“I can feel you, Braizen. I can feel your tongue all over me.”

His voice flattens. “I can feel you too, and I want more. I want to be inside of you.”

My body shakes against the cold stone; wetness drenches my fingers as I lower them.

“Idalia, let me inside of you.”

I slip in two fingers, breaking the tight seal, and enter the threshold of my inner self. I whimper as he spreads me open and forces himself deeper. Taking in every inch of me, he slides in and out, both raw and graceful, as if I were made for him and him alone.

His breath is hot against my cheek, and his scent lingers with mine as he seems to hover over me. Thrust after thrust until I can’t possibly take it any longer. Heat twines around my limbs, and I convulse as the tip of his cock sweeps against the top half of my canal. A spot so sweet, a place so delicate…I can’t…I can’t breathe.

His blue eyes burn above me, and I see a gold-laced trail of sparks shoot across his irises. The sky fires that Lachlan ignited for Sera pale in comparison to the explosions building in me.

Braizen shouts my name like a vow. I join him, repeating his name like an unanswered prayer.

I’ve never felt anything so good, so real, so…

Together, we shatter.

Slivers of emotion flitter to the ground, shards of the pleasure and anger that once made up an imperfect mirror, one that reflected our broken silhouettes and forbidden desires.

I lie empty on the floor, my arms limp. Pebbles of sweat from my brow coast towards my eyes. Thoughts of his body lying so close to mine pull at my flesh like the roots of a tree desperate for moisture.

The Lady’s words ring in my head, a reminder of our forbidden fate.

They could have been a strong, unmovable tree, but they will never have the chance to bloom.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

Braizen

I don’t move as Idalia gathers her dress. I stare blankly at the crumbling stone walls and the water droplets lingering amidst the moss. Not the most promising place for a first encounter, but certainly not my worst.

Once she’s somewhat clothed, I grab my trousers and focus on breathing normally, so I don’t give away how desperately my mind is searching for clarity.

She stands still, her dress loose around her, corset in hand. We stare at each other; our faces are utterly void of readable expressions.

What are you feeling, Little Sparrow? Talk to me.

She must be silent out of embarrassment, so I save her by speaking first.

“How are you…” I cough nervously. “How was that?” Oh, gods. I can’t find the right words. “Do you think…”