Heir of Terrasen

by theirishleprechaun

Aelin/Celaena fulfilled her promise to Nehemia. She brought the continent peace. Regained the throne of Terrasen. Now she wants a child, an heir to her lineage. The only problem is finding a sire. (Don't judge me, I finished Heir of Fire and had no outlet because our fandom is so tiny and lacking on nearly every website).

2. Chapter 2

Aelin gasped, unprepared for the unbridled passion that was spilling off of Rowan in waves. Even the intimacy between her and Chaol paled to this. Rowan claimed her mouth again, dominating her with barely a touch. Being front to front was not close enough for him and he grabbed her ass, effortlessly picking her up and wrapping her deadly legs around his hips. Those svelte legs of hers could choke the life out of a man, crush his throat, dent a chest cavity, break bones. But she would never use them on Rowan, not in that way. Her legs cradled him. His kisses went up a notch, eventually dropping to her jaw, and then her neck. His fangs were out, as they always were when he experienced strong emotion. And much like the first time he bit her, albeit for different reasons, Aelin shifted forms. His fangs were pleasure and pain combined. She craved it. He was testing her skin, not piercing the delicate skin, but scraping and nipping. He let up for a second, and Aelin took advantage of the opening, lunging for his exposed neck. She kissed his neck, almost prepping it for her bite. Then before he could react her fangs had broken skin. The most thrilling moan escaped his lips. She tasted his blood, like a good aged wine, with a hint of wind.

She could feel him hard in between her legs. She squeezed him tighter, almost like a vice. Shamelessly rubbing herself against him with the help of his arms holding her up and steady. A whine leapt from her throat.

She looked into his eyes, "I need you. All of you."

His response needed no voice. Rowan silently walked them back to the bed, letting her down and unwrapping her like a very late birthday present. First her breeches and boots, followed by her tunic. He had seen her topless before, and vice versa, but never in this context. Her breast band was the last to hit the floor. He gazed at her form, roving over the tattoos running down her side and back, ones that he himself had written into her skin. Her lovely scars, each and every one like a jewel.

There was a knock at the door.

It was Aedion. "Prince Rowan, you are needed."

Aelin pulled a sheet off her bed to cover herself, looking sheepish and annoyed at the interruption. Rowan looked worse, but he had no choice.

"Your cousin seems to have a talent for picking the worst times."

They kissed once more before he exited, not bothering to hide the bright red marking that she had left on his neck.