I stare at Baezal and consider my next move.He’s been nothing but kind to me, and now that he's offered to help me, I want to thank him in a way that shows him just how grateful I am.However, more than that, I want to be free—to experience the pleasures I’ve read about for years.Ultimately, I want the chance to choose someone of my own volition.
And I’m choosing Baezal.
Carefully, I lower his hand back to the table.Sadness tinges his gaze, and I have to swallow my giggle.He will not be bereft of my touch too much longer.Clutching my wine goblet, I drink down the remaining liquid so as not to lose my nerve.
He may very well reject me—this is all a bit sudden, I can admit that.Yet, it feels right.My heart has chosen him—my savior and protector.He is who I want to be with for my first time.I’ve felt more at the brush of his hand than I ever have with another.
My soul is leading me towards him, and I’d be a fool to ignore its urging.
I lick my lower lip and allow my hair to slip over one shoulder.Trailing my finger along the table, I capture his blue gaze once more.
“Baezel,” I sigh softly, nearly purring at his shiver.“I must confess something to you.Won’t you hear it?”
“Yes.”
His growl echoes around the room, and the skin between my thighs grows even damper.The pulsing ache has returned with a frenzy, demanding to be satisfied.
“The other Sisters believed me cursed—said I had the soul of a demon.”
Baezal rears back, eyes large in his gray face.
“Impossible.”
A small smile curves my lips.
“Normally, I would agree with you, but I fear they may have been right.You see, there’s always been this wickedness inside of me.”My fingers skim up the side of his palms, his scales rising to meet my wandering hand.“I was always getting in trouble with the Elder Sisters—reprimanded for my desires.Father Knoll said intense prayer was my only chance at salvation, though it did very little to stop my hedonist thoughts.”
My fingers trail up his forearm, nails biting into the hard, rigid of muscle.Baezal’s powerful chest rises and falls.Full, gray lips part to reveal the fangs lurking inside his mouth.What would his bite feel like?I will not be satisfied until I discover it.
“At first, my wickedness blossomed innocently.Sneaking off during prayer time or staying up past curfew.Then there were the books.The Elder Sisters would’ve killed me had they discovered what I was consuming.Do you want to know what was written on these sinful pages?”
Baezal swallows, his nod is swift as my fingers draw swirls along his scales.
“They were tales of battles—heroes earning glory.However, they were mostly tales of love—beddings of fair maidens by their handsome knights under the pale moonlight.Those books inflamed what lay dormant within me.A wantonness the True Faith was determined to see snuffed out.”
Licking my lips, I watch Baezal’s claws embed themselves in the table.Splinters rise around his strong fingers, but he pays them no mind.
“My wicked soul made me seek out local boys and share kisses with them in stolen moments.”
My heart races as heat spreads along my body.I hardly recognize my own voice.This is the real me—the one who is open about her wants.A seductress that’s been stifled for far too long.
Lifting my hand not touching Baezal, I reach for the sleeve of my gown.
“It made me touch myself beneath the covers at night—swallowing down my moans as I imagined myself being ravaged just like the women I had read about.”
Yanking down the sleeve of my gown, the swells of my breasts come into view.The movement nearly bears them entirely.My nipples are barely concealed by the lace neckline.
Rising on shaking knees, I pull my hand from him and pad slowly along the floor.
“Do you understand now, Baezal?If I am truly to break free of the True Faith, then I must give myself to someone.To experience the one thing I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.”
Baezal's eyes are wholly black as I approach him in the chair.Even seated, we are eye level with each other.The skirt of my gown brushes his splayed thighs.I bite my lip to keep from grinning at the hardness tenting the front of his pants.My earlier doubts are elevated—he wants me just as much.
He hands curl onto his knees—in an effort to keep from grabbing me, I hope.
“Willow, you—you don’t have to give yourself to me.I will help you regardless.”
Disappointment threatens to weaken my resolve.If my books have taught me anything, it’s that glory only belongs to the brave.
