7. Chapter Seven #3
He nodded once, gaze lingering for half a second too long before drifting toward me.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” He said gently.
“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “You’re… welcome. To be here. Or whatever.” My face was on fire. My chest actually was on fire. My brain had packed its bags and left the building.
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate.
He reached past me—his arm brushing mine as he picked up a dry rag from the counter—my heart felt like it was in my throat.
His gaze locked on mine, unwavering as he stepped even closer, and for a second, I forgot how to exist. I could feel the heat rolling off him, smell that now-familiar blend of incense and rainwater, sharp and clean and entirely him .
The scent curled around me, making the air feel heavy as if I’d stepped into something sacred and dangerous.
He pressed the cloth gently to my chest, his hand steady but cautious. Not lingering, but not impersonal, either. He was just… drying tea.
But he was touching me.
My heart thudded against my ribs like it wanted out.
His eyes never left mine—not even as the cloth moved in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure feather-light but unbearably present.
Every brush of fabric sent sparks skittering across my skin.
When his gaze finally dropped, just briefly, to my lips, I felt my whole body lean toward him without meaning to.
My skin burned under the towel. My thoughts scattered.
He held the towel there a beat too long. Not moving. Just… breathing. Like he was weighing something behind those molten eyes—something impossible to say out loud, then, just as suddenly as he’d stepped into my space, he stepped back. The distance was jarring.
Cold, somehow.
“May we have the same rooms again this evening?” he asked, his tone now cool and businesslike, though his voice still carried that same impossible depth.
I blinked, momentarily disoriented. It was only when he turned slightly that I really saw his teeth—mostly human, but his canines were just a touch too long, slightly pointed. Predatory.
“S-sure,” I stammered, still rooted in place.
“Thank you,” he said, pausing as he reached the door. He turned his head slightly, his eyes landing on my spill once more.
The moment he was gone, I sagged against the counter, towel clutched to my chest like a lifeline. My skin still burned. My mouth was dry. I was pretty sure my brain had dissolved somewhere between his hand on my tits and his eyes on my mouth.
Oh. My. Gods.
It wasn’t just attraction. Not just heat or embarrassment. It was like something in me had been pulled toward him—not just my body, but something deeper. Like a rope had been quietly tied between us and was now slowly, steadily pulling taut.
I touched the place where the towel had pressed against my skin, then let my hand fall away—good Gods, I thought, heat flooding through me again at the memory of his touch.
That man is so unbelievably sexy.
I finally made it to my chambers for the evening.
As I closed the door to my room, something twinged low in my stomach—not nerves, not desire.
Something warmer. A ripple beneath the skin.
Like the air inside me flexed. I pressed a hand to my ribs, startled.
It was a sensation I’d never felt before, but I pressed it down and called it exhaustion.
I sank into my bed, the worn mattress creaking beneath me.
Sleep felt like an impossibility as my mind refused to quiet.
Every second of my encounter with Eldrake in the kitchen replayed in vivid detail, his towering presence and the way his heat pressed into me.
I closed my eyes, letting the memory wash over me.
I could still feel the warmth of him, the way he looked at me, different from before.
More primal. My body responded immediately, a flush spreading from my cheeks down to my chest and peaking at my breasts as the memory morphed into fantasy.
I imagined what it would be like to feel his hands on me, the strength of his fingers trailing over my skin with deliberate intent.
The heat rolled through me in waves, growing stronger as I pictured my hands on his chest, exploring the hard muscles hidden beneath his leather.
My breath quickened as the image of him pulling me against him and filling me completely consumed my thoughts.
Skin on skin, heat, and passion coursed through my mind like a fire I couldn’t extinguish.
His touch, his lips, his weight pressing against me—it all felt so vivid, so real, and yet so maddeningly out of reach.
Before I could stop myself, my hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of my nightgown, seeking the source of the ache that had been building since he leaned over me that first night.
My fingers brushed against my soaking wet skin, and I gasped softly, the slickness evidence of just how deeply he had affected me.
This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back.
I paused, just for a breath—stunned at how much I wanted this.
At how my body had never felt this alive .
My fingers ventured further than they ever had before, exploring the sensitive heat between my thighs.
I bit my lip as I pressed deeper, finding the spot that made my body shudder with anticipation.
My hips arched into the touch as I began to move, my fingers thrusting slowly at first, then faster, as the waves of pleasure built with each motion. My breath came in ragged gasps, his name echoing in my mind like a mantra.
“Eldrake,” I whispered, my voice laden with need.
I imagined his hands in place of mine, his body against mine, his low voice murmuring my name as he claimed every inch of me. The thought sent me spiraling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending a flood of ecstasy through my body.
I cried out softly, the sound swallowed by the darkness of my room as I collapsed inward on myself, trembling from the release.
“Eldrake…” his name left my lips again in a breathless moan, lingering in the quiet as I lay there, spent and still yearning.
The intensity of it left me dazed, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared up at the ceiling.
The heat of my fantasies began to fade, replaced by a quiet ache—not just for his touch, but for the connection I knew I could never have.
I sighed, curling into the blankets and letting the exhaustion finally claim me, though the memory of him stayed with me, etched into every corner of my mind.