Rejected Luna Queen

Nesta’s POV

Nolan entered my room deep into the night, his presence filling the space as the moonlight cast a gentle glow over us.

I couldn’t believe I had waited for him this whole night, my heart aching with longing and uncertainty.

He moved toward me with a purpose, his eyes locking onto mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch.

He didn’t speak as he reached the bed, his hands gently pulling back the covers. I watched him, my heart pounding in my chest, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through me.

Nolan leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a tender kiss, his touch soft and reassuring.

His hands roamed my body, caressing and exploring with a gentleness that made my skin tingle. He took his time, undressing me slowly, his touch reverent and filled with care.

I shivered under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet cherished in a way I hadn’t expected.

Nolan’s lips trailed down my neck, leaving a path of warmth in their wake.

His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending waves of pleasure through me. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

He took his time, his mouth moving lower, kissing and nipping at my skin, worshipping every inch of me.

When he reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his eyes meeting mine with a question. I nodded, unable to form words, my body trembling with need.

His mouth found my most sensitive spot, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

The pleasure built slowly, each stroke of his tongue pushing me higher, making me forget everything but the sensation of his touch.

When I was on the brink, he moved back up, his body pressing against mine. He entered me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, his movements measured and tender.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel him completely.

“Nolan,” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He moved within me, his pace slow and deliberate, his eyes holding mine. The intensity of his gaze, the way he made love to me with such care, it was overwhelming.

My body responded to his every touch, my mind lost in the sensations he created.

As the pleasure built to a crescendo, I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. When I finally the release was so intense that the tears spilled over, running down my cheeks. Nolan kissed them away, his lips soft and comforting.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

I shook my head, unable to voice the turmoil inside me. He paused, his eyes searching mine, before he kissed me again, his lips gentle and reassuring, his touch grounding me in the present.

In that moment, I realised that maybe it was okay to let my heart be involved, to feel the depth of the connection between us.

Nolan continued to move within me, his pace steady and comforting, his touch filled with love and care.

As the pleasure built once more, I let go of the fear and uncertainty, allowing myself to be present in the moment, to feel everything fully.

When I came again, it was with a sense of acceptance and peace. Nolan held me close, his arms wrapping around me, keeping me safe and grounded.

In his embrace, I found solace and the strength to face whatever lay ahead, even if I couldn’t yet admit it to myself or him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I slept like a baby. Nolan’s arms wrapped around me, holding me close, provided a cocoon of warmth and safety that I hadn’t felt in ages.

Every breath I took was in sync with his, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm against my back. I let myself sink into the sensation, my body relaxing completely as sleep took over.

When I woke up, the soft light of dawn was filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Nolan’s arms were still around me, his body a solid presence behind me.

I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a rare and precious feeling. I snuggled deeper into his embrace, letting the comfort lull me back to sleep, cherishing every second.

The next time I woke, the sun was higher in the sky and I instinctively reached out, finding his side. of the bed empty. My heart sank.

It shouldn’t hurt, I knew that. I shouldn’t expect anything more than what we had, but the empty space beside me felt like a void, a stark reminder of the reality of our situation.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the spot where Nolan had been, trying to push away the ache in my chest. It was foolish to hope for more, to expect him to stay.

I closed my eyes, willing the pain away, but it lingered, a dull, persistent throb.

Tuck.” I muttered to myself, rolling onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. The warmth of the morning an did little to chase away the chill that had settled in my bones.

I sighed, knowing I needed to get up and face the day, but for a few more moments. I allowed myself to lie there, feeling the weight of Nolan’s absence.

I reminded myself that this was what I had agreed to, what I had accepted. But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Eventually, I forced myself to sit up, throwing the covers back and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cool against my feet as I stood, stretching an lingering disappointment.

ying to shake off the

It was time to move on, to put on my mask and face the day, even if it meant burying the hurt deep inside.

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body, washing away the remnants of sleep and the dull ache in my chest.

The water felt good, soothing, but it couldn’t completely chase away the hurt. I took my time, scrubbing my skin and shampooing my hair, trying to focus on the simple, repetitive motions.

After drying off and wrapping myself in a towel, I dressed quickly, my thoughts already drifting to my art room.

I needed the solace of my paints and brushes, the escape they provided. But as I left my room, a sudden impulse made me pause outside Nolan’s door.

I stood there for a moment, pressing my palm against the solid wood, as if I could feel his presence through it. But the door remained closed and silent, and I couldn’t sense him anywhere nearby.

With a heavy heart, I realized he wasn’t there. I didn’t think he was in the palace at all. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned away and made my way to my art room.

The hallway felt unusually quiet, each step echoing in the stillness. As I entered the room, familiar smell of paints and canvas greeted me, a small comfort.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering sadness. This was my sanctuary, my place of solace. I approached my easel and picked up a brush, letting the familiar weight ground me.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

With each stroke, I poured my emotions onto the canvas, seeking release in the chaos of colours and shapes.

But no matter how hard I tried, the ache remained, a constant reminder of what I longed for and couldn’t have. And I ended up painting something I never expected.