Chapter 17
Cora POV
He presses me back onto the bed, his weight settling over me with a force that is both commanding and protective. His eyes lock onto mine, piercing deep, as though he can see every secret I’ve ever held. The intensity steals my breath.
Then his mouth claims mine, fierce and unrelenting, not caring that the taste of him still lingers on my tongue. The kiss consumes me, leaving no space for thought, only the rush of desire.
With deliberate hands, he loosens the bath sheet, unraveling it until it falls away. I lie bare beneath him, vulnerable yet unafraid, every inch of me exposed to him.
His lips trail down, finding the curve of my neck. He sucks, nips, each touch igniting sparks that race through me, fire blooming in my core. My body arches toward him instinctively, craving more, needing him closer, needing him now.
His mouth moves to my breasts; he sucks on my nipple hard, and I let out a moan. The sensation is incredible; he does the same to the other and my hands tangle in his hair.
He trails kisses along my ribs, each touch sending sparks racing through me. His mouth moves lower, lingering at my stomach, where he nips and sucks with a hunger that makes me certain he will leave marks; marks that will remind me of this moment long after it has passed.
His lips find my right hip bone, pressing a kiss that makes my breath hitch. Then his tongue glides slowly across to the left, deliberate and unhurried, igniting fire beneath my skin.
I can hear the rush of my pulse in my ears, loud and insistent, as though my body itself is calling out to him. My muscles tremble, my breath falters, and I am undone, shaking with need.
His tongue slides through my folds, slowly exploring me. He settles on the little buddle of nerves and begins to lick and flick it.
“Oh, Garrion…” I moan, his name spilling from me as my fingers tighten in his hair, desperate to hold on to him. The sensation flooding through me is so intense, so consuming, I don’t know if I can endure it. My body trembles, overwhelmed, caught between pleasure and surrender.
Instinctively, I try to squeeze my thighs shut, seeking some measure of control, some way to contain the storm inside me. But he is relentless, his hands firm, insistent, pushing them apart, refusing to let me retreat from what he is giving me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to steady myself against the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to tear me apart. My breath shudders, my body trembling, and the words slip from me unbidden—“I can’t…”
But Garrion doesn’t relent. His strength, his hunger, his determination only presses harder, driving me past the edge of resistance. Every touch, every movement pushes me closer to the brink, closer to the oblivion I both fear and crave.
With the final flick of his tongue, I shatter, my cry tearing from my throat as my body trembles and spasms uncontrollably around him. The world dissolves into waves of pleasure, leaving me breathless, undone.
Before I can even gather myself, his mouth is on mine, urgent and consuming. His kiss is fierce, his tongue chasing mine, claiming me as though he cannot bear a single moment of distance.
The taste is unmistakable - me, on him, and the realization sends another shiver through me.
My body is still trembling, waves of pleasure rippling through me, leaving me breathless and undone. I feel his erection pressing against me, insistent and unyielding, the promise of what is to come burning between us.
And then, with a single thrust he enters me.
My body strains, stretching to accommodate him, the ache sharp and consuming.
I bury my head into the curve of his neck, clinging to the solid warmth of him as though it might steady me.
His scent surrounds me, grounding me, and I breathe through the pain.
Garrion exhales a steadying breath, his body tense as he adjusts to the closeness of us. The sound is low, controlled, yet I can feel the strain in him, the effort to hold back, to be careful.
“If it hurts too much, we can stop, Cora,” he whispers against my ear, his voice rough with concern, the gentleness at odds with the hunger in his touch.
But I don’t want him to stop. The ache, the stretch, the fire, it’s all part of what I crave. “No,” I breathe, my words trembling but certain. “I want more”
At my plea, restraint shatters. He plus back, I can feel him exiting me fully and then he thrusts back in hard.
I see stars, the world flashing white behind my eyes. His thrusts are hard, relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, driving me higher with every movement. The bed shakes beneath us, creaking with the force, each collision sending me spiraling further.
His chest presses against mine, the heat of his skin rubbing against me, grounding me even as the pleasure threatens to tear me apart. My breath catches, breaks, and all I can do is moan, helpless, desperate, consumed by him.
My legs coil tightly around him, desperate for more friction, pulling him closer as my hips rise to meet his in perfect rhythm. Each movement feels like a dance, raw and unrestrained, our bodies finding harmony in the chaos.
Suddenly, his hands capture mine, pinning them above my head with firm authority.
The shift forces his chest away from mine, and a rush of cool air slips between us, a sharp contrast to the heat blazing everywhere else.
The absence makes me ache, craving the press of him again, even as the restraint sends another shiver through me.
His movements grow frantic, almost ruthless, each thrust driving deeper, striking a place inside me where pain and pleasure blur together until I can no longer tell them apart.
My body arches, trembling, and I squeeze my eyes shut, clinging to the rhythm, riding each surge as it threatens to tear me apart.
“Look at me, Cora,” he orders, his voice rough, commanding, impossible to ignore.
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. His deep brown eyes lock onto mine, burning with intensity, and the world narrows to that connection. I wish his mask were gone, wish I could see all of him, every raw emotion written across his face, as he drives me closer to the edge.
My body arches, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure, every muscle tightening around him as orgasm floods through me. The tremors ripple outward, leaving me breathless, undone, consumed by the intensity of it.
Above me, Garrion grits his teeth, the strain etched across his face as he pulls out of me and starts stoking himself hard.
He moans, the sound raw and guttural, vibrating through me as his body shudders.
The tension breaks, and his release spills across my stomach in hot, scattered bursts, marking me with the evidence of his desire.
I lie beneath him, breathless, trembling.
He rises, moving with quiet purpose, and retrieves a washcloth from beside the bath. When he returns to me, his touch is careful, almost reverent, as he begins to clean me. I flinch, a soft wince escaping as the ache reminds me of how hard he had been.
“I’m sorry I was rough,” he murmurs, his voice low, edged with guilt, as he wipes the last traces of his release from my stomach.
“Don’t be,” I whisper back, meeting his eyes, wanting him to know I don’t regret a single moment.
He pulls me gently upright, his arms steadying me, and then his lips find mine. The kiss is tender, soothing, a promise of care after the storm we’ve weathered together.
He stretches out beside me, pulling me into the shelter of his arms. His breathing is still rugged, matching the uneven rhythm of mine.
“I didn’t keep my promise to you,” he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion and regret. “To wait until we were in my bed.”
“I don’t care” I whisper, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath my touch.
The question gnaws at me, refusing to stay buried. I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. “Why didn’t you finish inside me?”
His eyes darken, his jaw tightens, and his answer comes blunt, unflinching. “I’m not ready for kids, Cora.”
“Oh… that’s okay,” is all I manage, and in truth, a part of me feels relieved. There is still so much we have yet to discover about each other, so much I cannot be ready for until he shows me who he truly is, without the mask, without the shadows.
“You should get some rest,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, as he pulls the blanket over us.
The warmth of his body surrounds me, steady and protective, and I let myself sink into it.
My eyes grow heavy, the weight of exhaustion mingling with the comfort of his embrace, and I surrender to sleep, carried away in the safety of his arms.
I don’t know if I’m awake or trapped in some fevered dream. I’m back on the forest floor, bound to the tree, but this time the bandits are no longer sleeping.
“Lady Darkmoor… such a pretty little thing you are,” one of them sneers, his breath hot against my skin as his tongue drags across my neck.
Disgust and horror scream through me, my body recoiling even though the ropes hold me fast. My heart pounds, my breath catches, and I jolt upright, only to find myself in a room dimly lit by a single candle.
The ropes are gone. The bandits are gone. But so is Garrion.
The bed beneath me feels real, the blanket tangled around my legs, yet doubt claws at me. Did I dream him finding me, claiming me here, taking me into his arms? Was it all just a cruel illusion, a side effect of the river’s cold gnawing at my body?
I rise slowly, slipping into the clothes the innkeeper had given me. My ankle throbs with each step, a dull reminder of everything I’ve endured, and I limp carefully toward the door. I ease it open, quiet as a whisper, and make my way down the hallway.
The faint glow of lanterns spills into the open dining space, and there, at one of the tables, I see Garrion. His back is to me, broad and familiar, and Mika sits across from him. Garrion’s mask rests on the table, discarded, as though he feels no need to hide in his presence.
A sharp pang of jealousy twists inside me. Irrational, I know, we’ve known each other less than a week but the depth of what I feel for him unsettles me. It’s more than I ever thought I could, more than I ever expected.
Unable to bear the sight, I retreat back into the room. The bed greets me with silence, its emptiness stark. I slip beneath the blanket, but it feels cold without him, colder than the river ever was.