A tremor rippled through me. My eyes fluttered as his tongue grazed my skin.
“You,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hummed deep in his throat, the vibration melting beneath my skin.
When his lips finally found mine, it wasn’t with hunger, but with something deeper. It was an ache, a longing buried beneath restraint. His kiss was slow and unhurried, as if he feared that to move too fast would break the spell entirely.
I melted against him, the warmth of his body seeping through the thin fabric of my nightgown.
For the first time, my thoughts ceased their relentless spinning. I didn’t care about his aunt or the constant nagging in the back of my mind.
If madness waited at the end of this night, I would walk to it willingly.
There was only this. His breath, his hands, his lips moving with mine, and the slow, shattering tenderness of two souls reaching for each other in the dark.
“Take your gown off,” he murmured, giving only enough space to watch as I did as he commanded.
The fire cast a molten glow over my bare skin. Instinct had me lifting my arms to hide myself, but he caught my hand, his grip firm, unyielding.
“No,” he said softly, but with an air of command. “Don’t hide from me.”
Shame burned. Desire burned hotter.
He guided my hand downward between my thigh, pressing my fingers into the slicken heat that already pooled there.
“Show me,” he encouraged, voice dark silk. “Show me what you want me to do to you.”
I froze. Heat flooded my cheeks. “I… I don’t know how.”
His lips curved into a knowing,sinful smile. “Then I’ll teach you.”
He knelt before me like a worshipper at an altar, but there was nothing holy in the way he touched me. His hands slid along my thighs, gently, coaxingly, until he parted them and drew a shudder from my lungs.
I breathed deeply, my pulse racing as I remembered the things he had done to me before. My anticipation pulsed like a wave through my body, wanton and wicked.
But instead, Sylum took my hand in his again, leading it back to my center. He didn’t touch me, instead he urged me, showed me how to appease what my body demanded.
When my hesitant fingers moved—guided by his over mine—my breath broke in a soft, startled cry. The world narrowed to the molten pull of desire coiling low in my belly. Shame, and yearning twisted together until I no longer knew where sin ended and heaven began.
My head lolled back.
My fingers moved in slow, dizzying circles. All shame fell away as the tension built, strung so tight that I wanted to cry from the mix of pleasure and pain.
“That’s it,” he murmured, brushing his lips along my thigh. “Give in.”
I rolled my hips, seeking something more. I needed… I didn’t know what I needed…
More.
Sylum’s hand left mine. My fingers froze, disappointment coursing through my veins. He shook his head when I looked at him. “Keep going.”
I did as I was told, mimicking what he had taught me. The delicious ache built once again until I was moaning in equal parts elation and frustration.
He reached for me, holding my hand in place as he moved behind me. In one smooth, effortless motion, he bent me at the waist over his desk.
My heart pounded and when my hand stopped moving, he simply reached down to guide it back between my thighs.
His lips brushed my ear. “Don’t stop,” he commanded, “I want to hear how badly you need me.”
