And I don’t. I can’t. Her body clenches around me, molten and perfect, and I swear the whole fucking crypt tilts. I kiss her through it, swallowing every sound she makes, thrusting her straight into oblivion—her hands, her voice, her heat dragging me with her. Her moan breaks against my lips. My name falls out of her in pieces. I thrust into her one last time—deep, shaking— and the world goes white.
For a few seconds, there’s nothing but the sound of us breathing, ragged, uneven, tangled together like we’re still trying to crawl inside each other’s skin. Her forehead rests against mine. My hand stays wrapped in her skirt. Her legs stay locked around my hips like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I brush my mouth against hers, slow this time. A whisper of a kiss. “Mo ghrá,4” I murmur, voice raw.
Her breath stutters. Her hand slides up my jaw, thumb trembling a little as she wipes away a smear of blood near my cheek. “Mo chroí,5” she whispers back.
Jesus Christ.I feel that. Everywhere. We stay like that for one more stolen moment—her lips soft, her body warm, her heartbeat fluttering against my chest like I’m the only safe place she has left. But the world above us hasn’t paused. And neither can we.
A sharp echo booms through the stone—Rouge’s signal. Three knocks. Then silence. It’s time. We’re out of minutes. I pull back, tucking myself in, helping her adjust her dress, smoothing fabric over her hips with hands that still shake from everything I just took from her. Everything she just gave me.
She brushes a hand through her hair, breath still uneven, cheeks flushed in a way that makes me want to drag her back onto that bench and ruin her again. But survival first. Desire later.Barely.
She nods toward the far wall. “You still have the key?”
I lift the chain from beneath my shirt—thin, tarnished, holding the old brass key we used as kids. “It never leaves me.”
Her lips twitch—soft, aching nostalgia. “We used to run through that tunnel like we owned the whole bloody world.”
I unlock the hidden panel behind the piano, stone shifting with a grinding sigh. Cold air rushes out, smelling of earth and oldmemories. I reach for her hand. She gives it without hesitation. God, I feel that too.
“Stay close,” I tell her, squeezing once.
“Always,” she whispers.
We slip inside. The door shuts behind us with a final, echoing thud. The tunnel is narrow, low-ceilinged, the same one we used to sneak through when we were reckless teenagers—me with bloodied knuckles from a fight, her with music sheets tucked under her arm, both of us convinced we were invincible.
Our footsteps echo ahead, the only sound in the dark. After a minute, faint light appears—the trapdoor into the old stable. My home. Her temporary safe house. I push it open, help her climb out first. The night air hits my face, cold and sharp, smelling like horses and gun oil.
Behind us, the tunnel seals shut. And like that— we’re gone.
1.You’re incredible
2.The sound of my heart
3.You’re ruining me.
4.My love.
5.My heart.
