Chapter 24 Braxton
Braxton
How long can someone stay submerged in ice-cold water until hypothermia becomes a concern? I’m testing these limits after having Azalea perched on my lap. She knew exactly what she was doing with every almost imperceptible wiggle of her hips.
She has no idea the level of self-control it took for me not to slam her down on my desk and claim her as mine when she had her hands all over me right before she shoved me away and stalked off.
As soon as I couldn’t hear the click-clack of her heels on the floors, I knew I was either in for an incredibly cold bath or I was going to have to fuck my hand until my dick was raw.
Fucking my hand seems like the better option now, as I rise from the bath with chattering teeth.
No matter how frigid I made the water temperature, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I wished to do to Azalea in that damned dress.
She has no idea what that dress even means to me, and somehow she chose it for tonight.
The sick part of my mind wants to convince me that that means something, that it could be another clue to how this curse is changing, but the realistic side of me knows better.
There was no rhyme or reason to her choosing to wear that dress, and she has no idea the torment I endured having to stare at her in it all night.
Tonight went too far. She took things too far, or perhaps I did.
It’s becoming blurred in my mind as I recall how her hands felt cascading along my body.
The moment my circulation returns, my blood rushes south as my mind conjures up an image of me slowly removing each scrap of fabric from her body to worship it the way I know she wants me to.
She can lie to herself all she wants, but I know how her body responds to me, just as I’ve made it abundantly clear how my body responds to her.
My jaw clenches as I replay the events from tonight. How could I be so reckless? I’ve never let my composure slip the way it did, and every time I slip up like that, it gives her one more piece of the puzzle she is frantically putting together.
My fingers rake through my hair as I blow out an exasperated breath.
She was so desperate to get the best of me tonight.
She’s never gone to such lengths to try and discover my secrets, and that realization makes me apprehensive about how much this curse may be finally changing her.
That’s the last thing I wanted when I made this deal.
I was prepared for it to change me. I knew I wouldn’t be the same man once we came out on the other side of this.
I was prepared to suffer. But not her. Never her.
I groan as I rummage through my dresser drawers to grab something to wear to bed.
My stress levels have already been high enough while I’ve been doing some research of my own on changing curses.
I don’t know if Dianthus is the one changing the curse’s rules that she’s forced me to play by for so long, or if something is happening to her magic and it’s retroactively affecting this curse.
What I do know is that change is happening. I had my suspicions with some of the events happening around the castle, and now my confidence is growing with each passing day. So many things are happening that I have not endured in far too long, and I need to know how I can use this to my benefit.
However, if I’m wrong and she’s changing the parameters on her own accord, that means I have to play my next few moves very carefully, because she could snap her fingers and take everything from me—more-so than she already has.
My chest aches as I think about the love I lost. The love she took from me. What I wouldn’t do to get her back.
I physically shake those thoughts from my head. Wallowing in that pity is not going to get me what I need.
And right now, I’m wound too tight both from my concerns with this curse and from imagining where I could have taken things with Azalea tonight. As much as I hate to admit it, I know exactly what I need. A release.
It looks like I’m going to be fucking my hand tonight, anyway.