Ronan didn’t call her out on it. If Sarael wanted to play at being dominant, he’d let her have that. She’d earned it after everything. A little roleplay was the least he could give her.

Her lips continued at his throat, trailing down to his collarbone, and her hips kept that slow, rolling rhythm against his lap. She was already breathing harder, her fingers gripping his shoulders like he might disappear if she loosened her hold.

"You feel good," she whispered against his skin. "Just like always."

"You’re very sensitive."

"I let myself be, I could be stronger, tougher, but I’d rather make myself more receptive all for you~"

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her heart-shaped pupils blown wide, her violet hair messy around her face. The lingerie was nonexistent now, dissolving into shadows as her concentration slipped.

"But even without it—"

She pressed one of his palms flat against her stomach.

"I’m sure you’d feel just as good."

Ronan let his fingers trail upward, tracing the curve of her ribs. She shivered, her shadows flickering against the walls.

"You’re doing good," he said. "Taking charge like I asked."

"I want to do more. Can I?"

"Go ahead."

She pushed him onto his back. He let her, his shoulders hitting the mattress with a creak of old springs. Sarael followed him down, straddling his hips properly now, her thighs squeezing his sides.

She reached down between them, her shadows making quick work of his pants and flicking them across the room without a care. Her fingers wrapped around his cock with that same deliberate slowness she’d used on the sausage sticks earlier.

Examining.

Learning.

"You’re already hard."

"Did you expect anything else?"

She giggled, a little too wide, a little too unhinged, but it was genuine. Then she guided him inside her, not even bothering with more foreplay, sinking down with a gasp that turned into a moan halfway through.

Not like she even needed it.

"Ronan—"

Her head fell forward, her hair spilling around them like a curtain.

"Okay?" he asked.

"More than okay~! Just... give me a second."

She stayed still for a moment, her walls fluttering around him as she adjusted. Her breathing was ragged, her fingers digging into his chest, her heart-shaped pupils flickering between round and heart-shaped like her body couldn’t decide which state was appropriate.

Then she started to move.

Slow at first. Experimental. Her hips rolled in that same rhythm from before, but deeper now, fuller. Every stroke made her gasp, and every gasp made her shadows pulse.

[Affinity: 2.1% → 2.9%]

Ronan watched her through half-lidded eyes. The way her violet hair stuck to her forehead. The way her lips parted with every downward stroke. The way her shadows curled and thrashed against the walls like they were trying to grab onto something solid.

She was beautiful like this. Completely unguarded. Completely his.

"You’re staring," she breathed, her rhythm never faltering.

"Obviously."

"I like it, I-I like it so much when you stare at me."

Her voice was getting higher, breathier, the control she’d been clinging to starting to fray at the edges, and her thighs trembled against his hips, and her heart-shaped pupils were practically glowing now.

Sarael leaned forward, pressing her palms flat against his shoulders, changing the angle just enough to make them both gasp. Her face hovered inches above his, her violet eyes scanning every micro-expression, every twitch, every sign that he was enjoying this as much as she was.

"Ronan," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I want to tell you something."

"During?"

"It’s important—ah~!"

She clenched around him mid-sentence, her whole body shuddering, but she forced herself to keep going, to keep moving, to push through the pleasure because she had something to say and nothing was going to stop her from saying it.

"I-I want to mark you, I want to mark you properly, the way wives do."

Her thrusts grew more erratic, her rhythm falling apart as she got closer to the edge. But her eyes never left his face, and her voice took on a desperate, almost frantic edge.

"B-Bite marks, scratches, anything, something that says you’re mine, something permanent. Please let me leave something. Please~"

Her hips slammed down harder, and her walls clenched around him like a fist. She was close. He could feel it in the way her thighs shook, in the way her voice kept cracking on every other word.

Ronan’s hands found her hips, steadying her even as she trembled. Her words were still sinking in, and his brain was struggling to process them while the rest of him was very much occupied.

"You want to mark me?" he managed, his voice rougher than he intended.

"Yes~!"

She gasped the word, her hips still moving, still chasing that edge even as she waited for his answer. Her heart-shaped pupils were massive now, nearly swallowing the violet of her irises, and her fingers were digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave crescents.

"P-Permanent marks. Scars. Something that won’t fade even if I’m not there. Something that tells everyone you’re already taken."

Her rhythm stuttered, and she let out a broken whimper. She was holding herself back, waiting for permission. Even now, even while she was falling apart on top of him, she was still asking.

"I want them to see it," she whispered, her lips brushing his jaw. "Every person who looks at you, I want them to know you belong to someone!"

Ronan’s grip on her hips tightened.

"You’re already jealous of people who aren’t even in the room."

"I’m jealous of everyone."

She said it without shame, without hesitation, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I was already jealous about a bow, imagine how I feel now with other people near you~"

She was close. He could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around him, in the way her rhythm had dissolved into frantic, desperate grinding. Her shadows were thrashing against the walls now, knocking over the chair near the table, sending food skittering across the floorboards.

And still she kept going, waiting for his answer, holding herself back from the edge because she hadn’t gotten permission yet.

Ronan reached up and pulled her down by the back of her neck. Their foreheads pressed together, her violet eyes filling his entire vision.

"Do it."

Her whole body seized.

"W-What?"

"Mark me. However you want. Wherever you want. I’m giving you permission."

He kissed the corner of her mouth, soft and brief.

"You’re my wife. Act like it."

Something snapped behind her eyes.

The heart-shaped pupils contracted, then blew wide, and her hips slammed down with enough force to make the mattress groan. She didn’t hold back anymore, and her rhythm was wild, desperate, driven by something that had been waiting centuries to be unleashed.

"Thank you—thank you, thank you, thank you—!"

She chanted the words against his throat, her lips dragging across his skin between gasps. Then her mouth opened wider, and he felt her teeth.

She bit down at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The pain was sharp and immediate, cutting through the pleasure like a blade, and Ronan let out a groan that was half-pain and half-something else entirely.

"Fuck—"

She didn’t let go. Her teeth stayed buried in his skin while her hips kept moving, kept driving him deeper, kept chasing that edge she’d been holding back for so long. He felt her tongue press flat against the wound, felt her swallow, felt her whole body shudder as the taste of his blood hit her throat.

Then she came.

Her walls clamped down around him with a force that dragged him right over the edge with her. He spilled his cum inside her with a groan, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise, and Sarael’s scream was muffled against his shoulder where her teeth were still buried.

"H-Hubbies seed... Ronan’s babies, it’s in me, yes~!"

Sarael’s jaw finally relaxed. She pulled back slowly, her lips stained red, and Ronan felt the blood trickling down his shoulder and onto the sheets.

She stared down at the wound, at the perfect imprint of her teeth carved into his skin, and her expression was pure, unfiltered bliss.

"Perfect," she whispered, her finger tracing the edge of the bite. "B-Bite me as well, Ronan, anywhere you want~"

She collapsed onto his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, her breathing slowly evening out. Her shadows curled around them both like a blanket.

"I love you," she murmured. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Ronan stared at the ceiling, one hand resting on her back, the other pressed against the bleeding bite mark on his shoulder. His body was still humming, his mind still catching up to everything that had just happened.

"Y-You’re literally insane."

Ronan laughed, already thinking of where to bite her; it was obvious it wasn’t optional anymore.

"But... I love it."

[Affinity: 2.9% → 3.4%]

[Intimacy Level: 3 → 4]

[Level Cap Unchanged]