Her pulse stumbled in her chest, lips tingling from the gentle pull of contact. The faint scrape of his stubble brushed her cheek, and to her surprise, she liked the roughness of it.
He kissed her a third time.
This time he cupped her face, his thumb grazing the hollow of her cheekbone as though memorizing it. She hated how much she wanted to lean into his steadiness. How easy it would be to stop fighting for just a second.
He sucked gently on her lower lip, and something inside her—something long buried beneath duty, silence and fear—broke.
A quiet sound escaped her, just as the one of Alaric's hands slid down her back, his arms pulling her flush against his body. The moment their bodies connected, heat pooled in the juncture of her thighs.
His lips moved more urgently now, tasting, teasing, learning her. His tongue traced the seam of her lips.
She gasped.
That was all he needed.
His tongue slid into her mouth, stroking against hers with slow precision, and her knees buckled. Alaric let out a quiet sound, that she felt vibrating down her spine. He kissed her deeper, hungrier. She could feel him—all of him—pressed against her stomach. The knowledge sent warmth spreading through her limbs, setting her nerves alight.
His arms wrapped around her waist in one sure motion, pulling her tight against him. No room left between. Only sensation.
The kiss deepened until it wasn’t just a kiss—it was surrender. She arched into it, into him, her spine bowing instinctively as her head tilted back. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, holding on as if he were the only solid thing left in a world spinning off its axis.
And then she kissed him back. For once in her carefully ordered life, Evelyne Tresselyn stopped thinking.
Andfelt.
The kiss lost the last of its restraint and unraveled into a rhythm that made her forget every lesson in composure she’d ever been taught. And he kissed her back like a storm with nowhere left to go. Like he was coaxing something out of her, that he already knew was there.
One of his hands gathered the hem of her nightgown slowly until it bunched around her hips. Then his palm slipped beneath it and brushed the bare skin of her thigh.
She clung to him. There was no other word for it. Her hands found the back of his neck, his hair, his shoulder blades—anything that would keep her upright as his touch swept fire across her. The room disappeared. The castle disappeared. The only thing that existed was the slow press of his hand over her body.
His touch slid higher, brushing the side of her breast. Her breath hitched, pleasure and panic collided. She tilted her head back with a gasp, giving him more, and he took it. His mouth was on her neck now. She could hear his breathing—heavy, ragged, right against her ear.
His hand drifted lower, tracing the curve of her waist, then down, igniting heat with every slow inch toward the inside of her thigh.
It wastoo much.
Too much heat. Too much feeling. Her thoughts, already frayed at the edges, gave out entirely. Somewhere in her chest, something slammed shut, or maybe flew open. She couldn’t tell anymore. All she knew was that if this continued, she wouldn’t come back from it whole.
His touch slipped further, with a pressure so light it made her gasp, his hand shifted,finally, beneath her, cupping her with a reverence that undid whatever remained of her composure.
Heat bloomed through her in an exquisite surge, hips tilting instinctively into his palm. Alaric’s mouth found hers again, swallowing her whimpers, as his fingers began to gently move, like he meant to memorize every way she could unravel for him.
Evelyne clung to him even more, one hand buried in his hair, the other pressing to his chest. His name hovered at the back of her throat, but her body betrayed her long before her voice did.
It all crashed over her at once, drowning her. Her body went still, breath faltering mid-kiss.
Her skin felt fevered, her limbs too heavy, her breath ragged in a way that no longer thrilled but unsettled. The pleasure twisted sharp at the edges, tipping into panic. Her body had moved ahead of her heart, and now her mind was scrambling to catch up. She tried to speak, to ask him to wait, but the air caught in her throat instead.
Alaric stilled. Gently he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air. He withdrew his hand from between her thighs and brought it to her cheek, tilting her chin up so she would look at him, but her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown. His thumb brushed over her skin. His gaze searched hers, scanning every inch of her expression, watching, reading.
“Breathe, Evelyne.”
Evelyne blinked.
It was only then that she realized she had forgotten how.
Alaric exhaled slowly. His eyes burned with the embers of restrained desire, but beneath it, she saw something else.
