Chapter 32 #2
Every inch of her body revealed was a shock to my senses, but what struck me hardest was how she watched me—not with fear, but with a soft, growing certainty. When I reached her wings, I paused. The moonlight caught on the delicate feathers, turning them silver.
My gaze locked onto her. “Are you sure?”
Her small nod was all the permission I needed. I drew the gown over her head, like unveiling something precious, and guided it gently around the arch of her wings, careful not to disturb even a single feather. The muscles beneath her skin fluttered at the contact, and she gasped.
My chest tightened.
She wasn’t just trusting me with her body. She was trusting me with her wings—something just as fragile.
When the gown finally slipped free, I tossed it to the floor.
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move. She lay there beneath me, completely bare, completely open, and instead of covering herself or looking away, she held my gaze.
Trust.
That’s what I saw.
Not seduction. Not performance.
Just trust—raw and quiet and fragile.
My breath trembled out of me. I didn’t let my eyes roam; I kept them on hers, giving her the chance to guide what happened next. If she shifted, if she hesitated, if she so much as breathed like she wanted space, I would’ve stopped instantly.
But she didn’t.
She lifted her chin ever so slightly, almost defiant, as though daring me to flinch away from what she was giving. A broken heart. Scars and all.
“I see you . . . all of you, and I’m not going anywhere,” I murmured, tracing a single finger down her sternum, between her breasts.
She gasped and reached for me. Her mouth crashed into mine with a need so desperate, it stole air from my lungs. I met her with the same level of want.
Every brush of her lips, every flick of her tongue, sent heat flooding through my veins. I wanted to touch her everywhere at once.
The kiss broke. Our mouths hovered apart, breaths colliding—hers quick and shaky, mine ragged from biting back all the instinct that begged me to take more. Then she surged up and kissed me again, harder, making my resolve fracture at the seams.
Her hands wrapped around my chest, nails digging into my back with a steady possession before they raked upward, tracing the lines of muscle along my spine. I shuddered, unable to hide it. No one touched me like that—no one touched me there.
Then her fingers reached the edges of my wings.
The breath punched out of me in a low, uncontrollable sound.
My wings flexed instinctively, stretching ever so slightly beneath her touch. Not to pull away—never that.
To feel more.
“Sapphire . . .” I whispered against her ear, a warning or a plea, I couldn’t tell the difference.
Her fingers grazed along the ridge where wing met flesh. The sensation was devastating. My entire body tightened, my breath stuttering as heat rolled outward from the place her touch ignited.
I wasn’t prepared for how sensitive it would be. How vulnerable. How utterly disarming.
She stroked the arch of my wing again, feather-light, and my hands planted on either side of her head just to keep myself from collapsing onto her.
“You like that,” she murmured, half in wonder.
“I—” I swallowed hard, struggling for air, struggling for words. “You have no idea.”
She smiled up at me then, and I nearly blacked out. “By the stars, you are beautiful.”
Gone were any cohesive thoughts I’d had before. She was undoing me every second that passed. I hadn’t let myself dream of this, but a part of my heart had hoped that maybe, just maybe, one day she might want me like this.
“You can touch me too,” she whispered against my lips as she drew me closer. “I won’t break.”
It was all the permission I needed to drag my lips across her jaw, down the side of her neck, before kissing across her left collar bone. She arched into me, pressing our bodies closer. My lips finally found a pink, taut nipple.
I sucked it between my teeth, drawing a gasp from her. She buried her hands into my hair and moaned. Heat shot straight through me, causing my cock to jerk.
She was going to undo me entirely.
And I wanted her to.
I let my hand caress her waist, back and forth in gentle motions, giving her every chance to stop me. When she didn’t, I moved lower. Her skin was warm, soft, and alive. And the way she inhaled as my fingers moved between the apex of her thighs, told me she felt every crackle of energy between us.
She was perfection personified.
“Is this alright?” I whispered.
She nodded, breath unsteady. “Yes.”
Her lips parted. Her wings shivered beneath her. She lifted her hips slightly, not to hurry me—just reacting.
“Tell me if anything is too much,” I murmured.
“It’s not,” she breathed. “It’s . . . perfect.”
I moaned the moment my fingers felt her wet warmth. I’d only ever been with a few women back in The Grey. Here in Lucius, it had been all but stolen kisses on night’s out with River and Blue.
No one here had ever taken my fancy enough for it to proceed into tumbling into a woman's bed.
She gripped the sides of my face with her hands and dragged me back up. “I think you’re going to need to lose the trousers.”
Heat bloomed up my cheeks at the realisation that I was still partially dressed. “Oh, yeah.”
I eased back, tugged my pants down, and kicked them aside without caring where they landed. All that mattered was getting back to her, and I did—immediately.
Her eyes flicked to my hardened length, and suddenly, I felt shy. Like she wouldn’t like what she saw or perhaps she would be frightened of being with me, or it wouldn’t be what she wanted . . . to be with another man.
I made a move to angle my hips so my cock wasn’t so prominent. When my gaze found her again, she was smiling.
“What?” I said, shuffling to settle lightly over her.
She pushed up to lean on an elbow, her other hand slipping between our bodies. “You don’t have to hide anything from me,” she murmured, taking my length in her grasp.
I moaned when she tugged it. Her touch nearly shattered my control.
“Careful.” I dropped my head to press my lips against her mouth. “I’m already holding on by a thread with you.”
She smiled, letting go to drop back on the mattress.
Her legs shifted with confidence. She slid them along my sides until her thighs framed my hips fully, pulling me closer. My breath stuttered.
“You’re sure?” I whispered, voice cracked and tight.
She looked up at me with a softness that melted me on the spot. “Take me,” she breathed. “I’m ready.”
Her hand slipped down between us—not touching me directly, but guiding, positioning, showing me exactly where she wanted me. I steadied myself with hands either side of her shoulders.
I looked down between us as I aligned myself with her, letting her guide the angle, the closeness, the final inch that changed everything. She reached up to grip my hips and with a breath caught between us, I pushed the head of my length between her warm lips.
“By the light,” I moaned, pushing in further.
Sapphire gasped, her fingers digging into my skin as I moved. It was then I realised, with bone-deep certainty: this wasn’t just desire anymore. It was devotion.
I slid the rest of the way in, burying myself so deep that we became one. She let out a cry, arching her back as I pulled out and pushed back in. Her gaze fell on me, her eyes glistening with desire, and I couldn’t bear not having my lips on hers.
Leaning down, I caught her gasps and swallowed them, kissing her deeper, slower, letting my mouth coax hers open. Her fingers dragged across my skin, sending shivers through every nerve. Each soft sound she made against my lips tightened something low in my groin.