Pairing: Aelin G. Rowan W.
Book: Queen of Shadows
Setting: Aelin's warehouse apartment
Silently, Rowan awoke against the silky, cream colored sheets. There was a warmth to the bed that had become unfamiliar in the last month or so, and it was a warmth he had been craving. Even though he wouldn't truly admit it to himself. There she was, his queen. Dressed in that gods-damned night dress, if you could even call it that. He had been a part of this world for centuries, and even he had never came across a shop that would even dare to sell such a scandalous article of clothing. The soft pink of the very see-through lace at odds with her fading red hair. Rowan choked back a groan as she shifted her legs in her sleep, and her chilly toes brushed along his calf. He ran a calloused hands through his now short white hair, his other arm pinned under Aelin being used as a pillow of sorts.
How was he so gods-damned affected by something she was wearing, when he had seen her in nothing?
He supposed that he hadn't really seen her, not truly those times. He was always more worried about her overall well-being, or was blissfully unaware of her human beauty when he had seen her completely bare.
Off limits, he repeated to himself. She is off limits. But even he knew he was lying to himself, and as the days passed an inner war had begun with himself. Who was he to keep himself from what he desired? After he had not desired anything for so many years? Rowan remained lying in that overly soft bed of hers. The silk sheets complimented her ivory skin, and made his sun kissed skin appear much darker than it truly was. They were opposites and worthy opponents to each other. And Rowan's iron resolve became more of a malleable gold when Aelin's lips parted as she breathed in and out deeply with sleep. His eyes lingered on those full, smart-mouthed lips.
And finally his now gold resolve melted away completely as she breathed out his name in her sleep. Rowan stiffened, he knew better than to write off the breathy beautiful sound of his name to his imagination. It had been so long since he had seen her, since the tension he carried with him had started to uncoil again, but he knew he had heard his name part from her lips.
"R-Rowan..," Aelin's voice shuddered again.
She was dreaming, a nightmare perhaps? Why was she calling for him in her sleep? Rowan became absolutely still as he weighed the option of pulling her out of whatever dream world she needed his assistance in. His protective fey instincts were on high alert, but he also considered the outcome where Aelin may be upset with him for thinking she needed protecting from a dream. But he knew his own nightmares well enough to know dreams could be the darkest place one could find themselves. The all too frequent nightmares of his own caused his skin to prickle. Rowan turned his face away from the ceiling to look at her again, his decision made to pull her out of that gods-forsaken shadow world of dreams.
She was biting her lip now, which sent a whole new prickle down Rowan's spine. He tensed as her toes once more pressed against his claves, and Aelin released her bottom lip as a breathy gasp escaped. And suddenly Rowan recognized that she wasn't having a nightmare of terrifying dreams, but possibly a different type of nightmare. Aelin's scent began to fill the room, a scent filled with longing, need, and invitation. Rowan's breath caught as she once more murmured his name, clearer this time, and he was hit by a wave of her scent.
Slowly, he breathed in and out with his mouth, trying to avoid inhaling the full scent of her. The scent that normally could fill him with a longing, but when her scent was like this, filled with the hormones that called to his own – he didn't stand a chance.
Off-limits. Off-limits.
Rowan clenched his free hand into a fist when Aelin shifted closer to him, her head moving from his bicep to the point where his shoulder met with his chest. A spot that seemed to have been made for her, her hand slid onto his chest sending pulsing sensations through his stomach and much lower.
Another catch of breath from Aelin, and her leg slid over his causing another wave of scent to caress him.
Before he knew what he was doing he had turned to face her. Aelin's head sliding down to his arm again, and her leg shifting up against his hip. Rowan placed his free hand on her bare hip. The scandalous article was gathered around the narrow part of her waist. The touch elicited another soft moan from Aelin. Too far, he had gone too far. He was almost shaking with the anticipation with the need to claim what was his. And she was his, his confrontation with her cousin had done nothing more than solidify that in his mind. They had shared everything, she was his carranam, and she was his.
He had been on edge since entering the city. The loss of his magic was overwhelming at first, but not as overwhelming as scenting her cousin, the captain, and an older fading male scent on Aelin. But he had also scented himself on her skin, and he knew Aedion had sensed Rowan's scent entwined with hers. He wanted to bite her, not in violence or to force submission, but in a passionate way. To elicit ecstasy from her lips and to taste that she truly was his.
Her eyes. They were beautiful, burning, and hazy all at the same time as they slowly blinked the sleep out of them and bored into his soul.
Rowan froze, very aware of his rough hand against her scared but soft hip. They were in a relatively intimate position, well very. Even with her fire magic repressed he could see the flames dancing in her eyes. The longing that coated her dreams filled her eyes as she came into wakefulness. Rowan quit breathing. He couldn't looking into those eyes and breathe in the scent of her longing and maintain control.
"Rowan," Aelin's voice mused, still raspy with sleep and perhaps longing he thought to himself.
"You don't need to watch me while I sleep you know, besides Aedion's on first watch." She was reprimanding him gently thinking that he watched her for her safety, not because he couldn't keep his eyes off her. It was even harder to do when he heard his name part from her lips.
Rowan blinked himself out of his own daze, and pulled his hand away from the narrowing of her waist.
"I thought you were having a nightmare," the truth he reminded himself. Not the whole truth, but it was easier than telling her that her gods damn scent filled with exactly what Aelin desired had sent a feral need coursing through his body arousing his own need for her preventing him from sleeping. The need to comfort her, protect her, claim her for his own, - hear her moan his name into the night. Rowan stopped his train of thought there.
Aelin's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and the predatory part of him that needed to claim her raised its head again. She was his prey in this sense, and she was showing weakness after just waking up from what he now hoped was a very vivid dream. He pondered what Aelin liked best. What would be the best ways to have her come apart at his touch, and how could he please her best. Another destructive train of thought, Rowan reminded himself as he met her now awake eyes.
She could see something flickering in Rowan's eyes. Something she wasn't used to seeing, something she prayed to the gods she wasn't imagining. Want? Probably not. Aelin could feel her cheeks giving away her embarrassment. The fleeting images of Rowan capturing her body flashed through her mind, and another wave of heat pooled in her core.
Why didn't she have any gods' damned control over herself? She realized with horror that he could probably scent her burning need with his honed fey senses, and the blush across her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. Aelin bit her bottom lip out of nervousness. She tried to clamp down on that horror, he had thought she was having a nightmare. She must have been stirring in her sleep, or screaming. She had done that before, at Mistward. She would wake up with tears streaming down her face reliving the moments from Endovier that she could not escape even in slumber.
Aelin rolled from her side onto her back, keeping her legs clamed together. Trying, without success, to keep the scent of her dampness from spreading. Rowan's arm was still beneath her, warm against the back of her neck.
"No, it was just a dream," she supplied and flickered her gaze over to his eyes.
"You called for me," Rowan almost growled in response.
Gods above. How was she going to play off this one? She would ignore it.
So Aelin closed her eyes, and turned so her back was facing him. She was just 19, an infant compared to his experience. And she didn't know if that should bother her, how old he was. That maybe her lust for the gorgeous un-yielding fey warrior next to her was wrong on just age difference alone. A part of her went cold at the thought of having to shove her feelings for him away. Knowing that it would never be was going to hard enough to face, and she was better off stopping this before anything had even happened. But her heart sank knowing that it had already gone too far for her. Her dreams had been haunted, beautifully haunted, by that handsome fey warrior every night since they had parted. Nightmares of Rowan being hurt by Maeve as she was bound and unable to save him, nightmares where she told him she loved him and he just looked at her with disapproval and walked away from her. But then there were the dreams where all of her inner desires came true, where Rowan played her body like an instrument in a ways she didn't think were truly possible in real life.
That thought alone sent another surge of heat coursing through her, and she vaguely wondered what this type of feeling would do to her magic if she had access to it.
Rowan was still watching her. She hadn't explained the dream, but he hadn't really asked what it was about. And another wave of her scented longing hit his senses. He was drowning in it. Her scent had always affected him, but this was… he had no words exactly. Her inky tattooed scars were visible through the shear attire she wore, and seeing those alone was enough to send him into such a state of need to protect her, to bring her happiness. Before he knew it he had reached out to touch her again, and he wrapped and arm around her drawing her closer to him. Rowan tucked her against his chest, and rested his chin on her head.
It was good that she had turned away, he would lose his resolve completely if he looked into her eyes again.
Aelin lay still, nestled against him. She wanted to stay absolutely still to savor this moment. His pine and snow scent wrapped around her. She did her best to keep a completely relaxed posture, if Rowan felt her stiffen he would pull away. And while his pulling again was probably a better option, it was the exact opposite of what she wanted.
She felt something hard press against her back, she almost jolted in surprise. Rowan had perceived that flicker of surprise, but had not moved.
He should have moved, should have created space between them. But her surprise was interesting to him, as if she didn't realize that he wanted her too.
Aelin turned to face him then, draping an arm over his shoulder, her head tucked under his chin still. Rowan had stiffened subtly as Aelin's hot breath whispered against his neck.
"I-," Aelin started, her voice shaky. Shaky with uncertainty, but mostly shaky with need. She swallowed, and started again.
"I was dreaming about you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She was telling him what he already knew. "I'm sorry," her voice was softer even yet and almost broken sounding.
Rowan pulled back and placed a hand on her chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes. His gaze was questioning.
"What are you sorry for?" His question was a growl, daring her to find a fault in herself.
She had gone silent, and he knew exactly what she was sorry for, he knew the familiar guilt and the uneasiness of the uncharted waters. He kept his gaze locked with hers as he angled her neck upwards even more, silently asking permission as he moved his lips toward hers.
Yes, was the response in her eyes. Then Rowan's lips met hers. This kiss wasn't hesitant, but it wasn't demanding either. It was testing. Rowan could have groaned at the taste of her lips, how the velvety soft skin sent him over the edge almost. He pulled back slightly to see her face. She was dazed, and he could have purred. Rowan smirked.
"Yielding with just a kiss, Aelin?" Rowan voice dangerously rough with his taunt at her. Prey trapped by the predator. And his smirk turned to a grin as she growled at him before she crashed her lips onto his, taking this second kiss. And they were a tangle of limbs, Aelin having rolled on top of him. He wrapped his strong arms around her pulling her to him with a ferocity of need. He placed one hand against the back of her neck holding her to him gently, his other arm against the small of her back keeping her in place. There was a wildness to that second kiss, and Aelin nipped his bottom lip as she pulled away again for air.
Then Rowan deftly rolled them over. The silky soft mattress pressed against her back instead of the open air, and a fey prince hovering over her. Each of her wrists wrapped between his strong hands, as he gently but firmly pinned her to the bed. His breath was hot against her neck.
By the word. She couldn't think, didn't want to think. His breath was driving her mad, and she would come undone without even being touched she feared. She didn't feel trapped under him. His need to possess her was in his instincts and her blood knew she would possess him in the same way. She arched her neck, exposing it to him. His fangs just barely grazing the tender portion of her neck. Rowan dragged his fangs down to the crook of her neck in a way that made Aelin shudder with need.
"Tell me about your dream, Aelin," a command. A command that send shivers of pleasure down her spine. Rowan would be a completely different kind of lover than she had taken in the past. He was strong her equal. It would possibly be the battle of the century, but Aelin also relished in the release of control to him. Her trust in him was absolute, and she didn't doubt for a moment that Rowan would be able to please her in every way.
"Tell me," this time the words were murmured against her skin more of a tease than a command. He knew she would tell him, that she would bend to his will on this battle field he could smell it on her.
"You b-bit me," she words hitched with need, "and we l-lied together." He could hear her heart stammering and feel the flush of embarrassment by the heat that rose on her skin rather than seeing the color shift.
"And was it," he let his words draw out, "pleasurable, Aelin?" His question was almost rhetorical, already knowing the answer from the dampness of her undergarments.
"yes," Aelin whispered with such a longing that he released a small groan. He inhaled her scent and touched his lips to the base of her neck. He had bit her there once, and he longed to do it again. To taste her. He wasn't normally one to ask before he took what belonged to him, but Aelin was not someone to possess and discard, not like any former lover he had before.
So his voice was raspy but full of that predator's seduction when he asked, "May I, Aelin."
A fresh wave of scent hitting him yet again, as she groaned out, "yes." And he released one of her wrists moving his sure fingers to press expertly against the dampness of her undergarments, just applying slight pressure. Then Rowan's teeth bit down, his canines slipping into her skin of her neck. And Aelin moaned in pleasure and pain as she came undone beneath him.
He carefully pulled his canines from her throat licking the two small drops of blood from her skin as a dark, sexy chuckle escaped his lips.
"Oh you are in trouble aren't you, princess?" Rowan rasped into her ear. She was still coming down from her high. A high he can elicited from her with a single touch and bite. She would be the most fun he had in centuries.