Chapter 6 Emrys

Emrys’ POV

“... can’t even believe it.” Riven makes some joke about Kaelen’s chick. I don’t hear it. I’m not listening. My mind is on Vesper. The moment I saw her I knew it already. She’s my mate. Since then, my longing for her has only multiplied drastically.

But Roan and Kaelen were right. I couldn’t have her. Not when she was a first year and I was a prince.

I put my arms in my pockets, drawing comfort from the feeling of the soft tip of the paintbrush I’d put in there this morning. The one Kaelen gave to me this morning. The one I saw Vesper take.

I’d acted like I didn’t see her when she slipped the paint brush into her pants. I’d convinced myself it was because I wanted to find out why. But it was probably because my dragon and I were still trying to understand how she could be our mate.

The pull was undeniable. And with the way my thoughts were consumed with her and her warm spicy scent, I doubted I’d be able to stay away from her for long.

As if on cue, I catch sight of her as we walk out of the cafeteria. Her scent fills the air and I hear my dragon whine in my head.

‘Talk to her!’

I walked up to her, listening to Nova’s protests.

“Hey. I heard you found my paint brush,” I say, going along with the story she’d Kaelen gave me this morning.

If I was being honest, it bothered me slightly. Yesterday she’d asked what I’d do if I was outside past curfew and needed to get back to my room without being noticed.

I’d told her about the corridor which was out of use mainly because I’d felt it was a genuine question.

But now, together with the paintbrush incident and what Kaelen told us, I couldn’t deny that she could be up to something.

“Yes. Sorry I didn’t return it to you immediately. I wanted to try painting something with it,” she replied. I tossed and turned the answer in my head, trying to weigh if it could be true. Ultimately, I decided to let it go.

“It’s fine. So? Did you succeed in painting anything?”

She sighed. “Yes. I painted trash.” The laugh escaped me before I could stop it, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d heard her breath hitch.

“How ‘bout I teach you a few techniques? Something to get you started on your painting journey. What do you think?”

Immediately I offered, I regretted it. Not because I didn’t want to teach her – although that was just an excuse to see her – but because I had to pin whatever I was starting to feel somewhere in my head.

And I couldn’t trust myself to do that while she was in my space.

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll meet you at the art room. You can come when you are done with your lunch.”

“Okay, Emrys.”

I join the group again and Riven swoons. “Ouu someone’s in loveeeee.”

“Shut the fuck up, Riven.”

“It’s okay to love,” he teases further

“I’m not in love,” I deny.

“You offered to teach her how to paint. You invited her into the art room. YOUR art room. You never allow anyone in there.”

“So?

“Face it, Emrys.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m not surprised though. She’s so fucking sexy.” I shot him a look that spelt murder. He paid no bid, just continued rambling. “And that sharp mouth of hers makes me want to fill it with my cock. All seven inches of it.”

“Riven. Shut up.” If Kaelen hadn’t already said it, I would have. I guess I wasn’t the only one who’d had enough of Riven.

Riven was the playboy. He’d fuck anything and everything wearing a skirt. And he had a knack for going after girls he felt Kaelen was interested in. Trying to prove some stupid point.

The group moved in silence after and I left to go to the art room and wait for Vesper. As I sat on one of the stools, Riven’s voice drifted into my head.

‘I’m not surprised though. She’s so fucking sexy. And that sharp mouth of hers makes me want to fill it with my cock. All seven inches of it.’

Involuntarily, a picture of Vesper on her knees comes up in my head. Her mouth is full of my cock while her small hands knead my balls.

She chokes on it but continues throating me, tears dripping down her face.

My cock is painfully hard in my pants and I pull it out, freeing it. It’s rock hard, the pink tip leaking with pre cum.

‘Fuck. What the thought of this girl does to me.’

I stroke it once, letting myself imagine she’s the one doing it. Then again. And again. And again. Until I’ve found a rhythm.

I chase my release, my head full with thoughts of Vesper’s small tight cunt gripping my girth. I imagine her reaction at my size, wondering if I’ll fit inside of her.

‘You will of course. She’s made for us,’ Nova says in my head. I groan, feeling my orgasm build closer and closer.

I pump faster, groans escaping me as I bring myself close to the edge.

Vesper enters into my mind again. This time, her back is perfectly arched for me as I drive into her from behind. She whimpers with each thrust, but begs me to go faster.

‘Fuck. Vesper.” I cry out as I come. Long ropes of cum splatter onto the floor. I continue to stroke my still hard girth, drawing out my orgasm.

Soon, my dick softens and I put it back in my pants before heading to the adjoining bathroom.

Just as I finished cleaning up the cum on the floor I heard a knock. I turned. Vesper.

“Hey,” I said. “You are here.”

She nods, then looks at the floor, then at the ball of tissue in my hand.

“Did something pour?”

“Just some paint,” I lied. She nods. “Should we get started?”

“Yeah. So how do I not paint shit?” I laugh.

“Well the first thing I do is to have an inspiration.”

“Inspiration?”

“Yes. It could be something. Or someone. Or an idea or concept. The most important thing is to know something, anything about what you want to paint. And then you go from there.”

“And what if I can’t think of any inspiration?”

“You find it.”

“I see. So what do you think of when you paint?”

“A bunch of things. But lately… you.”