Something flashed in her eyes then, a glimpse of pain so raw and deep it startled me. Soul-deep wounds that had neverproperly healed. She blinked rapidly, the vulnerability vanishing faster than most could track.
But I wasn't most. I saw everything about her, every mask, every defense, every hidden desire.
"I don't know what you mean," she said brightly, a hand rising to fiddle with her hair in distraction. "I love pleasure. I had three cupcakes yesterday. Very pleasurable."
My chest ached with an unfamiliar pull, not the usual hunger for conquest, but something more complex. A need to soothe the hurt I'd glimpsed, to shelter rather than expose. I hadn't felt such tenderness in centuries, if ever. It should have alarmed me. Instead, it sharpened my focus, strengthened my resolve.
"Cupcakes," I echoed, letting my claw trace the delicate line of her jaw. "That's not the pleasure I'm referring to, and you know it."
The greenhouse plants rustled around us, responding to rising tension, to the scent of arousal that now perfumed the humid air. A black-petaled flower unfurled above her head, its center glowing with purple light that cast ethereal shadows across her upturned face.
"You wear these pretty dresses," I continued, my other hand now finding her waist, feeling the slight jump of muscles beneath the fabric. "Smile these perfect smiles. Give every creature that walks through that door exactly what they need. But what do you need, Simone?"
Her lips parted, perhaps to deliver another deflection, but I pressed a claw gently against them. "Don't lie to me again. I can smell dishonesty."
She swallowed hard, the motion visible in her throat where my marks still lingered beneath her high collar. "I need..." she began, then faltered.
I waited, giving her time to collect her thoughts.
"I need to not lose myself," she finally whispered, the words so quiet they barely disturbed the air between us. "I've lost everything else. If I let go completely, there might be nothing left of me."
I understood then, her resistance wasn't merely stubbornness or denial. It was fear. Fear that surrender meant obliteration. Little did she know that I had no interest in destroying her. Only in breaking her open enough to help her rebuild, stronger than before.
"Oh, little star," I murmured. "You have no idea how much of you there is to discover."
I captured her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head against the warm glass. Her pulse fluttered beneath my grip like a trapped bird, rapid and delicate. With a thought, barely more than a directed desire, I commanded the surrounding vines to my will. They responded instantly, slithering across the glass to wrap around her wrists, securing her in a living bondage that left my hands free to explore.
"What are you—" she gasped, eyes widening as the plants tightened their grip without my touch. She tugged experimentally, finding herself truly secured.
"Magic," I explained simply, enjoying the mixture of alarm and arousal that crossed her face. "The natural world recognizes what I am. What we are together."
The vines pulsed slightly against her skin, responding to her quickened heartbeat as if they shared a circulatory system. Black petals unfurled overhead, releasing a subtle scent like night-blooming flowers mixed with warm spices. The greenhouse seemed to darken around us, the glass walls fogging with condensation that isolated us in our own private world.
I shifted my weight, bringing one leg forward to press between her thighs. Even through the fabric of her dress and whatevermodest undergarments she wore beneath, I could feel the heat of her, the slight dampness that confirmed what her words denied.
"Tell me to stop," I challenged, voice low and rough. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll release you immediately."
Her eyes met mine, defiant despite her compromised position. "I should tell you to stop."
"But you won't," I countered, rolling my thigh upward slowly, drawing a choked gasp from her lips. "Because this is exactly where you want to be."
My claws traced down her sides, I slid my hands beneath the hem of her dress, ascending slowly up bare thighs until I encountered the edge of silken panties.
"Someone could walk in," she whispered, glancing nervously toward the vine-draped doorway.
I chuckled, the sound rumbling from my chest. "The plants won't let them. Right now, this space belongs only to us." My claw hooked beneath the edge of her underwear, pulling the fabric aside. "Besides, the possibility of discovery excites you. I can smell it."
She turned her face away. "That's not true."
"Lie," I whispered directly into her ear, mimicking her pulse with a gentle rhythm against her center. Not entering, just teasing the slick entrance with the pad of my finger. "You like being caught, don't you? Like knowing I tracked you down, cornered you, saw through every defense." Each phrase was punctuated with firmer pressure, drawing small, strangled sounds from her throat.
"Please," she gasped, hips jerking forward to seek more contact.
"Please what?" I withdrew slightly, enjoying her frustrated whimper. "Use your words, Simone. Tell me what you need."
Her thighs trembled as she fought against the urge to simply grind against me for relief. Pride warred with desire on her face,those expressive eyes clouded with need she still couldn't fully acknowledge.
"Touch me," she finally managed, the words barely audible.
