NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Chapter 166: Take Your Time

Misha grabbed the collar of his dress, pulling him down for another bruising kiss.

Kane let her take the lead this time, entirely content to follow her rhythm.

He kept his movements slow and deliberate, teasing her with agonizingly gentle touches that had her chasing his hands.

Every time she tried to escalate the pace, Kane smoothly redirected her, keeping her hovering right on the edge of unbearable tension.

He whispered filthy, descriptive promises against her skin.

"Once that heart of yours is fully healed," Kane murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone.

"I am going to lock these bedroom doors and keep you trapped in this bed for three days."

"Ah... Kane..."

"No council meetings. No ledgers. No magic. Just me, you, and endless time."

"Mmm... three days... yes..."

"I am going to take my favorite silk sash and tie your wrists directly to that headboard. You will not be able to move a single inch unless I allow it."

"Oh... please..."

"You like the sound of that?" Kane dragged his teeth gently over her pulse point, feeling it race frantically against his lips.

"Being completely helpless under me? Having to beg for every single touch?"

"Ah! Yes... Kane, yes..."

"I am going to start right here," Kane whispered, his breath fanning across her shivering skin.

"And I am going to use my mouth to map out every single inch of you. Slowly. I will take hours just tasting you."

"Oh, gods... Kane... ah... please..."

"I am going to make you so sensitive that just breathing on you will make you shake. You will forget your own name."

"Mmm... yes..."

"You will only know my name. Because you will be screaming it until your throat is completely raw."

"Make me... ah! Kane, make me..."

"I am going to stretch you out, Misha. I am going to take you so deep and so hard that you will not be able to formulate a single coherent thought."

"Ahhh... please! Now... Kane, I want it now..."

"Not yet," Kane murmured, soothing her with a gentle stroke along her spine.

"Patience, wife."

"I have no patience left."

"Then we will just have to build some."

"It feels like torture."

"The best kind."

Kane silenced her next protest with his lips, satisfied with his current strategy.

The rest of the morning slipped away in a blur of hushed whispers, tangled limbs, and breathless negotiations.

Kane kept his promise, refusing to push her past her limits, but ensuring she felt every single second of his undivided attention.

The Elven Queen could wait a few more hours to receive her surrender terms.

Right now, the only surrender Kane cared about was happening perfectly within the walls of his own bedroom.

Moving casually off the edge of the mattress, Kane stretched his arms overhead before reaching down to scoop Misha’s discarded morning gown from the rugs.

Tossing the silken garment onto her lap, he offered a satisfied smirk.

"Time to rebuild an empire, wife."

"Give me five more minutes," Misha groaned softly, pulling the tangled sheets up to her chin.

"Being tormented by a warlord is exhausting work. My legs feel entirely like jelly."

"I barely even started," Kane chuckled, pulling his own tunic over his head and adjusting the collar.

"Imagine how you will feel after those three days I promised."

A blush colored her cheeks as she sat up, slipping the gown over her shoulders.

Misha reached for a silver comb resting on the bedside table, dragging it through her disheveled hair with a frustrated sigh. Snags and knots refused to yield to her efforts.

She looked like she just survived a hurricane, Kane noted fondly, stepping closer to take the comb right out of her hand.

A very beautiful hurricane.

"Turn around," Kane instructed softly, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress behind her.

Misha shifted willingly, resting her back against his chest.

Kane gathered the long, silver strands into his hands, working the comb through the knots with surprising care.

For a man who spent all this time swinging broadswords and breaking siege lines, his touch remained remarkably gentle.

"You have a hidden talent," Misha murmured, leaning into his warmth.

"Who taught the Warlord of Menual how to braid hair?"

"Survival instinct," Kane replied easily, dividing the strands to weave a simple, elegant braid.

"If I pull too hard, you will hex me into a toad. I value my current form."

"A very smart deduction." Misha tilted her head, allowing him better access.

"You would make a terrible toad anyway. Too arrogant."

Tying the braid off with a small ribbon, Kane leaned down to press a quick kiss behind her pointed ear.

"Done. You look presentable enough for the public."

"Presentable," Misha scoffed playfully, standing up and smoothing her gown.

"I look radiant. You are just too stubborn to admit it."

"Radiant," Kane corrected, offering his arm.

"Shall we go see if our vanguard managed to burn the city down while we were distracted?"

Taking his arm, Misha walked alongside him out of the bedchambers.

Stepping into the bustling corridors, they navigated the stone steps leading back down toward the main courtyard.

Guards bowed respectfully as they passed, though a few definitely shared knowing glances.

Pushing the doors open, the crisp midday air greeted them. Training dummies lay splintered across the training ring.

Sira sat cross-legged on a supply crate, tossing a silver coin into the air and catching it repeatedly.

Thora leaned against the weapon racks, sharpening her broadsword with a whetstone. Firlia stood nearby, verifying a merchant ledger with a passing trader.

"Look who finally decided to join the war effort," Sira called out, catching her coin and pointing it directly at them.

"We were about to send a search party. Or at least slide some water under the door."

Thora did not even look up from her blade.

"I told you they were busy conducting strategic maneuvers. Warlord business."

"Very funny," Kane shot back, descending the final few steps into the yard.

"I hope you all used this time productively. I do not want to pay you for standing around gossiping like village merchants."