Chapter 28
28
Anora
Three Days Later
I swear this man was sent to torture me. Three days. Three days since I had an orgasm, and now we’re back to chivalry. It’s sweet, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s amazing that this ridiculously ancient, impossibly gorgeous creature sees something special in me. But right now, I’m ravenous—in every sense of the word. He hasn’t touched me again since that night, hasn’t made another move, and I’m wondering if he’s pulling back because of what happened.
Doesn’t he get it? Opening up to me, confessing like that, only made me love him more.
He’s lying against the headboard, watching me like he doesn’t have a care in the world. My plate is balanced on my lap as I finish my sandwich. His fingers are tangled in my hair, absently playing with the strands, and his eyes are closed. There’s the smallest smile on his face—peaceful, content. It’s almost ridiculous how relaxed he looks.
I frown, staring at him as I finish chewing. The look on his face, that stupid serene smile—it’s like this is the happiest he’s ever been. And maybe it is.
I can’t wrap my head around it half the time. Amir’s been alive for centuries. Thousands of years. How do you even survive that kind of loneliness without losing your mind?
Wait. No. There’s no way.
He can’t have gone centuries without sex. That’s impossible. Couldn’t be me. I mean, even I would have given in a few times just for relief.
Amir chuckles, and I freeze mid-thought. My eyes snap up to him. That smug smile spreads across his face.
He knows.
“What’s on your mind, Angel?” he asks, his voice smooth like he’s enjoying this way too much.
The heat rushes to my face. I tear my eyes away and focus on my plate, cheeks burning. “Nothing,” I mumble.
“Anora.” His voice is firm, stopping my pathetic attempt at deflection.
I huff, shoulders slumping. There’s no point trying to dodge. He’ll get it out of me eventually, and honestly, I can’t stop thinking about it anyway. The question’s been eating at me for a while now.
“Did you ever love anyone? Before me, I mean,” I blurt.
His chest rumbles with laughter, startled and amused, and I instantly regret speaking.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he teases.
I try to twist out of his lap and slide off the bed, but his grip on me tightens.
“Amir—let me go,” I grumble, glaring at him .
“Not until you calm down.” He sighs, his tone softening. “No. There’s never been anyone else. There has never been love before you.”
My head snaps up to meet his gaze. My stomach flips at the intensity in his eyes.
He’s serious.
It hits me—centuries of existence, and he’s never loved anyone. Not really. All those years of watching others find their mates, of seeing love bloom around him while he stayed alone. No wonder he holds me so carefully, touches me like I might disappear. To him, I’m not just a lover—I’m the end of an eternity of waiting.
“But...” My eyes narrow. “You’re not a virgin.”
His lips twitch, and then he’s laughing again.
“You are truly something, Anora.” He smiles warmly at me. “No. I’m not a virgin.”
I study him, my mind racing. “And you didn’t feel anything for... them? It was just sex?”
He groans, dragging a hand over his face. “Anora, do we really have to?—”
“Yes,” I snap, cutting him off.
Amir sighs in defeat. “Fine. Yes, I felt something . Lust is still a feeling, after all. But love? No. I’ve never loved anyone. Not like I love you.”
His voice dips, low and serious, and the conviction in his words makes my chest ache.
“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved. Do you understand that?” His eyes are locked on mine, sharp and unyielding.
I shiver, swallowing as his words sink in.
“Was she supernatural?” I ask. The question comes out of nowhere, and I feel ridiculous the second I say it .
“No.” He doesn’t hesitate. “Hell no. I would never touch a fated. Never.”
His tone darkens, hard edges creeping in. “If I found one of my kind—if I knew some supernatural had touched you—I’d rip their damn head off.”
I blink at him, startled by the growl in his voice, and then a small giggle escapes me. I press my forehead into his chest, trying to hide my face.
He softens, an arm wrapping around me as he continues. “They were human. Always human. And I made sure they knew there was nothing more to it. I was honest from the start. They deserved that at least.”
I relax a bit, but there’s still this nagging jealousy. I don’t even mean to say it, but the words tumble out anyway. “Well, at least you weren’t walking around for centuries without an orgasm.”
The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to laugh, but his face stays serious. “Anora.”
His tone pulls me back. He looks almost... guilty.
“Those flings,” he says carefully, “weren’t worth it. They may have ended in physical release, but they always left me hollow. There was nothing real in it. No connection. I felt like I was betraying something—someone—even though I didn’t know who at the time. I stopped a long time ago.”
I glance up at him, surprised.
“I didn’t want to set the wrong example for my people.” His voice is steady, controlled. “I’ve warned my shifters about it—chasing something empty just to quiet the human part that craves a release. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way. I’ve spent years teaching others to be better than I was.”
The honesty in his words knocks the wind out of me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “For telling me. For being honest. ”
His hand cradles my face, and he leans down, brushing his lips softly, lazily over mine.
“You make me feel like I can finally breathe, Anora. Like I can be myself with you,” he says quietly. “I’ve waited a very long time for that feeling.”
My cheeks burn, and I press my head into his chest again, hiding the stupid, bashful smile spreading across my face. I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I know one thing for sure—I never want to let him go.
I stare up into his golden eyes. It’s effortless to get lost in them, like staring into twin flames that know every secret I’m too scared to tell. He holds me close, his arms wrapped securely around my waist, his expression calm, like he has all the time in the world. The only sound between us is the faint whistle of winter wind outside, but it feels like he’s listening to something deeper.
His scent surrounds me—sandalwood and musk. It’s warm, earthy, and familiar, comforting in a way that feels like home. His skin is rich and deep like polished mahogany, glowing softly.
His ears, sharp and pointed, twitch occasionally as if catching some sound I can’t hear. Then, all at once, he stiffens, drawing in a deliberate sniff of the air. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile as his grip on my waist tightens, pulling me impossibly closer.
I want to disappear. He knows. I can tell by the way his golden eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper that sends heat coursing through me. Of course, he can smell my arousal. He always catches it before I can reign it in.
And yet, despite everything my body is screaming for, he keeps his composure. He remains a gentleman, even while I’m sitting here practically ready to throw myself at him .
“Do you need me, Anora?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing. His breath brushes against my skin, warm and sweet, and I want to collapse into him, let the warmth of his embrace consume me entirely.
I roll my eyes, leaning back slightly to glare up at him. “Oh, you’re finally going to make a move?” I challenge. “I’m practically throwing myself at you, and all you ever do is hold me like I’m some delicate flower.” I huff, frustrated. Somehow the roles have reversed, and I hate how desperate I sound.
He chuckles, low and deep, the sound vibrating against me. “I’m not taking your virginity, not like this,” he says, his tone gentle yet firm. “I’ll do it when the time is right.”
His hand brushes against my cheek, his fingers warm and soft, and all my frustration melts away in an instant. Damn him. He consumes me with the smallest touches, and he knows it.
“And when will that happen?” I grumble, turning my head to avoid looking at him. He’s too much. Too perfect. Too infuriating.
He laughs again, taking my chin between his fingers and gently forcing me to meet his gaze. “When the time is right,” he murmurs. “But I can remedy your frustration for now.” His smile widens, mischievous yet oddly comforting.
“Remedy my frustration?” I snap back. “How? By letting me dry hump you?”
His laughter echoes through the room. “You have a fiery personality. I love it.” He lowers his head slightly, his nose brushing against mine so lightly it makes my breath catch. Then he brings his fingers together as if preparing to snap.
I blink at him, caught off guard. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice unsteady .
“I simply need your permission, Anora,” he says, his lips twitching with a playful smirk.
“Permission for what?” I demand, narrowing my eyes.
“To ease the ache between your legs,” he replies, his voice low, intimate. My heart skips a beat as his golden gaze pierces mine, his nose brushing mine again, a gesture that leaves me completely rattled.
“O—okay,” I manage to stammer, my voice barely a whisper.
His eyes gleam as he smiles once more and snaps his fingers.
Heat surges through me instantly, a tidal wave building and crashing with an intensity that takes my breath away. I gasp, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as the orgasm tears through me, sharp and consuming, leaving me trembling in his lap. He clutches me tighter against his chest, not allowing me to pull away or even shift. I bury my face into him, feeling the heat ripple through me in waves, long and slow, until it finally fades into soft flutters.
My breathing quickens, my chest rising and falling against his as my heart pounds in disbelief. I lift my head slowly, staring into his golden eyes, my own eyes wide and shocked. “Did you just...”
He grins, cutting off my question before I can even finish it. Of course, he did. He made me climax with nothing more than a snap of his fingers. The realization makes me shudder.
It’s not just the physical pleasure that overwhelms me – it’s the power he wields so casually, the way he can reduce me to trembling with just a gesture. And yet he’s so gentle with it, so careful. Even in this, he’s thinking of me first, making sure I’m comfortable, protected. His mix of strength and tenderness makes my heart ache .
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, tender and calming. “This is only the beginning, Anora,” he murmurs, holding me close against his chest. His hand glides down my back in slow, soothing strokes. “There’s so much pleasure I want to give you. And I’ve waited a long time to do so.”
I exhale shakily against his shoulder, still trying to recover as his warmth lulls me.
“Now,” he murmurs softly, his voice like a caress, “how about a nap? I enjoy watching you sleep.”
His words should probably creep me out, but instead they fill me with a warmth I can’t explain. Because this is Amir - ancient, powerful, dangerous Amir - and he finds peace in something as simple as watching me sleep. Maybe that’s what real love is: finding the extraordinary in ordinary moments, turning simple things into sacred ones. And somehow, impossibly, he’s chosen to make me his sacred thing.