I Got Married to a Yandere Queen

The air in the chamber grew thick and stifling as Ashtoria gazed down at Riven with glittering eyes. Her memory flashed back to when she had interrogated Brigitta about how to make a man fall in love. The "lesson" Brigitta had taught her—that to claim someone's heart, she needed to undress him and kiss every inch of his body.

She had never tried it before, waiting for the right moment. But when she had learned of Riven's disappearance, when that crushing pain had seized her chest—she realized she couldn't waste another second.

From the very first time they had met until now, Riven had never once said, "I love you."

Tonight, she would make sure he did.

And she wouldn't let him leave this room until those words left his lips.

"Now is the time," Ashtoria thought, her innocent enthusiasm laced with something far more dangerous.

RRRIP!

With one swift motion, her free hand tore through Riven's shirt, rending the fabric apart until his upper body lay completely exposed. Pale skin, marred by scars and taut with muscle, glistened faintly in the dim light. Her other hand remained pressed against his mouth, fingers possessive against his tongue, silencing him.

Ashtoria observed with wide, fascinated eyes—like a scientist discovering a new phenomenon.

Brigitta was right.

He's reacting.

Her free hand trailed down his bare chest, tracing the contours of tense muscle that twitched beneath her touch. Every fingertip left a searing trail, as though his skin burned beneath her cold caress.

She studied his face—the way his brows furrowed in confusion, the flush creeping across his cheeks, the unspoken tension in his jaw. Without hesitation, her thin lips pressed against his sweat-dampened forehead.

First, the forehead...

Her mouth moved downward with deliberate slowness, leaving a glistening trail in its wake.

Then the ear...

When her cold tongue slipped inside his ear, Riven's entire body jerked violently. The chains rattled as his muscles locked like overstrung wire, every tendon standing in sharp relief.

Something strange pressed against her thigh—a firm, insistent pulse.

Her eyes gleamed with predatory curiosity as she realized just how strongly his body responded to her.

This... is interesting.

Her fingers continued their exploration, mapping every tremor, every hitch of his breath, every involuntary twitch of his flesh. A rare flicker of satisfaction crossed her usually impassive face.

Brigitta truly knew what she was talking about.

Ashtoria didn't understand why Riven's body was reacting this way. She couldn't comprehend the meaning of the increasingly intense throbbing between them. But one thing she knew—

Riven looked breathtaking like this.

Helpless.

Only for her.

And it made something in her chest beat to a strange rhythm.

.

Riven couldn't breathe.

His blank eyes stared at the ceiling, wide with profound confusion. What had happened to Ashtoria? His mind whirled wildly trying to process this terrifying transformation—from an innocent girl untouched by worldly desires to this sensual creature now sitting atop him with deadly confidence.

Ashtoria's fingers remained buried deep in his mouth, pressing against his tongue with perfect pressure that only allowed him to make hoarse sounds. Each breath through his nose felt hot and heavy, condensing in the cold air of the room filled with the mingling scents of sweat and deadly roses.

Who...dared teach her things like this?

That thought burned deeper than any of Ashtoria's touches. The image of some stranger whispering this forbidden knowledge into the virgin queen's ears made his blood boil. His hands, locked in iron restraints, clenched tightly, veins in his arms standing out like cables about to snap.

But then—

Ah.

Ashtoria's tongue traced the curve of his ear, and all questions dissolved into a sea of sensation. Riven writhed, the chains clanking as his body arched off the bed. His skin burned, yet every brush of her cold lips down his neck sent shivers through him—ticklish, electric, unbearably intense.

He had never been able to handle that kind of touch.

Not from the beginning.

That maddening mix of heat and teasing sensation...

This...

...was torture...

So why did it feel so good?

Ashtoria's fingers remained possessively deep in his mouth while her cold lips moved down from his ear—along his cheek, chin, then to his pounding neck. Each touch left fiery marks on Riven's skin, burning deeper than any wound he'd ever experienced.

He felt Ashtoria's tongue tracing the tendon line on his neck, moving slowly like a snake tasting its prey. Every uncontrolled twitch of his body only excited the woman atop him more—Riven could tell from how Ashtoria's breathing grew heavier, from how the thighs pinning him down tightened their grip.

This was wrong.

This was so wrong.

How had he ended up in such a pathetic state?

Yet his body reacted beyond his control.

When Ashtoria's tongue swept over the old scar on his chest—the mark from a bear's claws that had nearly taken his life—Riven gently bit the fingers in his mouth while licking them, his muscles hardening like heated steel. But Ashtoria only made a small sound, before continuing her exploration with keen interest.

And then—

Ah.

Her lips closed around one of Riven's

nipples.

"-!!!"

Riven trembled, unable to withstand the overwhelming ticklish sensation spreading through his body. It felt as if lightning had struck his chest, electric currents shooting straight to the most sensitive part between his thighs. A deep groan escaped him, rough and strangled beneath the grip of Ashtoria's fingers.

Madness.

This was absolute madness.

Ashtoria—the feared Queen, the woman whose power could level entire cities—now knelt over him, innocently exploring his body like a child discovering a new toy.

And the most torturous part?

She seemed completely unaware of what she was doing.

Unaware of how each movement pushed Riven closer to the edge of sanity. Unaware that her own short breaths only fanned the flames of his uncontrollable desire.

Ashtoria lifted her face, her ruby-red eyes gleaming as she took in Riven's expression—flushed cheeks, sweat dripping at his temples, lips parted in suppressed moans.

Every breath Riven took felt like tiny daggers stabbing his lungs. Ashtoria's fingers pressing deep into his mouth not only pinned his tongue but rubbed against his palate in slow circles that made his saliva flow uncontrollably. The clear liquid dripped down his chin, trickling onto his neck already marked with red kisses.

With a wet pop, Ashtoria pulled her tongue away from Riven's nipple, leaving the skin glistening under the flickering glow of the oil lamp. Her pale pink lips sparkled with their mingled saliva, the sight both maddening and intimate.

This was wrong.

It should've been me.

I should've been the one doing all that. I should've been the one on top, not like this. I should've been the one tying her down beneath me.

If I were free... I'd return every second of this with double the intensity.

Riven's hands remained clenched above his head, veins bulging along his bound arms like taut cables. Sweat trickled down the sharp ridges of his abdomen, following the gleaming paths of old scars as his body trembled beneath the heat of her touch.

When Ashtoria moved to his other nipple—

Riven shut his eyes as his hands trembled, causing the chains binding him to rattle violently. The swollen, dark-red peak disappeared once more into Ashtoria's mouth, drawn in with perfect pressure between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. It felt like live wires connecting directly to his rock-hard groin.

Ashtoria glanced up-her usually cold crimson eyes now glittered with unfamiliar light. Porcelain cheeks flushed, long lashes fluttering slowly as she—

Flick.

The tip of her tongue touched the sensitive nipple.

"—!!"

Stars exploded behind Riven's vision. His outstretched legs trembled uncontrollably, thigh muscles twitching like overworked stallions.

Unconsciously, Riven's tongue moved between Ashtoria's fingers still pressing into his mouth. The taste was salty-sweat mixed with something sweeter, perhaps blood from where her nails had unconsciously scratched his inner cheek.

Ashtoria released a small sound as she felt Riven's tongue move. Her wide eyes held childlike wonder, like discovering some new phenomenon.

But then—

She bit.

Not harshly, but with precise pressure from her sharp canines around Riven's nipple—just enough to make his body suddenly shake with a distorted moan against the fingers in his mouth.

Riven's tear-blurred vision took in Ashtoria now sitting upright atop him, her luxurious black dress rumpled around her slender waist.

Ashtoria's face was devastatingly beautiful. Her lips swollen and glistening, cheeks flushed crimson, usually icy eyes now burning with emotions even she didn't understand.

And under that gaze—

Riven still felt unworthy.

Yet his body.

His body responded wildly.

In ways that twisted guilt and arousal into one intoxicating poison in his veins.

Ashtoria slowly withdrew her hand from Riven's mouth, her glistening fingers catching the light. She examined the moisture coating her digits with curious fascination, then—Her crimson eyes locked with Riven's gaze.

And—

She smiled.

A smile that stopped Riven's heart.

More dangerous than any blade.

A smile that promised so much more.