38 Mine

**Annabel's POV**

Darius’s lips traveled to the mark Maxwell had left on my neck, and a low, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. 

I could feel his tension, the way the sight of it tore at him. The mark—the memory it carried—got to him, as I knew it would. But what could I do? I couldn’t erase the past, couldn’t pretend Max hadn’t been a part of my life.

Darius didn’t linger there. His lips moved lower, brushing over the brand on my neck—the one that marked me as a slave. He kissed it, slow and deliberate, and my breath hitched at the unexpected tenderness. Without a word, he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to his bed.

As he leaned over me, his weight braced above mine, his golden eyes searched my face, piercing and full of intent. He was asking for permission, though his resolve told me he wouldn’t wait much longer for it.

"I won’t hold back anymore, Ann," he said, his voice a quiet storm. "And I won’t settle for crumbs."

Before I could respond, his lips crashed into mine, a kiss that was all-consuming, fierce, and unapologetic. 

I felt his hands at his outfit, undoing it piece by piece, and the heat in the room seemed to rise with every passing second. Soon, there was nothing left between us, no barriers, no armor, nothing but bare skin and the charged air surrounding us.

His eyes roamed over me, and the growl that followed was deep and full of approval. His hand found its way to my core, his fingers exploring with an assured touch that made me gasp. A low growl escaped him, satisfied and primal as if my response was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

"Your body won’t lie to me, Ann," he said, his voice thick with a mix of need and triumph. His fingers teased my entrance, and I felt myself melting under his touch, every nerve alive and trembling with anticipation. My mind fogged, and all I could think of was how much I wanted this, wanted him to finish what he’d started.

"Your Majesty," I breathed, my voice a soft, trembling whisper, my control slipping further with every stroke of his hand.

His gaze sharpened, his wolf rising to the surface. "What did I say about when we’re alone?" he asked, his tone low but commanding as his fingers continued their relentless caress.

It was nearly impossible to focus, but I managed, through the haze, to say, "Da…ri…us." The sound of his name on my lips seemed to ignite something in him. His eyes burned brighter, fully golden now, his wolf’s presence no longer lurking but fully there, powerful and unrestrained.

As his fingers worked their magic, I felt the tension inside me coil tighter and tighter until it broke, sudden and fierce. The release was overwhelming, leaving me breathless, but it wasn’t enough. My body craved more—craved him.

Positioning himself between my legs, he moved with deliberate intent, his gaze locked on mine as if searching for permission one last time. 

When he entered me, the sensation was all-consuming. He filled me completely, the stretch leaving me gasping, clinging to him as my body adjusted to his presence.

A low, guttural growl escaped his lips. 

"You feel so perfect, Ann," he murmured, his voice rough with restraint and need. His movements were slow at first, almost reverent, as though savoring the moment he had waited so long for. But soon, the intensity built, and he began to move with a rhythm that left no room for hesitation.

I melted into him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, trying to ground myself against the tidal wave of sensations rushing through me. 

My mind blurred, every nerve alive with tingling electricity, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. My hips moved instinctively, meeting his with a growing urgency, his guiding hands urging me to match his pace.

As he leaned down to kiss me, his lips silenced the sounds that threatened to escape, his touch consuming me completely. The world around us disappeared, leaving only him, only this. When my release came, it was powerful and shattering, leaving me trembling in his arms.

But Darius wasn’t done. Gently, he shifted me, guiding me onto my knees and elbows, his touch firm yet tender. His body pressed into mine again, his movements powerful yet precise, each thrust drawing a cascade of sensations I couldn’t control. 

I felt myself surrendering completely, my body responding without resistance, lost in the rhythm he created.

The sounds he made—low growls, sharp intakes of breath—spoke of his pleasure, and I felt the tension in him mirror my own. His pace shifted, his movements becoming more intense, more deliberate, each one pulling another wave of pleasure from me. 

My body trembled as release after release rippled through me, leaving me breathless and undone.

Darius’s presence was overwhelming, his dominance undeniable, but there was something else in his touch—something raw, vulnerable, and unspoken. 

"You’re so fucking tight," Darius groaned, his voice rough and filled with raw need as his movements grew more insistent. His grip on me tightened, his presence overwhelming. 

"Fucking Mine," he growled, the word coming out like a vow, clear and undeniable.

There was a knock at the door, a sharp interruption to the charged moment, but he ignored it completely. His focus didn’t waver; nothing could pull him away. His pace quickened, his breathing heavy, and I could feel him nearing the edge, the tension building like a storm.

"Ann," he groaned, my name a mixture of desperation and possession. With one final thrust, he spilled himself into me, pressing deep, his body shuddering against mine as he ensured not a single part of him was withheld. He emptied everything into me. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as if anchoring us both in the moment.

For a few breaths, he lingered, our bodies still intertwined, before he finally pulled away and settled beside me. The space between us felt heavy with unspoken words, but his gaze found mine, tender yet filled with determination.

"I won’t settle for crumbs, Ann," he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of vulnerability. "I want it all."

I turned to look at him, my thoughts a whirlwind. I didn’t know how to respond, but deep down, I knew the truth—I was already his, as much as I dared to be, for as long as this fragile bond would last.

"I never offered you crumbs," I said quietly, my voice trembling slightly. "You just assumed."

A flicker of something softened his features. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. His golden eyes, once fierce, now looked at me with an intensity I couldn’t quite decipher—part devotion, part resolve.

"I’ll find a way," he said, his voice laced with quiet determination. There was no doubt, no hesitation, only a promise that carried the weight of certainty.

But as the words hung in the air, doubts began to creep into my mind. Could he really find a way? Amid the court’s politics and hidden agendas, the traditions and customs that bound us all, could he succeed? 

He had fought so hard to reclaim his birthright, to strengthen his line, to secure a future that honored his family’s legacy. Would I be worth the risk of undoing it all? Of incurring the wrath of his people, of potentially sparking rebellion?

I turned my gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to voice the fears swirling inside me. I wouldn’t ask that much of him. I couldn’t. But even as the doubts gnawed at me, a small, fragile part of me dared to hope.