Chapter 8 #2
“I like that,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around him.
He returned the smile, his dark eyes shining with quiet passion. His handsome face, so tender and kind, felt like a lifeline I desperately needed, yet I questioned his true motives.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned into him, feeling his presence as our gazes locked.
“I promise, Daphne. I mean every word I say,” he whispered earnestly. “All I ask is that you trust me.”
“Famous last words,” I mumbled.
He growled, his tone serious yet affectionate. “I won’t let you down.”
I pressed him further, my voice trembling but determined. “You didn’t answer my question, Thal. Why are you doing this? Why are you tearing my world apart?”
He didn't hesitate. He took my face in both hands, his grip firm—almost bruising, forcing me to look at the raw hunger in his eyes.
“Because I haven’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since that island, Daphne,” he growled, his voice a jagged rasp.
“You didn't 'impact' me. You haunted me. I’ve spent every day since then seeing your face in every crowd and feeling your ghost in my bed. Every woman I touched was just a poor imitation of the fire you lit in my blood.”
He leaned down, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath a scorching ghost on my lips.
“I’m not doing this to be a hero. I’m not doing it to be kind.
I’m doing it because I’m done living with a memory.
I want the real thing, and I’ll burn every bridge Zeno ever built to keep you.
I’ve had the dream, Daphne. Now I’m taking the reality. ”
I gazed at him, struggling to grasp the meaning behind his words. A desperate hope flickered within me, a yearning to believe him.
The memories of that time on the island lingered, precious yet distant, reminding me of a longing for genuine connection, something real and tangible.
Was this my opportunity to have a dream in my hands and make it true?
Still, a tiny spark of hope kindled inside me, flickering like a fragile flame. It merged with the constant desire that surfaced whenever I was close to him. My breathing became shallow, and my heartbeat sped up, each throb reflecting my silent longing.
Only with this man had I ever truly felt alive. Yet, a small voice inside me, the voice of doubt, kept whispering warnings not to trust him.
Whose voice was it? Mine, or Zeno’s? The uncertainty seeped into my thoughts, casting shadows over the flickering hope.
For now, I pushed it aside, burying it deep inside me as the desire I felt for Thal bubbled up in its place.
Sparkling and electric, the connection between us was undeniable. I might have been reluctant and unsure about his motives, but when I was in his arms, the fear faded away. And that had to mean something, didn’t it?
Something snapped inside me, and overwhelming emotion took over. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to fucking strategize.
I just wanted to feel Thal’s body on mine and nothing more.
No pressure.
No ulterior motives.
Just him. And me. And nothing else but the pleasure we gave to each other.
I kissed him, hard, rough, and full of all the frustration swirling inside me. It felt desperate and needy, but I didn’t care. I was desperate. I was fucking needy. I’d never needed anything more than Thal, right then, right there, in that exact moment.
And he responded beautifully, fulfilling my need with his own, revealing his vulnerability, his struggle, and his fierce desire to drown out everything else and just merge into each other.
We both had risked our lives to be together, and I wasn’t blind to that. I had a sense he would shoulder the greater danger from Zeno, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He knew it too.
Still, he wanted me. Despite the peril, despite the threat.
His courage was remarkable, while Zeno’s capacity for monstrosities was beyond words, unspeakable by most.
Being with me might cost Thal everything he'd spent years building. And still…
Here he was.
Calm, confident, eager, my longing for him ignited a fiery passion that consumed my entire being, driven by the intense flames he awakened within me.
In that moment, I surrendered completely, allowing myself to be swept away by the pleasure he generously gave. I parted my lips to welcome him as his tongue slid in, meeting mine in a dance of heat and tenderness, an intimate exchange that set my senses ablaze.
A soft moan escaped my lips as I leaned into him, feeling the electric touch of his body against mine. Our kiss deepened, becoming a passionate pursuit of shared ecstasy, tongues entwined in a rhythmic dance. I reveled in the sensation of him close, the connection so visceral and real.
After a few lingering moments, he pulled back, a storm brewing behind his eyes, hinting at the intense emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
“I need you, Daphne,” he growled, his voice heavy with lust.
“Then take me,” I said, pulling at the hem of his shirt. I yanked it over his head, exposing the rippling muscles on his torso. My pussy quivered at the sight, slick and wet with anticipation.
He didn't pick me up. He didn't lead me to the bedroom like a gentleman, or even a lover.
Instead, he gripped my waist with a strength that promised bruises, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of my hips as if he were trying to leave a permanent mark through the fabric of my dress.
With a low, sharp growl, he spun me around and slammed my chest against the cold iron railing of the terrace.
The contrast hit me like a violent, stunning shock.
The icy metal railing pressed into my breasts, its sharpness making my nipples ache, while Thal’s chest was a fiery wall pressing against my back.
I was caught between the harsh reality of the city beneath me and the fiery obsession of the man behind.
The smell of rain-damp pavement mixed with his costly bourbon in my lungs, creating a mixture of pure, unfiltered destruction.
He didn't wait. His hands slid down over my hips and butt, his palms rough and demanding. He bunched the fabric of my skirt up in his fists, dragging it over my waist until I was completely exposed to the desert wind and his predatory, silver-blue gaze.
“You aren’t wearing panties,” he hissed against my ear, his breath a scorching ghost that made my knees buckle.
I let my head fall onto the cold iron railing, a ragged breath escaping me as the reality of my situation—the delicious, terrifying shame of it—hit me.
“Whoops,” I managed to shrug, though my voice was a broken, airy whisper.
I felt the heat of his stare on my bare cheeks, a physical weight that made my pussy throb with a desperate, heavy pulse, already weeping for him.
“Holy fuck, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, Daphne,” he growled. It was a hungry, savage observation, the sound of a man who had finally found the one thing worth destroying his reputation for.
He sank to his knees behind me. I shuddered, a long tremor rolling through my spine as his lips found the curve of my ass.
He planted hot, insistent kisses on my skin, his mouth sliding against me with a slow, agonizing deliberation.
He was marking me, claiming every inch of my skin as his territory.
I gripped the railing until the metal dug into my palms, my vision blurring as the scent of star jasmine from the terrace planters and the expensive whiskey on his breath swirled around us.
When he placed his hands between my thighs and forced them wide, I felt my last bit of common sense dissolve into the night air.
My dress was bunched at my waist, leaving me entirely open to the city.
If anyone looked up, they might see the silhouette of a woman surrendering her soul.
But then Thal bent his head, and his tongue darted out, licking me from the very base of my entrance all the way up to my swollen clit in one long, devastating stroke.
I cried out, the sound echoing up to the heavens, a raw confession of a need I hadn't known could be this primal.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, his voice muffled by my slickness. “Keep them wide, beauty. I want the city to see exactly how much you want me.”
I obeyed, my thighs quivering, my hips lifting instinctively to give him better access.
It felt erotically risqué, a wicked betrayal of every rule Zeno had ever drilled into me.
But Thal’s tongue was magic, a relentless, heavy swirl that pulled every ounce of pleasure out of my body.
He licked and nibbled at my sex, his tongue darting inside me to taste the depth of my arousal.
“Fuck, Thal,” I sobbed, my head dropping onto the iron.
He reached around, his fingers finding my clit and pinning it against the bone with a rhythmic, merciless pressure.
I was a wreckage of nerves, my body bucking against the railing as he worked me into a frenzy.
The world vanished—the tourists, the neon, the past—nothing existed but his mouth, the bite of the metal, and the rhythmic, wet sounds of his tongue against my pussy.
I spasmed and shook, my juices flowing into his mouth as a massive, world-ending orgasm shattered my resolve. I felt the heat of his face pressed against me as I came, his hands holding my thighs steady so I couldn't escape the intensity.
As the aftershocks died down, Thal pulled back slowly, leaving me feeling fragile and cold. Then, I heard the distinct, metallic zip of his trousers. My eyes widened, my pussy spasming at the sensation of his cock—thick, hot, and terrifyingly heavy—rubbing against my entrance from behind.
“I need you now, beauty,” he muttered, his voice a primal rasp.
“I’m yours,” I whimpered, the words a final bridge-burning surrender. “My pussy is all yours, Thal. Take it.”