Chapter 57

Kennard was consumed by anxiety. What if something happened to Elena? What if she was hurt again, far from his reach? Or worse, what if her life was in danger? The mere thought of losing her felt like a physical constriction in his chest.

The memory of finding her soaked and injured in the greenhouse, with Hazel looming over her, ignited a fury he’d barely suppressed. I should have killed her right there, he thought, regret gnawing at him for letting Hazel live. The urge to hunt her down and end her life was constant, but he refused to waste a moment on her. Especially now that Elena was within his reach, every second counted.

Kennard slowly turned around. Elena, who had been burying her face in the fur, looked up at him with vacant eyes. Their gazes met, and a jolt of desire shot through him as she quickly averted her gaze.

Kennard hooked his fingers into his waistband and shrugged off his pants. Already unbuttoned, they fell easily, revealing a dense thicket of dark hair. “Elena,” he called, his voice rough with desire.

She slowly raised her head at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening in astonishment at the sight of him. His large, battle-scarred body seemed even more imposing in the sunlight. His erection was already prominent. Kennard’s gaze locked onto Elena as he moved towards her. With one hand, he grasped his manhood and began to stroke it rhythmically. The sound of flesh sliding against flesh grew louder with each stroke.

Elena’s face flushed crimson as she pulled the fur over her head in an attempt to hide. But Kennard was too quick. He leaped onto the bed and yanked the fur away. A startled gasp escaped Elena’s lips as she made a futile grab for the fallen fur.

Kennard was mesmerized by Elena’s naked form. Her chest, softly rounded beneath delicate shoulders, was perfectly cupped in his imagination. He yearned to trace the peaks of her inviting nipples. Her waist was a slender promise, leading to the gentle curve of her hips, a place he longed to hold. Her legs, long and graceful, ended in delicate ankles. Scattered scars and his own passionate marks bloomed like crimson petals against her flawless skin. She was a living masterpiece.

And it wasn’t just her body. Her thick, lustrous red hair cascaded around her, her translucent gray eyes seemed to draw him in, and her small, full lips were irresistibly soft.

From her slender wrists to her delicate ankles, every inch of Elena was exquisite. Even her nails, both hands and feet, were perfectly formed. The way she flinched at his approach, and then melted into waves of pleasure and pain beneath him, was intoxicating. A low growl escaped Kennard’s throat as he relived the memory of her body yielding to his possession.

Elena’s face was buried in her hands, her cheeks flushed. Kennard increased the pace of his hand. A bead of liquid formed at his tip, and he wiped it away with a finger before inserting it into her.

“Uh!” Elena’s body convulsed in surprise. Her hands remained clamped over her face as she m0aned and arched her back like a taut bow. Even without his full weight, her interior was already slick and swollen from the night’s exertions. Kennard gently inserted two more fingers, stroking her sensitive walls.

“Ah, Your Grace,” Elena gasped, her voice raw. “Surely you don’t mean to… again…” Her voice was hoarse from her earlier cries, and her body throbbed with exhaustion. Despite his overwhelming desire, Kennard knew he couldn’t push her any further today.

“Don’t worry, I won’t put it in today,” Kennard promised through gritted teeth. As he lowered his head to kiss her, Elena twisted her hips and grabbed his hair. “Your Grace, not there…” she protested.

Kennard continued to pleasure her with his fingers while circling the delicate nub with his tongue. The rough texture of his stubble against her sensitive skin created a tantalizing friction. Elena tightened her grip on his head and lifted her hips. Despite her protests, her body writhed in response to his skillful ministrations.

A surge of satisfaction coursed through him as he realized her body, untouched by any other man, had surrendered so completely in a single night. His fingers danced across her skin as he accelerated the rhythm of his hand, coaxing his own desire to a fever pitch.

A soft m0an escaped Elena’s lips as a flood of wetness engulfed his exploring fingers. Kennard groaned in response, his head spinning with desire. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to the source of the liquid, drinking deeply.

He rubbed the rough stubble of his chin against her delicate skin, intensifying the pleasure. “Ah, Your Grace!” Elena cried out. Kennard resisted the urge to enter her, instead focusing on the friction against his own arousal, imagining the way she would feel wrapped around him.

A powerful surge erupted from his manhood, which throbbed as if it might tear from his body. Kennard lifted his head to watch as his seed spilled out, showering Elena’s body. The clear liquid mingled with her own, tracing a glistening path down her curves. He gazed at the scene with profound satisfaction.

Elena’s hands returned to her face, shielding her from Kennard’s gaze. A wry smile tugged at his lips as he thought, What’s the point of covering just your face? He wiped the residue of her fluids from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He leaned in closer to Elena and began to tease her. Using his fingers, he mingled their fluids and traced her body before pushing them inside her. 

“Ah, stop now. It feels strange…” Elena m0aned. Her body arched and twisted in pleasure as Kennard continued his relentless movements, bringing her to the edge of clim*x.

***

Kennard spent the entire day inspecting the Terra Demorte border with Serin. The previous day, Serin had already stationed the Montefiano soldiers at the border posts. These were men who had fought alongside Serin, their faces and bodies etched with the scars of battle. Some had endured burns or lost an eye. They were utterly devoted to Kennard, willing to sacrifice everything, even their families, for him.

As Kennard approached the posts, the soldiers erupted in cheers and rushed to greet him. “Your Grace, it’s been too long!” exclaimed Heath, a seasoned veteran with a broad, gap-toothed grin. Despite missing his front teeth, Heath, a grizzled old wolf, spoke with unbridled enthusiasm. His hands, rough as tree bark, gripped Kennard’s firmly as he shook it up and down, his face alight with childlike joy. Five years ago, he’d lost his left eye in battle and now wore a leather eyepatch.

“What brings you here? Isn’t it time you retired from the front line?” Kennard clapped Heath’s grimy hand heartily.

“It’s only natural to be where Your Grace is,” Heath replied, his voice filled with loyalty. “Even death couldn’t keep me from answering Your Grace’s call.”

“I hear you’re a grandfather now,” Kennard remarked.

“Yes, sir. I spent a lot of time with him in Montefiano,” Heath said with a wry smile. “But let me tell you, looking after a child is far more challenging than the battlefield. That little one never sits still.” He exaggerated his point, causing the other soldiers to laugh. “But if Your Grace ever has a child, I’ll be there to play with them until my dying day.”

The soldiers erupted in cheers and whistles at Heath’s declaration. While the knights under Serin regarded Kennard with a mix of fear and caution, the common soldiers and serfs treated him like family. As Heath and the others crowded around Kennard, their laughter and chatter growing louder, the knights stood impatiently on the sidelines.

“Heath, that’s enough,” Serin finally interjected, his voice carrying over the noise. “Everyone, back to your posts. His Highness still needs to inspect the other borders.” He waved dismissively, but the soldiers groaned in protest. 

“Oh, but we haven’t even had a proper word with His Grace yet, and it’s already time?” one of them complained.