Bound To The Ice Dragon King
Chapter 212: His childhood memories

Chapter 212: His childhood memories

"Make Love to me tonight, Draven." She whispered against his lips.

Draven, who had been controlling his desires ever since this afternoon when he saw her in this orange dress he bought for her, didn’t protest. "I will make love to you, my dear."

Rhea closed her eyes, leaning against him in complete surrender. He bent his head, brushing his mouth against her temple, his hand slowly sliding upward to caress the fullness of her breast. His mouth trailed a hot path down her cheek to her ear, his tongue exploring each fold as his hand slipped inside her dress, cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over her hardening nipple.

Awash in a sea of pure sensation, Rhea made no protest when he covered her lips with his. She felt no shame when her dress slid down around her hips or when he carried her to bed and took off his clothes, his bare, muscled shoulders glowing like snow in the milky light of the lamp as he leaned over her, skillfully parting her lips with his tongue.

With a silent moan of surrender, she slipped her hand around his neck, her fingers sliding into the curling hair at his nape, holding his mouth pressed fiercely to hers as she welcomed his tongue and gave him hers.

His wife’s innocent ardor was more than Draven’s ravenous body could withstand. He hadn’t made love to her in four days, as he had been intending not to tire her every night with his wild hunger.

Wrapping his arm around her hips he pulled her into vibrant contact with his straining thighs, molding her body to the rigid contours of his. His other hand cupped the back of her head as he drove his tongue into her mouth again and again, forcing her to give him back the sensual urgency he was offering her.

When she tore her mouth from his, Draven almost groaned with disappointment, thinking he had frightened her with his unbridled passion, but when he opened his eyes, what he saw on her face was neither fright or revulsion, it was wonder.

A knot of tenderness swelling in his chest, he held perfectly still, watching as Rhea took his face between her hands, her trembling fingertips reverently caressing his eyes, his cheekbones and jaw, and then she leaned up and kissed him with an ardor that nearly matched his own.

Turning into his arms, pressing him back into the pillows, her sliver hair spilling across them like a satin veil, she kissed his eyes, his nose, his ear, and when her lips closed over his nipple, Draven lost control.

"Rheanna," he groaned, his hands rushing over her back and thighs and buttocks. His fingers dug into her hair, pulling her lips back to his fevered mouth. "Rheanna," he whispered hoarsely, his tongue plunging into her mouth, tangling with hers as he rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his.

"Rheanna," he murmured hotly as he hungrily devoured her breasts and stomach and thighs with his mouth. He could not stop saying her name. It played like a melody in his heart when her arms went around him and she lifted her hips, willingly molding herself to his engorged manhood; it sang in his veins as she welcomed the first fierce thrust of his body into hers, it rang through every fiber of his being as she matched his fierce, driving thrusts, and it exploded in a crescendo as she cried out, "Oh, Draven," her nails biting into his back, her body racked with wave after wave of pleasure.

His body straining, desperate for release, Draven dragged his lips from hers and leaned up on his forearms, waiting for her tremors to subside as he gazed down into her beautiful, shadowy face. And then, because he could hold back no more, he drove into her one last time, gasping her name. His body jerked convulsively again and again and again as he spilled his life into her, holding her hips to his hips and her mouth to his mouth.

Lying on his back, his wife cradled tightly against his side, he waited for the thundering beat of his heart to subside, his hand roving over her satiny skin, his mind still dazed by the explosion of his body. In all his years of aimless sexual encounters in brothels, nothing had ever approached the shattering ecstasy he always experienced with his wife.

Beside him, Rhea raised her head, and he tipped his chin down, looking into her eyes. In their slumberous dark depths he saw the same wonder and confusion he felt. "What are you thinking?" he asked with a tender smile at her upturned face.

An answering smile touched Rhea’s lips as her fingers splayed across his chest.

Only one thought had crossed Rhea’s mind and, rather than hide it or feel embarrassed about it as every human girl was thought to feel, she confessed to the her thought. "I was thinking," she whispered while making random circles on his chest, "of how many women you’d done this with before me."

She was aware that Alina never gave him the liberty to touch her and instead gave him permission to find pleasure in women from brothels until they were married. But she was just curious to know a lot about him, not just how many women he’d slept with, but how his life was in the past.

"My darling wife wouldn’t like to hear the numbers," Draven countered, his smile widening to a wicked grin, "There are a lot of them, who I forget their names the moment they left my palace." He said, "Even though I am an immortal, who has lived for more than a thousand years, I am still a man. But the numbers of the women I bedded in the past doesn’t matter now, because only you, I shall love until my last breath." He kissed her temple.

Rhea’s heart warmed up at those words, she used her fingers to traces his jaw as she asked, "What was your childhood like without any family members?"

Draven looked down at her, "It’s hard to explain it in words, but I can show it to you if you want." He said.

She frowned, "How will you show me?"

"I will let you see my childhood memories through our connection. Just close your eyes and you will see all the memories I will share with you." He said.

Rhea nodded and closed her eyes, as she closed her eyes, the room around her seemed to fade away, replaced by scenes from Draven’s past. The air was thick with a sense of longing as she found herself in a grand palace. A cute little boy with blue eyes, no older than six, stood there. His face was filled with innocence and curiosity as he pleaded with a stern-looking man.

"Please sir, let me go out and fly with the other children. I just want to have friends..." the young Draven begged, with tear filled eyes, his voice carrying the vulnerability of a child seeking comfort.

The man’s voice, seemly his mentor echoed through the memory, cold and unyielding. "You are an El-Dezeus, a powerful dragon, destined to be the most powerful King on earth. You must not lower your royal blood by mingling with common children. Learn your responsibilities."

Rhea felt a pang in her chest as she witnessed another memory. The same little boy, now a bit older, sneaked out of the palace to join the laughter of children his age, he seemed happier as he played and changed form back and forth with the children. "We will play again tommorow," he promised the children as he hurried back to the palace in the evening.

But when he returned to the palace naked, with just a thin clothe tied around his hips, as his clothes were destroyed from transforming, his mentor was already waiting for him in his room.

The teenage Draven’s smile fell the moment he set eyes on the man pacing in his room. The mentor’s wrath was swift, he landed a harsh strike across Draven’s cheek.

"You disobeyed my orders again! A Dragon King doesn’t engage in such frivolities. You are letting the El-Dezeus name down by running around naked with commoners! Discipline is essential before your coronation!" the mentor scolded and punished him, then left the young Draven alone in his room, tears streaming down his face, as he cried out for his parents, who he had never met before.

As the memories unfolded, Rhea saw Draven grow into a man, his innocence replaced by a stoic demeanor. He ruled his clan as taught, but she noticed the weight of responsibility left him joyless. He lived alone in his huge palace with just servants and no family but a strict mentor.

Rhea saw a memory where he blankly stared at the sky on a balcony, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he made no sound. He silently shed tears, pain hidden beneath the mask of kingship.

Rhea’s empathy deepened as she realized the loneliness and sadness that burdened Draven as a king. The urge to comfort him overwhelmed her. In a moment of vulnerability, she yearned to be there for him, to hold him close and let him release the pain he concealed.

As a tear slid down Rhea’s cheek, she felt the gentle touch of Draven’s hand, wiping away her tears. The connection between them transcended the memories, intertwining their emotions. It was then that Rhea understood — she wasn’t just witnessing Draven’s past; she was sharing in his pain.

"You went through a lot in your childhood as well..." Rhea mumbled as tears blurred her vision.

Draven caressed her cheek and smiled, "It’s was a long time ago. Oh, Rheanna, don’t cry," he pulled her into his embrace and ran his hand up and down her spine.

Rhea couldn’t help the tears in her eyes and the emotion that overwhelmed her. She now realized why Draven sneaked into Birhhan in the past, and she also understood why he never wanted to rule as a king again. It was a huge burden he had been forced to carry as a little boy.

Finally, Rhea pulled back from his embrace, she looked up at him with tears stained face, "Don’t worry, I will never let you experience such loneliness again," she kissed his cheek, "Because in the future, we will have a house full of our children. We will let them have the childhood we never had." She promised.

Her words brought a smile to Draven’s lips, "How many children can you bear for me, my love?"

Unaware that she could so easily stir his desire, Rhea trailed her fingers down the flat planes of his hard stomach as she replied, "How many would you like us to have?"

"I was thinking perhaps five, all of them girls." he replied fondly, then he caught her wandering hand in his, flattening it beneath his palm to prevent it from straying lower, "I want them to look just like my wife," he added, releasing her hand.

His breath caught as her hand slid down the side of his thigh. "Rhea," he warned hoarsely, but it was already too late, desire was pouring through him, making him rigid. With a smothered laugh at her startled expression, he caught her hips and lifted her, settling her gently but firmly atop his swollen shaft.

"Take as long as you like, little one," he teased huskily, "I’m entirely at your service." His laughter faded, however, as his wife leaned down, straddling him, and sweetly covered his mouth with hers.

"We might as well start the process of child making."