Chapter 19 When Desire Ignites
WHEN DESIRE IGNITES
“…Let me take care of you.”
I could only nod, my words lost somewhere between my thoughts and my heartbeat.
His touch was a quiet command and a promise all at once, coaxing rather than taking.
Every brush of his skin against mine sent a cascade of awareness through me until even the slightest contact felt amplified, like my body had been waiting all this time just to feel this way.
He was vast above me, his frame a living wall of strength that blocked out everything else.
I felt small beneath him, fragile even, yet never safer than in that moment.
The way he held himself, careful, deliberate, as though the world might splinter if he lost control.
It made it clear that he was fighting something far greater than desire.
It was as if he was holding back the storm itself, and somehow, I was the calm he sought within it. Yet he still took his time, savoring every nuance. Every breath. Every small sound I made.
But then, instead of doing what I expected, he shifted, rolling his large frame to the side of me.
Without a word, he propped himself up on one elbow, the movement slow, leisurely as if he had all night to do as he pleased.
The muscles in his arm flexed with restrained power, the play of light and shadow along his torso stealing my breath.
His other hand, now free, trailed over me with deliberate care, tracing invisible lines as if he was mapping constellations only he could see.
Every pass of his fingers was a question.
Every soft sigh from me, an answer.
It amazed me how a man capable of such destruction, who had ended lives with his bare hands, could now wield those same hands with such tenderness.
Fingers that had once dealt death now traced life across my skin.
Whisper-soft down the sides of my torso, exploring every curve and hollow as though he were branding the memory of me into his soul
Each stroke felt deliberate, reverent.
He wasn’t just touching, he was learning every inch.
Mapping me like a secret he would guard with his life.
It was almost too much to take, the gentleness from someone so dark. My head spun beneath the weight of it, because somehow, the danger in him made the tenderness feel even more intoxicating. If this were a dream, then it was one I never wanted to wake from.
A dream that shattered the moment that hand dipped down to the secret place that I wanted to feel his touch the most. The juncture of my thighs opened up, spreading willingly for him, accommodating his hand.
A silent cry escaped my parted lips as I threw my head back the moment he dipped his fingers through my core.
One he found soaked and ready as he ran them up through dripping flesh.
Arousal he used to swirl around my clit, making me nearly come undone at the first contact.
“Mmm, soft as silk and dripping… I knew you would be so wet for me.” He practically purred in my ear, making me blush.
But as his erotic touch continued, it enticed the first sexual sounds from me.
I allowed myself to moan, unable to stop it, a breathy sound escaping, as his thick, large fingers worked me to a near frenzy, a maddening pace, slow and sensual.
And then he added even more, dipping a thick digit inside me, my channel clutching at it, as if desperate to feel more. My back arched, and this time the moan echoed through the room.
“Perfection,” he hummed, that single word only driving his actions higher and higher.
He was so confidently unhurried. And then his lips started to trail soft kisses along my collarbone and down to my heaving breasts.
Which meant that the second he took one taut nipple into his mouth, I cried out.
And this time, it became a sexual song of utter bliss as my cries of pleasure vibrated around us.
But then came that slight bite of pain as he added another digit and circled my clit with his thumb even faster. The sudden change in what had been until now such gentle actions was enough to have me shattering beneath him.
I moaned and cried and screamed out my first release, my sex fluttering around those fingers, still playing me like a fine-tuned instrument.
However, the second I realized he intended to continue, my hand went to shackle his wrist to stop him.
I couldn't take any more. He let go of my nipple, after giving it a leisurely lick, soothing the abused nub.
After which, he lifted his head enough to capture my gaze and issue me a dark warning,
“You don’t get to restrain me, little rabbit,” he growled, the words a low rumble down at me.
“Not when I am the only predator here.” The command in his voice sent a tremor straight through me, and I let go instantly. Too afraid not to. The space between us vibrated with power, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.
Then came the whisper, oh so dark and approving,
“There’s my good girl.”
The praise slid through me like molten silk, a shiver tearing down my spine before I could stop it.
I felt the curve of his smile against my cheek, his breath hot against my skin.
My eyes stayed shut, because if I opened them, if I looked at him now, I wasn’t sure I’d survive what I’d see looking back.
His unhurried actions continued as he slowed his pace right down once more, fully intent on bringing me to another orgasm in the same way as before.
Only this time, he knew how I would shatter, for the first had just been a taste of what was to come.
Because the next one he brought me had me screaming enough that my face turned into his bicep.
I was overcome and lost in the blissful feeling of an orgasm.
So much so that I found myself biting down on his flesh.
Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that it made him moan.
The guttural sound rippling from his chest sounded more animalistic than anything else.
Again, it only drove the next flutters of my orgasm to stretch out and continue to assault me.
Finally… The moment he touched my clit again, I begged in small, desperate breaths,
“Please… oh please… no more…” He chuckled, a handsomely sadistic sound that only added to my attraction. His voice wrapped around me like a command disguised as pity,
“How am I to resist such a delicious sound from the sweetest lips…But be warned, little rabbit, I could easily become addicted to the sound of you begging me for mercy.” I shuddered against him as his warning hit its mark and took effect.
“All right, little one,” he murmured, the words a low rumble that seemed to settle somewhere deep within me.
“There’ll be enough time for that later.
Now, tell me what you want, my sweet, Nessa.
” The sound of my name on his lips felt like a promise and a challenge all at once.
I forced my eyes open, drawn to the silver glow that seemed to burn straight through me.
Every trace of the storm outside was mirrored there, wild and consuming.
“You know what I want,” I breathed, though even to my own ears, it sounded uncertain, fragile even against the gravity in his voice. He shook his head slowly, a dark, measured gesture.
“No,” he said softly.
“That’s not how this goes. I don’t want your spoken assumptions on what you think I already know.” He leaned closer, his breath brushing my lips.
“I want your truth. I want to hear you claim it.” There was something sacred in his tone, like a vow or an offering.
“Every part of me is already yours. But it only becomes real when you name it,” he told me, his voice stern, his words absolute. Words that struck through me, deeper than touch could ever reach. This wasn’t about power. It was about surrender. About the kind that demanded honesty over all else.
And as I looked into those haunting silver eyes, I realized he wasn’t just asking for my voice.
He was asking for my heart.
He was asking for my vow.
So, I placed my hand over the side of his face, where the shadows pulsed beneath my palm. And I told him, fervently,
“I want you, Vasileios. I want you to make me yours. I want you to claim me as I claim you in return.”
His response to this was to growl before crushing his lips against my own as he shifted his body so that all it took was a blur of motion, and I was caged beneath him.
My legs fell to accommodate him as if my body had made up its own mind and was speaking for me in a silent language that was as old as time.
I felt his large, heavy cock nudge at my entrance, and I almost feared what was coming.
Quickly asking myself how he would ever fit inside me.
“Look at me,” he said, drawing my attention back to him, after I had been looking down to see our bodies as they were about to combine as one.
“You're mine, Nessa. You've always been mine, my love.” He told me, his words passionate and sealed in one swift thrust. One that was brutally raw, as much as it was blissfully monumental.
The way his cock was now seated inside me caused my back to arch as I screamed out.
Doing so, as pain and pleasure quickly merged into one.
His hand fisted the top of my hair, holding me to him, as if afraid I would be able to slip from beneath him at any moment. Not that I wanted to, and not that I thought that I would ever get far. The same guttural sound of pleasure rumbled out of him as he whispered down at me.
“So, this is what Heaven feels like for a devil.” His confession stole the air from my chest, and I clung to him instinctively, as if he were the anchor keeping me from drowning in the tide of his words.
He started to move slowly at first, as if not wanting to hurt me. My legs clamped around him, gaining purchase on his backside, so that I could keep myself connected. In the end, all it took was an encouraging squeeze of my legs around him for him to start to move quicker.