Everything belonged to Areos. From the underwear she wore, to the water she drank, to the air she breathed, everything was his. And so it was only natural that Cyrene, made entirely of things that belonged to Areos, was not her own either, but his.

She clung desperately to the cloak. It was the first thing she had ever received in her life. The voice that had said “Let us meet again” echoed in her mind.

I hope we meet again.

What would she say then? Of all the things she knew and could do, there was nothing she thought he would like. S*x or kissing – Ilion had always avoided it.

She hoped they could meet without doing anything.

Why? Why did she feel this way?

Until now, the only person Cyrene ever thought she wanted to see was Areos. After all, he was the only person in her life.

Now there was someone else. Someone whose face she could remember, whose name she could say and who meant something to her.

A slight smile formed on Cyrene’s lips. As she buried her face in the cloak again, the scent of Ilion lingered faintly beneath the sharp stench of s*men.

She hoped tomorrow would come quickly.

Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Any day would do, as long as it was a day she could see Ilion again.

For the first time since entering the Crown Prince’s palace, Cyrene found herself desperately wishing for a day other than today.

***

Counting the days seemed pointless. Each one dragged on endlessly. She stared blankly at Areos face. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

She shook her head. She knew it was not a good idea to mention anyone else in front of him. His hand, which had been gently caressing her cheek, brushed against her ear. It felt strange to be held by him, especially now that she looked more tidy than she had in a long time. Since the morning, she had clung to him as if they had returned to the past.

He took her wrist and gently pulled her onto his lap. As she sat on his thigh, his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist. The warm breath that fell against her neck and shoulder was lazy and heavy.

“Cyrene.”

Her name escaped his lips like a sigh, his voice slow and deep as he pulled her into an embrace so tight it was almost suffocating.

“You belong to me.”

“Yes.”

What did that even mean?

Cyrene stared blankly at the ceiling. She belonged to Areos, yes, but now she belonged to others as well. The things that had once been Areos’ alone now belonged to other men as well.

His lips pressed against her neck, then parted to bite hard into her shoulder.

“Ugh.”

A sharp pain shot through her, making her jump. As she recoiled, Areos pulled her dress, exposing her shoulder and the top of her chest.

“Annoying.”

His low voice rumbled from deep within, sending a shiver down her spine. His large hand gripped the fabric of her bodice and tore it apart. The harsh contact with her exposed skin made Cyrene let out a choked, tearful moan.

“I’m angry. Even though there’s no real reason to be.”

His dark, low whisper crawled down her spine. The hand cupping her br*ast softened almost immediately, now gently rolling her hardened n*pple, tracing the curve of her br*ast with its fingertips.

“Ugh…”

Cyrene inhaled sharply. Areo’s lips, once on her neck, moved slowly down her spine. His hand, now moving with a touch of urgency, slid lower, brushing over her underwear.

“Ah.”

His fingers touched her already damp entrance, the w*tness soaking through the fabric. The hot breath he exhaled clung to her skin, sticky and heavy.

“Haah.”

His earlier anger had given way to a languid sigh that brushed against her ear. Without hesitation, his hardened p*nis slid into her, familiar in its intrusion.

“Haaaaa…”

Cyrene braced herself against the desk, her legs spread wide, her toes wiggling in the air. The hands gripping her hips moved her body slowly, rocking her against him. The p*nis that had penetrated her so deeply slid out at an agonisingly slow pace, only to plunge back in again.

The lifted hem of her dress fell over her head, covering her. Her nails dug into the smooth surface of the desk.

“Ahh…!”

She could feel his gaze lingering on her bare bottom, as if enjoying the sight. She could tell he was watching his dark, swollen p*nis disappear and reappear between her thighs, enjoying the sight as much as the act itself.

Her inner walls tightened. Every time she tried to straighten her trembling waist, Areo’s thrusts went deeper, sending shivers through her body and tightening the pit of her stomach.

“Ahh, ugh…!”

Cyrene gasped, throwing her head back. His slick hand, wet from her *rousal, slid up to stroke her slender neck gently before wrapping around it.

“Hngh, Your Highness, ah…!”

As his grip on her neck tightened, just enough to catch her breath, he pulled her back into his embrace. The pressure constricted her airways and her chest heaved in desperate gasps. The rush of blood to her head made her heart beat wildly, the rhythm pounding in her ears.

“Haah, ahhh… ah…”

Cyrene struggled, clawing at his hand to free herself. Her head spun and her whole body tensed as she struggled to breathe. Her nails left long red marks on the back of Areos’ hand.

“Ha…”

A drop of blood welled up. Whether it was the pain or something else, his grip loosened slightly. Cyrene took a deep breath, getting some much needed air.

“Haah, haa…”

Her body remained tense from the lingering fear, and that tension caused Areos to twitch inside her, spilling deep inside her. She could feel it clearly, the sensation causing her br*ast to rise and fall erratically as she braced herself against the desk, her face flushed red. She wanted to escape.

This had never happened before. The vivid sensation of his s*men spilling from deep inside her made her tremble uncontrollably. As Cyrene tried to wriggle away, Areos’ arms wrapped around her, trapping her in place.

“Hngh, ugh…”

Fear coursed through her body, making her tremble. The more she gasped and struggled, the tighter his arms became, until once again, her breath was choked off entirely.

“Haaaa… ugh…”

She couldn’t even find the strength to beg him to let her go. Tears streamed down her face, falling uncontrollably. For the first time, the thought crossed her mind that he might actually kill her. Areos was that kind of man – almighty, an absolute god. Someone who mercilessly discarded or destroyed anything he deemed unnecessary.

“Ugh, ugh…”

She tried to stifle her sobs, but the fear wouldn’t go away. Her shoulders shook violently. Deep down, where she was still holding him, she could feel herself shaking uncontrollably. His once softened p*nis began to harden again.

“Cyrene.”

Areos lifted her effortlessly and turned her to face him. Cyrene couldn’t even bring herself to meet his gaze. The sticky sensation of his p*nis between her legs sent an unwelcome wave of pleasure through her. It was strange, she thought – despite her fear, her body still craved pleasure.

“Cyrene.”

He said her name again.

He didn’t seem to expect an answer as he whispered softly, his tongue tracing the tears streaming from her eyes. Areos lips moved delicately across her flushed, tear-stained cheeks.

“Were you afraid?”

“Hmmm… ugh…”

The question itself frightened her even more. Her body shook and Areos pulled her back into his arms. His hand slid slowly down her bare back in a soothing motion.

“Ugh… ah…”

He was the only one she could hold on to. She knew that all too well. Hesitantly, Cyrene grabbed his clothes and buried her head in his chest. The shaking wouldn’t stop.

His large hand brushed over her back repeatedly. With each trembling breath, Areos scent filled her senses. It reminded her of a predator – intimidating, almost terrifying.

Ilion…

In the Crown Prince’s arms, she thought of him.

For some reason, being in his arms seemed warm and comforting. Cyrene held her breath as Ilion’s face came to mind. Slowly, her trembling began to subside.

“I am the only one who can satisfy you.”

“Isn’t that right, Cyrene?”

The answer had already been given. And, truth be told, it was true. She had been moulded by Areos’ touch long ago. No matter how many men she had been with, none could make her feel like he did.

“Answer me.”

The hand that had been stroking her hair suddenly tightened, grabbing a handful of it.

“Ah.”

Her head snapped back with a short gasp. His golden eyes glinted dangerously, almost predatory. Cyrene had never seen a wild beast in person, but she often thought they had the same look as Areos.

Cyrene managed a small nod, and a faint smile softened the Crown Prince’s rigid expression.

“That’s right. You’re mine.”

Her hips were pulled tightly against him and she could feel the hot, hard p*nis pressing against her flat stomach. It twitched and pulsed, slick and eager. He lowered his head, his tongue brushing her lips as it always did, teasingly familiar.

There was a hint of a smile on his face. Her back was pressed against the hard surface of the desk and in one swift motion the throbbing p*nis plunged deep inside her.

“Ahh-!”

Her whole body shook. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist. With each thrust of his hips, the desk rocked noisily, the sound echoing through the room.

“Ahh, ugh, ah…!”

His touch was unexpectedly gentle, as if the earlier roughness had been a lie. The slick walls of her insides were stretched and scraped with each deep, deliberate movement, sending jolts through her body.