If I had any sense, I would have walked away from her then, moved to another cabin, and avoided her.
I stayed.
Gods help me, I stayed.
Daphne
If you die, I die too
Was it the dance, the wine—or the way he held me like I was something too precious to break?
We left the dining hall laughing until my chest ached.
He stopped—abruptly, as if struck by something unseen. Close enough that his breath stirred the hair on my forehead. His gaze swept over me, slow and searching, like he was seeing me for the first time.
My back met the wall, anticipation tickling my spine. No words passed between us, but the air pulsed with what we both knew. I was already begging for it—without a sound.
“Daphne…” he breathed. The reverence in his voice cracked something open inside me.
My pulse thumped in my throat, my knees about to give in. His warmth, his scent, wrapped around me like a promise that something life-changing was coming. He put his hands on the wall on both sides of my head, framing me, and I closed my eyes, surrendering to that feeling of being surrounded by him.
He leaned in, slowly brushing his lips against mine. It was a gentle, unspoken question.
“Emrys, did you lose your mind?” I whispered.
“I did, Daphne,” he murmured, deepening the kiss. It was different from our first one—this one was less urgent. As if he was taking his time to explore me, to breathe me in. As if a final decision had been made, and he surrendered. The ship spun around me, and everything—the undyne, the monsters, the uncertain future—sank to the bottom of the sea. It was only him, his closeness, the way his hands held my waist, the gentle pressure of his mouth, that mattered.
He pulled back, and I sucked in a breath, my whole body aching for more.
“Forgive me,” he said, eyes wild and dangerous.
“You scoundrel,” I whispered, threading my fingers through his soft hair. “Forgive you? Never. Not after you showed me what it could feel like.”
The corner of his mouth curved in a crooked smile, and I ached to trace it with my tongue.
I rose onto my toes and kissed him again. Entangled and breathless, passing by some shocked passengers, we made it to our room.
“Daphne,” he rasped, voice heavy with arousal, “last chance to come back to your senses.”
To stop this? Not a chance.
This was the most freeing thing I’d ever done. Instead of answering, I playfully pushed him into the velvet armchair facing the bed.
“Or what?” I asked, unbuttoning my dress.
The answer was a low, warning growl. His face hid in the shadows, but I could see his eyes glow like those of a nocturnal predator.
My dress pooled at my bare feet. I stood before him, wearing only a transparent petticoat, the warmth of the fireplace tingling my skin. The weight of his gaze over my body sent jolts of warmth to my core. Sweet tension rippled over my breasts and throbbed between my legs. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to crave me the way I craved his touch. Removing the pins from my hair, I let it fall down my back.
“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he said.
I shrugged, the lacy strap of my petticoat slipping and revealing a shoulder and most of my left breast down to my hard nipple. “I hate underwear. And corsets.” His fingers clenched around the chair’s armrests, knuckles white. “Daphne. This is a very dangerous game you’re playing.”
I stepped closer. “Who says it’s a game?” Another step. I knew very well that the soft light of the standing lamp revealed every curve of my body beneath the translucent fabric, every detail from the color of my nipples to what was between my legs.
“You’d better be careful, little thief,” he warned, shifting in his seat, “because we’re close to a point of no return.” His wide chest was heaving under the crisp white shirt, and I licked my lip when I saw the hard outline of his cock straining the fabric of his pants.
“Oh.” I raised a brow in mock confusion and took another step toward him. “I thought someone who lived for millennia would have a bit more self-control.”
