My hands roamed lower, unapologetically exploring, memorizing every curve and hollow, every delicate contour that made her mine.Her body trembled under my touch, arching toward me, craving the pleasure only I could give.She was mine—to touch, to worship, to ruin.And I intended to do all three, relentlessly, until she knew she belonged to me.
Control slipped through my fingers, crumbling to dust as raw need took over.I was no longer the calculated general, the master of strategy and discipline.I was a man, undone and ravenous, burning with a desire that threatened to consume us both.
I would claim her, body and soul, until her screams echoed my name, until she was marked as mine, bound to me in ways she would never escape.
Her gown hugged her curves, teasing me with the promise of what lay beneath.It was plain and practical, a testament to her devotion to alchemy over vanity.But to me, it was an obstacle that needed to be removed.My fingers traced the neckline slowly, teasingly, before I slid the fabric from her shoulders, watching as it cascaded to the floor in a whisper of linen around her feet.
Her bare skin glowed in the candlelight, flawless and inviting, a vision of temptation that made my mouth water.My lips found her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the delicate line of her throat.Her pulse fluttered beneath my tongue, quickening with anticipation, and a shiver ran through her as I grazed her skin with my teeth.
A breathless apology fell from her lips, a confession that she owned nothing finer, nothing more seductive.I silenced her with a growl, my hands tightening possessively on her hips, pulling her against me, making sure she felt every hard, throbbing inch of my need for her.
“You don’t need silks or lace to seduce me,” I murmured, my voice low, rough with desire.“You don’t need anything at all.”
Her blush deepened, her innocence igniting a fire within me, and I claimed her mouth in a hungry, dominating kiss, my tongue exploring, tasting, owning.She melted against me, her body pliant and eager, her hands clutching at my shoulders as if to anchor herself against the storm I was about to unleash.
My fingers found the ribbons at her waist, pulling them loose impatiently.The petticoats fell in soft folds, slipping down her legs, brushing against her bare thighs as they descended to the floor.I kicked them aside, clearing the way and making room for what would happen.
I touched her everywhere, my hands greedy, intent, sliding over her curves, learning every inch of her.Her body was soft, warm, inviting, and I explored it without restraint, my palms caressing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the smooth expanse of her thighs.
A needy moan escaped her, her back arching as her body sought mine, and my name fell from her lips, breathy and pleading, driving me to the brink of madness.I watched her as she surrendered herself to me and offered everything she was, everything she would ever be.
I would take her—slowly, thoroughly.I would claim her, over and over, until her body bore the mark of my touch, until my hands molded her very essence.She would scream my name, a symphony of surrender, echoing off the walls until her voice was raw, until she was utterly, irrevocably mine.
Body and soul.Forever.
With a swift, fluid motion, I tore off my leather jerkin, the heavy garment dropping to the floor with a dull thud, a forgotten relic of who I was before this moment.My cravat was next, yanked free and discarded carelessly, the knot unraveling as I stripped away every barrier between us.The linen shirt followed, pulled over my head, leaving me bare, exposed to her hungry gaze.
She was already naked—gloriously so.Her body was a masterpiece, with soft curves and smooth skin, delicate and powerful, illuminated by the dim, flickering candlelight.Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, cascading around her like a halo of temptation.
Her eyes were wide with desire, pupils dilated as they roamed over me, taking in every scar, every line etched into my flesh.Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping as she drank me in, her cheeks flushing with need, her chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths.
“Your scars...”Her voice was a whisper, trembling with fascination.Her fingers reached out tentatively, brushing over the raised lines that mapped my battles, the wounds I had endured and survived.Her touch was delicate and reverent, sending electricity crackling through my nerves, igniting a fire that burned hot and fierce.
“Every mark is a story,” I murmured, stepping closer, the air charged with unspoken intimacy between us.“A reminder that I survived...to find you.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, shimmering with emotion, her lips parting with a soft gasp.“Amir...you’re beautiful.”
Her words shattered something inside me, leaving me raw, vulnerable, and hungrier than I had ever been.I needed her—needed to feel her, taste her, consume her.
I captured her mouth with mine, a searing kiss that left no room for doubt, my tongue sliding between her parted lips, tasting her, claiming her.She responded with fervor, her hands clutching at my shoulders, her bare body pressing against me, soft curves molding to my hardness.
With one hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place, my other roamed downward, tracing the delicate line of her throat and the elegant curve of her collarbone.Her pulse raced beneath my fingers, quick and frantic, and I followed its rhythm, my lips moving to her neck, my tongue tasting the salt of her skin.
She whimpered, her body arching into mine, her skin electric beneath my touch, desperate for more.
I answered her plea, my hands gliding lower, exploring the curves that had haunted my nights, the softness that drove me to madness.
“Amir…”
My name fell from her lips like a prayer, breathless, yearning, drenched in desire.
It shattered the last remnants of my control.
I growled against her throat, my teeth grazing her delicate skin, nipping, tasting, marking her, claiming her.
Mine.
Only mine.
