Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife-Chapter 282: She’s not real

Thalia held him through the convulsive shaking. He was in pain, barely conscious, groaning and breathing hard. He tried to curl into a protective ball, but she held him too tightly. "You’ll be fine." She kept telling him. "Wake up, please. Open your eyes..." She cried this time in fear of him dying now.

As if he heard her cries and pleading, he unbelievably obeyed. His lids half-lifted. His eyes were glazed, unfocused. Then they closed again, dark lashes resting on his pale cheeks. His arms swept up and locked around her, desperately clinging to her warmth as he was wracked by another bout of uncontrollable shaking. His entire body was tense, shuddering.

He was as strong as an ox, his arms were like steel bands around her. Thalia endured it and murmured soothingly to him, rubbing his shoulders, pressing as close to him as she could.

His skin definitely felt warmer now. She was hot, sweating from exertion and being swaddled in the heated blanket and tent. She was exhausted from the effort of dragging him all the way here and wrestling to get him inside the tent and out of his frozen clothes, as well from the stress of knowing he would die if she hadn’t done what she did now to warm him up.

There was no turning back from what she had done, and she would continue until he was fine, then face the aftermath later. Her brother was gone, and no one would scold or make her feel bad for doing this. At least she would live the rest of her life knowing she had ruined her reputation to save the man she loved. He meant more to her than her modesty, and she would give anything to save him.

He finally relaxed beneath her, the bout of shivering subsiding. He was breathing hard now. He moved restlessly, shifting his legs, struggling with the cloth away from his head like he was in discomfort.

The cloth seemed to annoy him, so she didn’t replace it. Instead, she folded it and lifted his head to slide the cloth underneath, giving him more padding between his head and the hard floor, and then she began to slowly rub his hair to calm him down.

At first, he had been too cold, and the situation too urgent for her to notice, but for some moment now she had been growing more aware of the sensations produced by his naked body against hers. He was a well-built man, no doubt, he was with how much she had noticed and watched him suffer in the palace. She had seen days he would be punished with Lucian by her brother, and they would be tied up on a post for a whole day after getting whipped.

There were also days she watched him take punishment for the second prince alone, and days he would remain outside event halls because he wasn’t ranked high enough to attend royal events with the others. He would crouch outside, waiting for the prince, alone and bored. He had done that since they were young lads, and she had noticed it because she’d always had her eyes on him.

Thalia had always felt sorry for him and wished she could do something to stop her brother whenever he punished him. And now that she lay on him, she felt the scars on his torso against hers. She was somewhat shocked when she felt her nipples tingle from the rough edges of his scars.

Feeling weird in her body, Thalia knew it was time she got up and dressed. She pushed gently against him, trying to rise, but he groaned and tightened his arms around her, shivering again, so she let herself relax back against him.

The shaking wasn’t as violent this time. He swallowed and licked his lips, and his eyes flicked open again, just for a second. Then he seemed to doze, and because he was warm now, Thalia wasn’t alarmed. Her own body quivered from exhaustion. She closed her eyes too, resting for just a minute.

Time drifted. Half asleep, warm, boneless from fatigue, she didn’t know if a minute had passed, or an hour as she slept on him. His hand moved down to her bottom, curving over one rounded cheek. He shifted beneath her sleeping form, muscled legs moving, sliding between her thighs. His engorged manhood prodded at her exposed opening.

It happened so fast that before Thalia could realize what was happening, he was inside her before she was fully awake. Her eyes flew open when he rolled, pinning her beneath him on the blanket, mounting her, squeezing his erection into her tight entrance and drove into her with a strong thrust that made her cry out and dug her fingers into his arms.

She couldn’t believe what was happening. She wasn’t so naive not to know this part that happened between a man and woman, but she had not expected him to suddenly do this to her. At first, it hurt, stretching her around his thick shaft, but it slowly began to feel good before she could push at him to stop or cry out.

Disoriented and unbelievably wanting him, she arched her hips and felt him prod deeply, nudging her cervix. She cried out, gasping, her neck arching back as foreign sensation rocketed through her nerve endings.

When she gasped out his name, he suddenly stopped, mid-thrust, his head and mind finally clearing.

At first, Zane couldn’t believe what he was doing or how it had led to this. He’d thought he was dreaming and a warm naked woman laying atop him could only be a dream. He stared at her dazedly now, her face barely coming into focus in his hazy vision. It was her!

He had acted on instinct when he felt her flesh against his, his body had been aroused by her closeness, by the naked intimacy that had been necessary to save his life. He had been aware of only being warm and alive, and of her bare body in his arms.

He was about to roll off the warm body, still half-dazed and somewhat finding it hard to believe if this was reality or a dream, when she reached out and cried out, "Don’t stop... please...I want it." She sounded breathless and was now arching against him. That was his last restraint. If this was a dream, he didn’t see why he should deprive the woman of what she wanted when he also wanted that too.

But then, had Zane been in his right mind and known that this wasn’t a dream, he knew nothing she would have said would make him continue what he had started, nothing she would say.

But he was still in that state of mindless arousal, not quite knowing what was reality or a dream. All he knew was that the woman his heart had secretly longed for was beneath him and was pleading for him to make love to her when that was exactly what his mind and body wanted.

There was no skill or gentleness. He simply continued thrusting, his heavy weight holding her down, and she instinctively wound her arms and legs around him and met his thrust with mindless subconscious ones of her own. In the mellow light of the lamps, she saw his face, his eyes opened now, a bit dazed.

She’d never known anything as good as this, and she had never felt more female, never been so acutely aware of her own body, or of the hard masculinity of a man’s. She felt every inch of his smooth, hard shaft as he rocked back and forth inside her, felt the excited, welcoming cling of her inner flesh as each stroke took her closer to something so wonderful she frowned in disbelief. She was unbelievably hot, her skin scorching, trembling pleasure lingering just out of reach.

She instinctively grabbed his buttocks, holding him tight and grinding herself as deeply onto him as her body could take, crying out as the already intense pleasure became even more so. He gave a hoarse cry and convulsed, bucking, hips pumping, spurting his hot seed into her, and Thalia dissolved on an agonizing pulse of sensation.

He sank down on her, trembling in every muscle, his heart pounding violently, his breathing hard and fast. As shaken and dazed as he, she put her arms around him and held him close to her naked body, tears sliding down the side of her eyes as she knew she’d never forget this experience.

Unbelievably, they fell back to sleep again. Wrung out, emptied, hollowed, she felt the darkness descending on her, and she could do nothing to resist or fight it. He was heavy and limp on top of her and was still nestled inside her, already asleep.

She managed to touch his cheek, stroke his hair back from his forehead, and then surrendered to the overwhelming need to rest. She would worry about the aftermath of whatever had happened now after she could think.

The snap of something woke Thalia up. She stirred, wincing as her muscles protested the hard floor beneath her, the heavy body weighing her down. Confused, at first she thought she was dreaming. This couldn’t be real, she couldn’t be lying naked on the floor with Zane, who was also completely naked.

The howling wind outside the tent made everything come back to her in clarity, and she stiffened. And just as abruptly, she realized he was also awake. He was lying very still, but every muscle was tense, and the part of him that was nestled inside her was growing thicker and longer by the second.

When he didn’t move to get up or do anything, she carefully and gently touched his back, smoothing her palm up and down his spine. "I... I am awake," she murmured.

He lifted his head abruptly, their eyes met. Thalia flushed to the root of her head. What should she say to him when she still lay naked under him and his part was firmly lodged inside her?

Looking dazed and somewhat confused, he trailed one finger across her lips, then lightly stroked her hot cheek. "You are not in my dream, are you?" He whispered in disbelief as if he couldn’t believe everything was real.

When she didn’t reply and only stared at him, Zane believed it must be a dream. If it were real, the princess would have pushed him away and called him out for what he had done to her. She would never have been naked with him. This wasn’t real, and to prove it, he leaned down and kissed her, a kiss gentle and searching as if nothing had passed between them, as if he wasn’t still inside her. If it were real, she would protest him, as a princess would never do this with a man she was not married to.

Zane kissed and touched her breasts until she was arching against him again. He licked her nipples and kissed her to his heart’s content, believing she wasn’t real and was only in his imagination.

Thalia thought she would die from wanting him before he started moving inside her again. This time, when everything had ended, Zane laid limp on her again, and when nothing seemed to change and he didn’t wake up from this beautiful dream, he realized at the same time he felt her touching him that she wasn’t a dream, she was real. He hurriedly pulled out of her and rolled to his side to gaze at her in surprised disbelief.

"My God!" He exclaimed as he moved away from her and went to the far end of the tent as she sat up, looking at him with a heated, embarrassed face.

Zane was shaking, not from the cold, but from the realization of what he had done. When she parted her lips to speak, Zane stumbled up from his sitting position and staggered out of her tent as if to run away from everything.

He didn’t even bother to dress as he blindly made his way back to the other tent through the night. It was when he got to his tent that he finally began to hit himself hard on the face until he tasted blood in his mouth.

He was disgusted with himself and ashamed of what he had done. He had taken advantage of an innocent girl who he was trusted to get back home unharmed. Lucian had been worried that she would be with the minister’s child by now, but now Zane knew she had never been touched by that old man because the blood of her maidenhead was still smeared around his hardened shaft like a warrior’s sword coated with blood.

The sight of it made bile rise to the back of his throat. He was so disgusted with himself he wished he could cease to exist. What would she think of him now? What if she told her brother? She must hate him so much, as much as he hated himself. Should he go and tell her he didn’t mean it and that he had just acted on instinct? Should he go and tell her how sorry he was for taking advantage of her when all she did was help him?

Zane was contemplating going back to her when he heard the voices of the soldiers who had left since morning to look for the princess and were just back. Hurriedly, he put on any cloth he could find to go and meet them before they would decide to open the princess’s tent to check if she was back. He couldn’t let them see her the way he had left her.