“Fancy a dip?” he asks with a wicked grin.
“Can we?”
“We’re alone; I don’t see why not.” He laughs, already unbuckling his chest leathers, which thud to the soil. Trousers and boots follow in quick succession, and before I can even start undressing, he’s wading into the pond, his glorious body slowly disappearing below the surface.
“Don’t make me bathe alone, darling,” he says, teasing. “You have far too many clothes on for my liking.”
I undress quickly, a faded voice in my head reminding me that this is wrong, that these feelings for him are wrong. But it’s drowned out by my roaring desire to be close to him, to slip under that cool water, to imagine our bodies suspended in that watery void, entwined.
I dunk my head under the surface. The water caresses my naked body, swirling eddies massaging the aches and pains from the last few days, my muscles loosening, tension melting away.
When I reach him, his hands come up to my face and he pulls me close. His mouth crashes against mine, a low soundrumbling from his chest that vibrates through me. His tongue is pushing past my teeth, demanding entry. I open for him, and he plunges deep, his tongue stroking mine with relentless intensity. My arms wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as I pull him closer, until there’s no space between us, legs tangling together.
Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly, spreading outward in waves that make me gasp against his mouth. A pulse pounds between my legs, each throb more insistent than the last, building until I can barely think. Everything narrows to the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against mine, the desperate need to get closer still.
In that moment, I am his.
I reach down and feel his erection, so hard and thick as I grab it; I can feel his veins under my grasp, tight and throbbing.
“That feels so fucking good, darling,” he groans as I grip him firmly and start moving my hand up, up, up.
He shudders around me as I reach the head, palming him before starting back down that glorious length.
I feel my insides clench, and when his hand dips below the surface and comes up to explore my heat, dancing his fingers across my quivering lips, thumbing my throbbing clit, I scream out with pleasure.
My need for him in that moment is acute and all-consuming—to feel him inside me is everything. Every part of me aches for him. The longing runs so deep it’s almost painful, a constant pull I can’t ignore no matter how hard I try to deny it.
I guide him now, pushing his head against my lips, parting them deliciously, and I reach back to grab his tight rear with my hand, my grip firm, ready to pull his hips flush to me.
“No, Alaya,” he cries, pushing me away. His jaw clenches, eyes squeezing shut, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “You’renot ready. Until you think only ofme, we can’t. I will not break you like this.”
“Is this an Equitae thing?”
He hisses through clenched teeth and walks towards the bank. As he emerges, that beautiful cock is revealed in all its splendid glory. He really is a sight to behold.
“Those are my rules, Alaya—the way I live my life. I need you to want me, all of you. And whilehe’sstill in your heart, you can’t be broken.”
Tears well in my eyes at his reminder of Kiernan, and I almost shatter right here in the pond, almost sink below the surface, never to arise again. I want to give myself to its depths and weep with guilt—guilt that claws at my chest like a living thing, threatening to pull me under.
Can a heart hold enough love for more?
The question haunts me, because what I feel for Domanikk is distinct and separate—it exists in its own space within my heart, a different kind of connection I can’t explain and shouldn’t want. But I do want it. I wanthim, with an intensity that terrifies me, that makes me feel like I’m betraying everything I should hold sacred.
And he just pushed me away.
The rejection burns fresh and raw, salt in a wound I didn’t know I had. He looked at me like I was a mistake, like whatever sparked between us was something to be extinguished rather than explored.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe this ache in my chest is wrong, shameful, something I should bury deep where no one—not even I—can find it.
But it won’t stay buried. It rises up despite my best efforts, despite knowing I shouldn’t feel this way, despite the guilt that threatens to drown me more surely than these pond waters ever could.
Domanikk stares at me from the bank, his gaze tracking the tears that slip down my cheeks, the way my lips tremble, how my hands shake beneath the water’s surface. His gaze is as hard as his cock.
I swipe over my face, take a steadying breath and exit the pond, knowing the time is approaching when I’ll have to answer that question, to delve into that locked area of my heart, and try to arrange all the pieces into truth.
When I reach him, I stand up on my toes and kiss his cheek.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I whisper, then start to get dressed, my clothes clinging to my damp skin.
