearing her red kefta, dressed elegantly in tailored trousers and a beautifully embroidered jacket.
“Just a robe?”
“Whatever makes you most comfortable. We can find lace and frills if you want that, full ceremonial kefta. It doesn’t matter, I just thought it might be easier to go with simplicity for the first time.”
Alina goes with the robe, a shimmering grey thing made of silk that fastens high on her neck and trails behind her when she walks. Hides her skin from glancing eyes.
She has been in the War Room before. Had her first proper lessons on summoning in here once she grew from toddler to child. Has sat in on meetings with First Army officers and military strategists. Perched on a chair behind the Darkling, instructed to listen.
Had complained to Genya after the first time, after spending four hours perfectly still and perfectly silent, and completely, utterly bored.
“You’re being groomed.”
“For what?”
Genya looks up, meets her eyes in the mirror, blue like the sea with just as many secrets.
“For command.”
Come by to pick up books from his personal collection, old leather tomes hundreds of years old. Flipping through them with a short stick, not daring to touch the pages themselves.
Genya enters the room without knocking, Alina trailing a foot behind her. Curtains drawn, heavy dark fabric blocking out the neverending sun. Makes stepping over the threshold feel like moving from one reality to another.
She has never seen the war table as clean and tidy as now, not a single piece of paper littering the surface. Only the pieces mapping out the different battalions and factions remaining in their positions. Pauses at the new figure on the table, a sun placed behind the high walls mapping the Little Palace.
Avoids looking at the doors that are open for the first time, looks to the left instead, the small sitting group in front of the fireplace. The Darkling seated on one of the sofas, an arm slung over the back, staring at her with a tilt to his head. One arched eyebrow ordering her closer and she complies without question.
Walks over, proud that she manages without her legs shaking. Sits down next to him, an inch between their knees. His hand immediately goes to her cheek and she can handle that, it’s not like he has never touched her before. Alina is used to his touch on her face and her hands, a decade of tutelage under his watch. Of being broken into nothing and then rebuilt stronger and stronger under his watch.
Of him sometimes, on a rare occasion, leaving lessons behind and just putting a hand on the back of her neck. Letting Alina rest her face against his arm or chest and lean into the feeling of him drawing her power to the surface.
So this she can handle, just his hand on her cheek, cool and comforting.
“Why are you nervous Alinochka?”
Focuses on the feeling of his fingertips against her skin, a barely there caress as they drift in a barely moving pattern.
“I don’t want to be, I just am. I didn’t think-”
Trails of, not sure what to tell him. And then his hands move to her waist, closing around it and lifting her into the Darkling’s lap. Still barely eye-level with him, unfair how much taller he is than her.
“What didn’t you think? Do you worry I’m going to hurt you? I won’t, your body is made for this.”
“No,” no, because she doesn’t fear that he will harm her, not in this way. “I’m just, I wasn’t, isn’t, quite prepared for you. Didn’t think you would want me yet.”
His hands curl, doesn’t dare to look down, but she’s fairly positive she can feel the tips of his fingers touch.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you solnishko.”
“But you don't mind that I want Genya here?”
His eyes flicker behind her before meeting hers again, a smile that would have been friendly on any other face.
“She has escorted you through girlhood, it only makes sense that she is here to see you become a woman.”
Alina isn’t entirely sure that this is what’s going to make her a woman. Nadia and Marie are as immature as ever even though they both have found pleasure in a bed. Doesn’t get the chance to quarrel anyways as the Darkling lips are suddenly slotted against hers. And for some seconds it is a little awkward, no-one has ever kissed her before and she’s not quite sure what to do with her lips or her hands.
But then there’s a hand on her cheek tilting her head and another around her waist dragging her closer. Figures out how to move her lips and rest her hands against his chest, and she knows this chest.
Has laid on top of it on this very sofa, a boneless, unmoving puddle, too far gone to utter a single word. Rendered speechless by the hand calling her powers, capable of doing nothing except breathe slowly and swallow her moans.
It’s still a lot, but Alina relaxes, moves her hands from his chest to his hair, gently tugging as she opens her mouth for him. His tongue swipes across her bottom lip before sliding inside, stroking against her own. Sweet and then hungry as she responds, caught up in lust and heat and want, grips his hair more firmly, pulls him closer.
He tastes of something, something that she can’t name, but that leaves her wanting more nevertheless.
Barely registers the hands tugging at the knot of her robe, the cool air against her skin as it falls away. Is too caught up in kissing him to register anything else before his hands curls over her hips again, palms her ass and rocks her against him, and he’s hard-
A hard press between her legs and she stiffens mid-kiss. Freezes on top of him because she might be familiar with the feel of his chest under her hands, but not this. Has never felt this before. Has all her uncertainties come thundering back, and he notices, eases the grip he has on her slightly and leans back.
Alina wants to take pride in the fact that he for once looks less than perfectly put together. Wants to take pride in the fact that she has messed him up a bit, but is disrupted by the nerves racing up and down her spine.
“Do you want Genya to start instead? Let her make you feel good and relaxed and ready to take me?”
Her heart somewhere in her throat as she mulls his words over, tries not to think about the hardness she can feel pressing against her. She hadn’t even considered that possibility, had been too caught up in the idea of just having her reassuring presence with her. Thinks though that maybe it would be easier, is used to having Genya’s hands on her.
So different from the Darkling’s, covering more skin than should be allowed at once.
Turns around briefly to look at her, curled up on the opposite sofa, sipping from a glass of wine. Something uncharacteristically dark in her eyes that has Alina turn back around.
“Do you- is that- can she? You won’t be mad?”
He smiles at her, a firm hand in her hair as he leans in and kisses her again, tongue softly stroking against hers. Kisses her until she relaxes into him again, then breaks away, trails his teeth down her jugular.
“I won’t be mad solnishko. But I have one rule, okay?”
“What is it?”
“She brings you pleasure, not the other way around. You can touch her, but if I see your hands stray to where they shouldn’t, I’ll tie them up. Do you understand?”
“That doesn’t seem fair to her.”
The Darkling laughs as he scrapes his teeth over her collarbone.
“Genya’s here for your pleasure Alinochka, not her own. She knows that.”
Stands without hesitation, one arm under her ass holding her up. Moves through the room with sure steps and before she knows it she’s on her back amongst the pillows on his bed, him hovering above her. Genya comes to stand beside him and Alina wonders precisely which version of her companion she’s looking at right now.
The soldier? The friend? Someone else entirely?
Figures it doesn’t really matter, stretches a hand out in invitation, needs something to hold on to. Feels too much like prey under their stares. Thankful when Genya climbs up on the bed, gives her hand a kiss, before spreading her legs. Perches between them as the Darkling moves to the side, settling into the chair next to bed.
Leans his head in the palm of his hand as he slouches against the armrest. Blinks lazily at her and it’s not before Genya’s hands start sliding up her thighs that she manages to look away. Changed black intensity with blue warmth, slightly more manageable.
Parts her lips and accepts the kiss she’s given, a soft thing, so different from the hunger present in the Darkling’s. Has her spread her legs so Genya can settle properly between them. Feels a little strange, a little exposed, reminds herself that Genya always has her best interest at heart.
Makes herself relax into the pillows as lips move down her throat, gentle sucks and nips that has Alina hitching her breath. Unsure if she can smell or just feel her own arousal, a wetness forming between her legs. Stokes by Genya’s hands stroking her breasts, thumbs her nipples as her mouth finds a spot just above her clavicle that has her arching her back.
Loses track of time, everything concentrated around the pleasure Genya coaxes out of her. So smooth and easy that she doesn’t realise she’s rolling her hips, seeking more, until there’s a hand gliding between her legs, a teasing brush across her folds. Genya lifting her head from her skin, not a wrinkle in her shirt as Alina feels herself starting to fall apart.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
Takes a deep breath, summons bravery from some unknown place.
“I want you to make me come.”
“As the Sun Summoner commands.”
A beat, a smile, and then Genya shifts, folds in half and wraps her hands around Alina’s thighs. Keeps them in place as the first swipe of her tongue has Alina kicking her legs. Instant pleasure shooting through her, has her panting and begging.
Out of the corner of her eyes she can see the Darkling get out of his chair, has to twist her head to keep track of him. One hand curling into Genya’s hair, dragging her closer, grinding against her mouth. The other stretched above her head, gripping onto a pillow, trying desperately to find her bearing. Looks at him as he underdresses, slowly and methodically.
Kefta and tunic being hung neatly away and he is swimming before her eyes. The pleasure catching up to her, Genya moving to suck on her clit as she presses a finger inside. Instantly finding the nerves inside her, stroking in smooth waves until Alina hides her face in the crook of her arm.
“Please-” a broken whimper slipping from her, no idea who she’s asking.
“Time to show me how pretty you look when you come, little saint,” can hear the demand in the Darkling’s voice.
The pressure building and building, has her arching into the mouth suddenly closing around a nipple. Another finger enters her and Alina snaps, sobs into her arm, trashes against the arm over her waist holding her in place.
The world comes back into focus to the image of the Darkling and Genya kneeling on each side of her body, lips moving in a slow, sensual kiss, the image of two people who have done this before. Done it before and done it often.
Heat fills her body, a little of it nice, but most of it pure jealousy. Her hand lifts without permission, wraps itself in the Darkling’s hair and yanks him away.
Is filled with horrified dread as their faces turn to look down at her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Lips pressing softly against her cheekbone, is graced by a laughing little breath before they travel down to her mouth. Alina slides her fingers into his hair, petting, soft apologies for her harshness moments before.
“I think I might have raised a monster. A jealous little monster.”
“I’m not,” pants into his mouth, strokes his beard and it is so difficult to think with his fingers trailing over her skin. “-m not a monster. Just didn’t like that.”
“It’s okay Alina, I won’t kiss her anymore,” eases two fingers into her, and she’s already so full. “I’ll only kiss you from now on, only touch you. How does that sound?”
She has no answer to give, too busy kissing him, chasing away any hint of Genya remaining in his mouth. Too busy stroking her hands over his arms, digging her nails into his back. Curls a leg around his hip, holds him in place as best as she can as she rocks against the fingers in her cunt.
Two fingers become three, becomes the sensation of two smaller ones joining in and circling her clit. The Darkling rips his mouth away from her and then before she has time to complain it closes around a nipple. Beard prickly and soft simultaneously, teeth tugging to the point of pain before a soothing tongue taking over.
Everything made so much worse and so much better when Genya descends on her other breast. A truly ridiculous amount of everything coursing through her until Alina has no choice except hide in the pillows. Their touch pushes her up and up and up, towards the edge of a cliff and she’s ready to fall when everything just stops.
Fingers and mouths and hands all disappearing at the same time and she yells in frustration into a pillow. Turns her head, ready to complain and then the words die on her tongue. A look in the Darkling’s eyes that has her on edge. Something dark and twisted staring back at her, an ancient hunger reminding her of how little she actually knows about the man above her.
Bares her throat in pliant submission, leaves herself open for the hand that closes around it. Head tilted back and fingers tightening their grip, controlling but not restraining. A reminder of his control, of his ownership over her.
“Do you think me cruel, Sankta?”
Looks up at the ceiling as she feels her pulse beating in her ears.
“Just a bit,” debates her next words, tries to predict his response. “Moi soverenyi, please, I wanna come.”
“I wanna come,” his voice mocks her. “You can come with my cock inside you if you think you’re ready to take it.”
“Please-”
“Please what? I want to hear you say it Alina.”
Calls upon that bravery again, fueled by the need creeping into every last part of her body. Looks steadily into his eyes as she opens her mouth and says-
“Please fuck me.”
Has him between her legs before she can blink, hands under her ass, tilting her hips, the head of his cock pressing against her opening.
“I’ll give you anything you want, little saint. You just have to ask me for it.”
The stretch isn’t painful, she’s soaked and yielding around him, aided by the feel of Genya curled next to her, her hands tracing patterns over her breasts, her stomach, lips softly tracing up and down the column of her neck. A calming comfort. It isn’t painful, it doesn’t break her like Ivan feared it might. The Darkling was right, her body is made for this.
It’s still a lot though.
Made worse by his grip on her jaw, holding her head, forcing her to look at him as he slowly pushes into her. An intensity in them that chains her in place, unforgiving if she should try to move away from him. Forces herself to breathe, to relax, tries not to look at how much that’s still not inside her. He notices her flickering eyes, because of course he does, a satisfied smile gracing the corners of his mouth.
“It’s okay Sankta, just a little more, you can take it.”
It doesn’t feel like a little, but her garbled protest goes ignored. Feels like it goes on forever, but finally his hips press against hers. Presses her right hand against her lower belly, can feel him underneath it. Feels it as he slowly pulls back, only the head remaining before he fills her up again. The sensation has her tip her head back, mouth open as she tries to breathe.
Looks at him and just lets herself be. Sinks into the softness beneath her as the Darkling takes her, as his cock makes itself at home in her body, a steady rhythm that has her press her hand harder against her stomach. Pure pleasure dancing through her, has Alina meeting his thrusts, groaning as a thumb seeks out her clit.
A gentle, teasing touch, just enough to put an extra edge to everything.
Loses track of time once more and what does it matter? What else is there in the universe other than the feeling of the Darkling pushing into her again and again?
“Happy birthday solnishko, happy sweet seventeen little darling.”
Closes her eyes and laughs, knows nothing but bliss. Wonders why she ever was nervous, why she was worried that the Darkling might consume her completely. It’s what she’s meant for, so obvious now. His hands branding over her skin, holding her as he takes and takes and takes.
“Harder, please, harder.”
A brief kiss against her cheek.
“Good girl, such a good saint that asks for what she wants.”
Fucks her harder, the feeling of his cock just on the right side of pain. Has her twisting her hands in the sheets, can feel thread tearing beneath her nails. The pace brutal and loving and everything she needs.
“Call the light Alina,” opens her eyes and the room is drenched in shadows, can barely see the Darkling above her, has dragged her halfway into his lap, back straight and why is he so far away from her? Opens her mouth, about to complain, and is suddenly acutely aware of the hand on her arm.
The distinctively feminine hand, smooth and so much smaller than the ones curled around her waist, keeping her in place. Smooth and what was so comforting mere minutes ago is now only suffocating, wrong. Twists her head, a snarl leaving her mouth without thought.
“Don’t touch me!”
Genya instantly snatching her hand back like she has been burned, moves away to the edge of the bed. The Darkling laughs above her, a delighted, mocking sound. Bends down closer to her, gathers her arms above her head.
“I thought you weren’t a monster?” Scrapes his teeth over her jaw before she can protest, sucks a mark just beneath her ear. “My pretty little saint, do as you're told. Call the light.”
A mantra of her childhood.
Call the light.
Her first memory, hazy, the details unclear, a man crouched before her, a small flickering in her hand.
Call the light.
Older now, the man sitting opposite her, a glimmering sphere between her hands.
Call the light.
In the depths of a forest, the man wrapped around her, a winter storm around them.
Call the light.
In a bed with dark sheets, childhood and girlhood disappearing with each trust. Does as she always has, obeys.
Calls and it rushes up to meet her, no concentration needed, inhales and it’s there on the exhale. And it always feels good, always a delight to use her powers. But now? In a bed, skin against skin, one hand clutching her own above her head, another wandering her body, the Darkling’s forehead pressed against her own.
She has no words to describe it.
Rushes out of her and Alina knows nothing except euphoria. Pleasure and teeth on her neck and she screams. Feels it burst out of her, screams and light mixed together, tearing from every cell in her body. Wraps her legs tighter around the Darkling, as close as she can get, feels his shadows meet the light.
A connection, a something, like she has been split open, a hand touching her inside. More intimate than even the cock moving in her, making room, body oddly light now. Fights against his hold until her hands are freed, until she can wrap them around his shoulders, crush him down against her and there is somehow still too much space between them.
Trembles around him and she’s pretty sure she’s crying. Lips kissing her cheeks, chasing the tears away, opens her eyes and it’s unfair how beautiful he is. Speeding up his thrusts as he steals every gasp that escapes her. Thinks her chest is cracking open, something pouring into it.
Black and dense, lining her veins. Something that should feel heavy, except for the fact that Alina was made to bear the weight of it. Hums in delighted satisfaction, all the emptiness filled. Licks into the Darkling’s mouth, wants to stay like this, beneath him, forever.
He tears away from her mouth to press his forehead against hers again, hips for the first time faltering in their rhythm.
“I’m going to come now little saint, does that sound good?” thinks, she thinks she nods against him, because yes, that sounds very good. “Fill you up until you’re bursting with me, come so deep inside you that you will never be able to get me out.”
Has never felt more holy than when the Darkling’s hips stutter against her own, presses himself so deep that it hurts a little. Feels graced, anointed as she feels his cum inside her. Doesn’t know if she is the worshipped or the worshipper as his head falls into the crook of her neck, his harsh breathing tickling her skin.
His weight is crushing Alina into the mattress and she preens. Drags him as close to her as she can get him, licks sweat off his neck as she waits for him to return to her. Notices suddenly the lack of a third presence in the room, and smiles contently. Strokes his hair, lets a little light bleed out from her fingers and he groans as she trails them down his back.
“Keep doing that, and I will have to take you again straight away.”
“You say that like it’s a threat,” laughs into his ear. Continues her teasing as she feels him grow hard inside her again. Pouts when he suddenly withdraws, the lack of body heat disconcerting. Is flipped on her belly and then he’s inside her again, cock moving punishingly slow.
“You’re bedded one time and lose all respect for your General?”
“Maybe,” gasps as he shifts his angle and strokes against the nerves inside her. “Maybe you need to fuck it back into me.”
It’s addictive to hear him laugh properly, an unguarded sound that Alina wants to bottle. Keep with her forever. Speeds up his thrusts, the room filled with the sound of him moving inside her. The connection between them soaring, a space in the back of her head she has never noticed before.
“Does it always feel like this?” Twists her hand over her head, finds his hair, drags him down closer to her. “Will it always be like this?”
He kisses the back of her neck before answering.
“For you it will always be like this, little saint. As long as you’re with me, it will always feel like this.”
The Darkling takes her one more time before he lets her go. On the War Table, him fully clothed, her in her robe, open around her. Fucks her with short, intense strokes that have her hiding her face in his chest. Weeping in both rapture and overstimulation.
Half walks and half carries her back to her suite, her legs shaky beneath her. Alina tries not to think about the cum inside her, staining her thighs, risking dripping out of her at any moment. Leans into him, he smells of sex and power and her. A good combination that has her smiling, uncaring that every soul that sees them can tell what they have been doing.
Presses her into the door of her suite before he leaves. Kisses her with a hunger she hopes never disappears, the oprichniki on each side of them staring steadily straight ahead. Cradles her face, and why was she ever scared of the monster lurking behind his eyes?
“In the future my bed will be yours as well and I won’t ever let you out of it. I hope you know that.”
Nods and then goes to the tip of her toes and he still has to bend his neck to meet her lips. Unnecessarily tall, this man of hers.
Slips into her suit and is so incredibly grateful when she finds both Genya and a steaming bath waiting for her.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“Don’t be. I had far overstayed my welcome at that point. I just got caught up in watching the two of you.”
Closes her eyes and lets Genya trail a washcloth over her body. Flinches when it moves between her legs, painfully sensitive.
“How many times did he take you after I left?”
“T- two, in his bed and then on the War Table.”
“So the man does have some self-restraint.”
Cracks her eyes open at that, because what?
“I don’t know if I would call him restrained.”
Genya once again has the audacity to laugh at her, laughs even harder when Alina sinks pouting deep into the bath.
“Sweetheart, I’m genuinely surprised he let you out of his bed. The man’s been a menace lately trying to control himself around you. Even Ivan has been complaining about his attentions being too much,” a pause, eyes briefly flickering over Alina’s body. “Though, I’m guessing his attention will be solely focused on you from now on.”
“Is that- will anybody be mad?”
Her cheek is cradled again, and as nice Genya is, she still wishes it was the Darkling’s hand she was feeling.
“No kotenok, no-one will be mad. We have all been waiting for it.”
Alina wakes up the next morning sore, stiff and worst of all, wet and aching for more. Sits and thinks about the Darkling’s hands as Genya comes in, a garment bag in her hands, followed by a row of maids carrying delicately wrapped boxes. Waits until the maids are gone before she speaks.
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“These aren’t birthday gifts.”
They look at each other and it takes Alina an embarrassingly long minute before she understands.
“Because he-”
“Yes.”
“That’s-”
“I know,” Genya gives them a derisive look before turning away. Puts the garment bag on the bed and undoes the closing. “Ignore them. There’s only one present that matters anyways.”
Opens it and pulls out a kefta.
All in black, except for the silver eclipse stitched on the breast.