The room closed in around them like a velvet trap—thick with perfume, sweat, and something deeper. Syrene stood slowly, the silver silk of her gown slipping down her shoulders, pooling at her feet like liquid moonlight.
Renji watched her with quiet intensity. There was no hesitation now. No nervousness. No desire to prove himself. The power in his gaze alone pinned her in place.
She bit her lip as she approached, bare and trembling. Her knees buckled under the weight of his presence.
"Do you want me to beg, my prince?" she whispered, voice barely audible, eyes downcast.
Renji raised her chin with a finger. "Not yet."
He stepped behind her, lips grazing the nape of her neck, one hand tracing her spine—slow, precise. She shivered.
"You used to be on top," he murmured, lips brushing her ear. "Now look at you."
"I was blind," she confessed, her breath catching as he ran his hand down to her hips. "Blind and foolish. I didn't know who you were."
Renji chuckled, a low growl. "And now?"
"I know I belong beneath you.", Syrene replied in a submissive tone.
That did it
He spun her around, lifted her with ease, and carried her to the silk-laced bed. Her thighs wrapped around him, already wet, already begging.
He didn't kiss her lips—he kissed her throat. Her collarbone. Down her chest, slow and deliberate. Worshipping. Claiming.
Syrene moaned, arching into him, her body instinctively offering everything.
"Good girl," he growled.
Her breath hitched.
Those words struck her harder than any spell. She clawed at his back, desperate.
"You'll take everything," Renji whispered, "and when I'm done, you'll thank me for it."
She gasped, nodding—then screaming, as he finally slid inside.
Syrene's cries still echoed softly as Renji withdrew from her warmth, breath heavy, eyes blazing.
"On your knees," he ordered, voice like silk wrapped around steel.
She obeyed instantly, sliding off the bed with a sensual grace that made even the room itself seem to hold its breath. Her eyes stayed locked to his as she knelt between his legs, fingers trembling with need.
Renji stood tall, muscles flexing, his arousal dripping with her slick need. He brushed a hand through her silver hair, gripping it gently but firmly.
"You teased me once, remember?" he whispered, voice low. "Laughed when I couldn't hold back."
Syrene looked up at him with a reverent hunger. "Mock me for it now," Renji growled, pressing himself against her lips.
She didn't speak.
She opened her mouth.
Her lips wrapped around him like a prayer.
Renji groaned, tilting his head back, the heat of her mouth, the swirl of her tongue, the way she moaned around him—it was like she was devoted to every inch of him. Her fingers clutched his thighs, nails digging in slightly with every deep, wet suck.
"That's it," he grunted, gripping her hair tighter, guiding her rhythm. "You were made for this, weren't you?"
Syrene nodded with him still in her throat, eyes watering but never breaking contact. She wanted to please. No—serve. Her pride was gone. Only submission remained.
Renji's hips flexed, fucking her throat slowly, then faster. She took it all.
The sounds—sloppy, sinful, steamy—filled the room like music from a dark symphony.
He finally pulled out, a string of spit connecting them, her lips swollen, eyes dazed and blissful.
"You're going to swallow more than that tonight," he whispered darkly, dragging her back to the bed.
She smiled, breathless. "Yes, my prince."
Renji climbed back on top of her, his hands gripping the curve of her waist. He didn't ask for permission. He didn't need to.
Her body was his, completely. And she surrendered.
Her legs parted, inviting him deeper. Her body trembled as she awaited him, head thrown back, mouth parted in anticipation. Her skin flushed, breath shallow, heart hammering in her chest.
"Ready for me?" Renji growled, his voice rough with desire.
Syrene nodded, looking up at him with those wild, desperate eyes. "Always."
With one powerful thrust, he buried himself in her, making her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. He didn't wait. He kept his pace hard and relentless, each thrust pushing her further into the bed, making her moan louder, each cry of hers music to his ears.
Renji pulled back and drove into her again, and again, the rhythm unyielding, the passion scorching. Syrene couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All that mattered was him—his presence, his heat, his control.
Her hands scrambled for purchase on his back, and with one deep, punishing thrust, she cried out his name, her body shuddering as she came undone beneath him.
But Renji wasn't finished. Not yet.
He pulled her up into a sitting position, her back pressed against his chest. He grabbed her hips and slammed her down on him, the new angle forcing a deep, guttural moan from her.
"Look at you now," Renji hissed, voice rough, hot breath against her ear. "You're mine. You've always been mine."
Syrene's heart raced, her body responding eagerly, willing, giving. She moaned again, her body rocking with his. This time, when she came, she was loud—louder than before, almost as if she wanted everyone to hear.
Renji slammed into her one final time, his body stiffening as he filled her, marking her as his. He held her close, his breath ragged.
Syrene collapsed into his arms, utterly spent, her body still trembling from the intensity. She kissed his neck gently, whispering, "Thank you... my prince."
Renji chuckled, caressing her hair. "You were made for this, Syrene. Don't forget that."
When they were cuddled up, and Syrene had drifted off to sleep beside him, Renji heard a strange voice just outside the room, someone was calling him.