It's still difficult for me to understand how it all began... and how we ended up like this.
The world outside was a stunning, violent canvas of pink and crimson, a sunset bleeding over the distant water. It was breathtaking—agonizingly so—as if the sky itself mourned the reckless surrender of hearts. The beauty was cruel, like the very moment I now lived in: intoxicating, yet steeped in guilt.
I had finally acknowledged my love—not in whispered confessions or tentative glances, but in the raw, unguarded defeat of my own resistance. My heart had fought valiantly, waged a battle against reason and propriety... and lost. The taste of that surrender lingered like iron on my tongue, sharp and biting. I could still feel the residual sting of my own defeat, and it mingled strangely with the rush of desire.
Everything was magnified—the soft SQUEEZE of his hand, the warmth of his body pressed into mine, the way our breaths tangled in the air, shallow and urgent. Each KISS was a jolt, electric and consuming, a language we hadn't yet learned to speak aloud but somehow understood perfectly.
We knew so little of each other in truth—our histories, our fears, the private corners of our minds—but the intimacy of this moment bypassed knowledge. It was pure, unfiltered, and dangerous. Every brush of his lips against mine, every lingering touch, felt illicit. It thrilled and terrified me in equal measure, like teetering on the edge of something forbidden.
I could almost hear the future whispering to me through the press of his body, a cautionary murmur: that nothing comes without consequence. And yet, the thrill overpowered reason. I let myself melt into the closeness, leaning further, pressing into him with a mixture of surrender and need.
The red glow of the dim room wrapped around us, painting our skin in shades of fire and shadow. Our shared sighs, the subtle moans that slipped past my lips, seemed impossibly intimate, impossibly exposed. And yet, I could not pull away. I didn't want to. The fear, the exhilaration, the delicious wrongness of it all bound me to him as surely as our hands, our mouths, our bodies entwined.
Even now, I could feel the warning in the back of my mind, whispering that this surrender would demand a price. But in the heat of the moment, I could not care. I let myself lean in, deeper still, sighing into the chaos of our desire. Every heartbeat screamed the same truth: there was no turning back.
This was forbidden. This was dangerous. This was utterly, achingly ours. And I wanted it.
I felt the press of his lips—desperate, commanding, unrelenting. He was Eiser. And this feeling, this overwhelming pull, was addictive, provocative, dangerous. My lips… they throbbed, stinging from the pressure, from the traces of blood I hadn't even realized were there.
Then, just as abruptly, he pulled back. The separation was almost cruel in its suddenness, and I looked up, meeting the intensity of his gaze—dark, sharp, all-consuming.
"I told you to break that bad habit of biting your lips. You have no one but yourself to blame."
His voice was calm, measured, yet there was an undercurrent of command that made my heart skip. Then, almost tenderly, he used his finger to WIPE the residual trace of blood from my mouth. The contact sent a shiver through me.
My lips throbbed. And yet, more than that—the thought that Eiser might not enjoy the taste of my blood in his mouth, that he might find it unpleasant… it unsettled me. It bothered me in a way I didn't want to admit.
Then, without warning, the kiss resumed. Deeper this time, more insistent. I felt myself sway, losing all sense of control, melting into the sensation. Closer… closer… I was pulled into him, and even my muffled "MMPH!" barely contained itself when he commanded, "…open your mouth a bit more."
The tension between us was so thick I could almost touch it, suffocating and electrifying all at once. Every soft BITE, every momentary STING of his lips against mine, felt like punishment—but it heightened the thrill, the illicitness of what we were doing. My body responded before my mind could protest, and a shiver of forbidden excitement ran down my spine.
A soft, echoing KISS punctuated the quiet of the room. And in that quiet, every sound—the faint brush of lips, the sigh of air, the small thrum of our hearts—felt impossibly loud. It made the moment feel exposed, strange, almost unbearably intimate.
Then, unexpectedly, he stood. Abruptly. Firmly. I was swept up in his arms, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried me across the room. The STRIDE of his movement was steady, confident, unyielding, each step measured yet inevitable. Golden light spilled through the window, illuminating our path, turning every shadow into a flame. It felt like a beacon guiding us to a destination I already knew we were heading toward—the bed.
This dangerous, intoxicating new love, born of surrender, passion, and the sharp, metallic taste of blood, was pulling me under completely. There was no turning back. Every fiber of me surrendered to the storm he brought with him.
He carried me until the edge of the bed. We tumbled onto the soft mattress together with a muted FLOP, the sudden jolt sending a shiver through me. My breath caught in my throat, and I could only PANT, trying to steady the racing rhythm of my heart. Every part of me was acutely aware of his presence—of the weight of his body pressing against mine, the heat radiating from him, the undeniable closeness that made my pulse hammer in response.
I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, those piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. I had always believed they were ice cold, detached, untouchable. But now… now they were heated, burning with an intensity that seemed almost tangible. They glowed like a blue flame, bright and scorching, growing hotter the longer they held me in their gaze. To think that his eyes could look like this… it was almost terrifying, almost intoxicating.
He leaned in, close enough that I could feel the faint brush of his breath against my lips, his voice low and smooth. "Got a lot on your mind? Why, are you regretting it now? Why are you staring at me like that?"
I swallowed hard, heat rising to my cheeks, my voice barely more than a breathless whisper. "A lot on my mind? I'm thinking about one thing and one thing only."
My pulse thundered in my ears, and my words tumbled out in a rush, unguarded and urgent: "I want to..."
"And what would–?" he began, his lips curling slightly as he leaned even closer, but the moment shattered before he could finish.
A distinct STEP echoed from the hallway, followed by another. The sound of approaching feet on the floor instantly froze the air around us, as though the world had suddenly contracted to the small space of the bed. I grabbed his arm instinctively, pulling him closer, my voice a hushed whisper, tremulous with panic. "Hey… I think someone's outside."
We lay perfectly still, barely daring to breathe, listening. The faint creak of floorboards drew nearer, each step amplified in the quiet room. Then, a voice called out from beyond the closed door—loud, clear, professional, entirely oblivious to the storm it had interrupted:
"HELLO THERE! I BROUGHT THE ITEMS YOU REQUESTED. IS NO ONE HOME?"
The words seemed to sweep through the room, scanning every corner, obliterating the fragile intimacy we had been wrapped in. The moment of raw, burning desire had been utterly destroyed—dashed to fragments by a delivery man's innocuous mistake, probably a miscommunication with the staff. My face must have been crimson, my earlier boldness evaporated in embarrassment.
Eiser's eyes, which had been blazing just moments ago, now held a different fire—one cold and dangerous, a blue flame banked beneath layers of restrained irritation. His body tensed subtly, but he said nothing, waiting, calculating. We remained frozen, hearts pounding in tandem, until the footsteps finally retreated, leaving the room echoing with the lingering tension of interrupted heat.
We waited in a breathless silence, the room holding its own suspense, until the sound of retreating footsteps faded completely. The quiet that followed felt thick, almost tangible, pressing against my ears, my chest, my very thoughts.
Eiser shifted his weight above me, and I felt the subtle press of his body, the quiet authority in the way he leaned closer. A second later, a low, heavy sigh escaped from the door. Even through the wood, I recognized the muffled tone of the delivery man's voice:
"I was told to put this in front of the room door... but for which room?"
Another sigh followed, irritated and weary.
"Not the room door... I explicitly told them to come quietly and leave it by the front door."
The miscommunication was confirmed. My eyes flicked to the shadow of a bag left by the door, framed by the bright morning light streaming in, a stark reminder of how close we had come to discovery.
Before I could process the near-catastrophe, Eiser moved again. His irritation faded quickly, replaced by a possessive intensity that made my pulse jump. He pinned me to the mattress, one hand firm against the curve of my neck, and began to lean in.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I gasped, my hands pushing against his chest. "GET OFF— HNNGH!"
My protest barely registered. His lips found my shoulder and collarbone in a powerful, consuming KISS, cutting off my words.
"SERIOUSLY?! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? STOP... IT! SOMEONE'S RIGHT OUTSIDE!" I whispered furiously, panic threading through every syllable, my fingers clawing at his arms.
The only response was another KISS, this one sliding into an even more sensitive spot, making my body shiver against him.
"THEN KEEP QUIET," he growled, his voice a low, vibrating command near my ear, and I could feel the vibration through the curve of his jaw.
I bit my lip to suppress a sound. "Not that I don't love hearing you make those noises... but you're going to get us caught," I whispered, a mixture of fear and longing coiling tight inside me.
The fear, the urgency, the constant threat of discovery—it all magnified the sensation, making it wildly intoxicating. I felt myself losing the last shreds of resistance, my body betraying the rational part of my mind that screamed caution.
Eiser pulled back slightly, his eyes dark, a mixture of passion and caution, the intense blue of his irises seeming to drink in the cool light of the room.
"LET ME ASK YOU ONE LAST THING BEFORE WE KEEP GOING." His voice was steady, absolute, demanding attention. "ARE YOU SURE YOU WON'T REGRET THIS? IF YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THIS, JUST TELL ME. ONCE WE START, I DON'T THINK I'LL BE ABLE TO STOP."
I closed my eyes, a soft SIGH escaping me. My body felt heavy with the desire that had been building since our first kiss, every nerve ending alight. There was no turning back now.
"ONCE WE START? ISN'T THIS IT?" I murmured, opening my eyes to meet his gaze, confused. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, STOP? YOU'VE ALREADY DONE IT ALL."
He paused, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his features. His eyes scanned my fully clothed body, the state of the room, and I could see him reassessing the entire scene in a single heartbeat.
His internal monologue was almost audible in the tension of the moment: "WHAT IS SHE TALKING ABOUT? DID WHAT? ALL I DID WAS KISS HER NECK A LITTLE."
A slight, wry smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, arrogant yet somehow endearing. "THERE'S NO NEED TO ACT INNOCENT," he murmured.
But I wasn't acting. The kisses, the blood, the danger—for me, it was already everything. I had already surrendered my heart, my reason, my future. Every beat of my pulse screamed it. I was lost.
I looked at him, still sprawled on the bed, my pulse still racing from the earlier intensity. "There's no need to act innocent," he'd said, his voice laced with a playful challenge that somehow made my skin crawl and tingle all at once.
"Act… innocent?" My frustration flared, a mix of embarrassment and indignation boiling over. I shoved against his chest, forcing myself upright with an angry SPRING. "GET OFF ME. What did you just say? WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO?!"
A tense silence followed, stretching long enough that I could hear the faint thrum of my own heartbeat. Eiser, who had been leaning over me moments ago, blinked at my outburst. The blue of his eyes widened slightly, the faintest TWITCH near his temple betraying his confusion, though he made no move.
…! DON'T TELL ME… YOU'RE A…?
I felt my cheeks heat up, a mixture of frustration and panic bubbling through me. His expression—part perplexity, part something unreadable—was a mirror reflecting my own embarrassment back at me. I knew vaguely what he was thinking, and I couldn't stop myself from defending my ignorance.
"OF COURSE, I KNEW THAT TWO PEOPLE WHO LIKE EACH OTHER KISSED AND CARESSED EACH OTHER'S BODIES," I blurted, defensive, breathless, my hands fisting slightly at my sides. "AND LATER, I LEARNED FROM EXPERIENCE THAT MEN MIGHT BECOME PHYSICALLY EXCITED IN THE PROCESS."
My mind flitted to Frederick, the last time I'd had a similar conversation.
Oh… Eiser's reacting the same way. THAT'S THE EXACT EXPRESSION FREDERICK HAD ON HIS FACE WHEN THINGS WERE PROGRESSING SIMILARLY BETWEEN US ONE NIGHT AND I TOLD HIM SOMETHING TO THE SAME EFFECT. He had seemed utterly taken aback, a mix of disbelief and incredulity.
The memory of Frederick's reaction, now mirrored in Eiser's intense blue gaze, made me cringe. WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS GIVE ME THAT LOOK ON THEIR FACE WHEN THIS SUBJECT COMES UP? IT MAKES ME FEEL EMBARRASSED AND UPSET. I wanted to sink into the mattress and hide, but I forced myself to hold my ground.
Eiser slowly sat back, shaking his head slightly, a small laugh escaping him—a puff of exasperated air rather than amusement.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS? YOU'RE 22 YEARS OLD… YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS STUFF," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. His tone was incredulous, as if he thought I was joking or deliberately being obtuse.
I frowned, looking down at my hands. He was right. I should know. But my mind had always been occupied elsewhere, wrapped up in other things, other priorities, and this—this awkward, delicate territory—had been largely unexplored.
When Frederick first realized something similar, he had paused, thoughtful, then seemed to consider saying more—but remained silent. Judging by that reaction, I had assumed there might be something else, some next step I had yet to learn. But that was all I knew.
I raised my chin, defiant. I might be ignorant in some ways, but I was not childish. I was ready to learn. And if I was to learn anything… it would be with Eiser.
It's still difficult for me to understand how it all began… and how we ended up like this.
It was the love I had only acknowledged after brutally losing the battle against my own heart—a surrender that left a sting deep in my chest, aching like punishment for the defeated. Even now, I could taste it—the thick, sharp metallic tang of blood lingering on my lips, a visceral reminder of the intensity of that first surrender. The feeling was heady, intoxicating, a collision of unease and desire, like a dangerous addiction I could not resist.
I remembered the gentle, demanding pressure of his lips—the SLIDE and SQUEEZE, the careful insistence that left me trembling. I had thought, while it may not be sweet or beautiful… perhaps that is all the more reason our kiss puts me on edge… as if I'm doing something forbidden… something I might one day regret… The thought both thrilled and terrified me, every nerve alive with the memory.
When he had broken the kiss, chastising me with that familiar calm authority, "I told you to break that bad habit of biting your lips. You have no one but yourself to blame," I had felt that sting anew—not just the physical sensation, but the vulnerability it exposed. As he wiped the blood from my lips, I thought, My lips… are stinging. AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, EISER'S PROBABLY NOT ENJOYING THE TASTE OF MY BLOOD IN HIS MOUTH EITHER… IT BOTHERS ME.
His eyes—those mesmerizing blue eyes I had always believed to be cold and untouchable—were burning. THOSE BLUE EYES… TO THINK THEY COULD LOOK THAT HEATED… LIKE A BLUE FLAME THAT GETS HOTTER AS IT BURNS… I had never imagined them like this, a fire mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.
In that heated, desperate moment, when he pressed me down, he asked, "GOT A LOT ON YOUR MIND? WHY, ARE YOU REGRETTING IT NOW? WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME LIKE THAT?"
I answered with raw honesty, words tumbling from me breathlessly: "A LOT ON MY MIND? I'M THINKING ABOUT ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY. I WANT TO…"
And then came the interruption—a miscommunication by the staff, the footsteps outside, the sudden intrusion that shattered the fragile bubble of intimacy. Our conversation on the bed that followed, his incredulity at my inexperience, left me flushed and defensive. NO! NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT ANY OF THIS! I cried internally, the heat draining from my face as my ignorance was laid bare.
I thought about the expectations placed upon us, the rigid customs of our world. IT WAS CUSTOMARY DURING THE KINGDOM'S COMING-OF-AGE CEREMONY SEASON FOR FAMILIES TO TEACH THE CHILDREN APPROACHING ADULTHOOD ABOUT SEX AND ALCOHOL. But for me, it had been different. DURING THE COMING-OF-AGE FESTIVAL SEASON, I HAD NEITHER A TUTOR NOR MY MOM AROUND TO TEACH ME THAT STUFF… I CUT OFF CONTACT WITH EVERYONE I KNEW AND SHUT MYSELF UP AT HOME.
My fingers clenched the sheet, frustrated, tense. AND IT… FELT A BIT STRANGE TO ASK EITHER GRANDMOTHER OR SUI ABOUT IT. I knew it sounded ridiculous to anyone else, to Eiser even, but it was the painful truth of my isolated life. THIS IS WHY I HATE TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF. I FEEL LIKE IT ONLY SERVES TO CONFIRM THE FACT THAT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY FAMILY THEN.
As I watched him process this, the gravity of my past pressed down on me. I remembered the danger that always lurked nearby—the reason my life had never been simple. The doctor's warning echoed through my mind, a caution that weighed on both of us: BUT WHAT DR. ASTANCE SAID BACK THEN… YOU MUST BE CAREFUL THAT LADY SERENA DOESN'T GET PREGNANT.
Eiser's face shifted, losing the playful arrogance that had been his shield, settling into a grave contemplation. I could see the weight of responsibility pressing on him now, the awareness that our connection carried consequences far beyond a single kiss. In that moment, I realized that this dangerous intimacy—the desire, the stolen moments, the blood, the heat—was about more than just passion. It was a responsibility, a fragile thread connecting our pasts and the uncertain future that awaited us.
I let out a frustrated HUFF of breath, throwing my head back as if the motion could shake off the weight pressing on me. "IT'S PERFECTLY UNDERSTANDABLE. IT ISN'T STRANGE, AND I DON'T THINK IT IS, SO CALM DOWN." My words were partly directed at Eiser, partly at myself—an attempt to defend my ignorance, to justify the isolation I had imposed on myself for so long.
He remained silent, watching me, his blue eyes fixed and unflinching, processing my confession of innocence with that measured patience that both infuriated and unnerved me.
"AND GIVEN THAT THE VERY EXISTENCE OF THE SERENITY FAMILY WAS ON THE LINE AT THE TIME, I DOUBT ANYONE HAD THE WHEREWITHAL TO WORRY ABOUT SUCH THINGS," I continued, bitterness rising in my throat. My family's survival had consumed every ounce of attention, every resource, every thought—and now it seemed even my inexperience was yet another burden.
I closed my eyes, trying to quell the anger, trying to steady my pulse. The laws of the kingdom were cold and rigid, and yet I couldn't blame anyone entirely. I WONDER WHAT THE OTHER NOBLE GIRLS WOULD DO IF THEY WERE IN THE SAME SITUATION AS ME… I thought, a fleeting pang of envy tugging at my chest. I'M SURE THEY WOULD HAVE ACTED JUST AS I DID.
A sudden sound made me snap my eyes open—RATTLE, RATTLE. Eiser was moving.
"WHY ARE YOU UP?" I asked, cautious, my heartbeat hitching. I watched him RISE, his form silhouetted against the bright window, the morning light painting him in sharp angles and shadows.
His expression had shifted. The fire and heat that had dominated his gaze earlier were gone, replaced by a calm, deliberate purpose. "WELL, IT'S NOT BECAUSE I'M DISAPPOINTED OR ANYTHING. I'M GOING TO GO GET MY THINGS."
My stomach twisted at his words. Get his things? Is he leaving? My voice barely rose above a whisper. "Y-your things?"
He stepped away from the bed, the familiar arrogance replaced with a formality that made my chest tighten. "IT SEEMS I NEED TO TEACH YOU PROPERLY, FROM THE GROUND UP. LET'S JUST SAY, YOU ARE MY FIRST OFFICIAL STUDENT."
My jaw dropped. A student? Was he serious? I'M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR JOKES.
Eiser walked over to a nearby table and picked up a large, leather-bound book I immediately recognized as his travel guide. He flipped it open with precision—FLIP, FLIP, FLIP—like he was preparing for a campaign rather than a casual lesson.
"I'LL BE LOOKING FOR INFORMATION ON THE CUSTOMS AND CEREMONIES RELATED TO ADULTHOOD AND MARRIAGE OF THE SERENITY ROYALTY." He gave me a direct, unwavering look, entirely serious. "I'M GOING TO FIND ALL THE INFORMATION YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED AND TEACH YOU EVERYTHING."
I sank back onto the bed, feeling utterly overwhelmed. This wasn't amusement, this wasn't casual curiosity—he was determined. Eiser was going to use his intellect, his position, and sheer willpower to correct my social ignorance as if it were a critical state matter, a crisis that demanded immediate action.
WHAT DOES HE WANT FROM ME? I wondered, my previous irritation melting into a weary resignation. First, he had kissed me; then he had teased me with a near departure; and now… he intended to tutor me in every custom, every duty, every nuance I had missed. I WAS ALREADY TIRED OF BEING SURPRISED BY HIM, BUT HE ALWAYS SURPRISES ME.
This man—Eiser—was relentless. He would not relent. He would educate me on my own history, my obligations, my life. He would teach me everything I had missed, whether I was ready or not, whether I wanted it or not.
I watched Eiser settle at the table with his guidebook, the soft RUSTLE of turning pages replacing the heavy silence that had followed my confession. He was serious—truly going to research my family's lost customs just to teach me. The thought made my chest tighten in a strange mix of awe and apprehension.
I was already tired of being surprised by him, but he always surprises me. The thought lingered as I recalled the doctor's grave warning: YOU MUST BE CAREFUL THAT LADY SERENA DOESN'T GET PREGNANT. The danger had never been abstract, yet here he was, pausing a moment of overwhelming desire, taking on a task purely for my well-being and education.
A sudden flush rose to my cheeks, hot and insistent, not just from earlier passion but from the simple, unexpected kindness of his action.
"I DON'T WANT TO BE TAUGHT BY YOU. THIS IS TOO EMBARRASSING. I'LL FIND A TUTOR MYSELF," I said, my protest sounding weak even to me, a futile attempt to salvage some shred of dignity.
Eiser didn't glance up from the book, his focus absolute, each movement precise and deliberate. Then he spoke, calm, authoritative, the same tone he used when discussing matters of state or logistics:
"FIND A TUTOR? YOU CAN'T EVEN BE TRUSTED TO KEEP YOUR OWN SECRETS. YOU'RE JUST GOING TO COMPLICATE THINGS AGAIN."
His words stung sharply. Of course he was right. My true identity as the heir of Serenity was a secret I guarded fiercely, and finding a tutor who could teach me without prying dangerously into that secret was impossible.
"BUT…" I began, voice barely above a whisper, fumbling for an argument, for any semblance of choice.
Eiser finally looked up, his penetrating blue eyes locking onto mine, unwavering and final. "NO BUTS. I'M GOING TO DO IT, SO JUST ACCEPT IT." His command left no room for negotiation.
He pointed toward the stack of clothes on the nearby chair. "GO CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES. IT'S UNCOMFORTABLE TO SEE YOU LYING AROUND LIKE THAT."
I glanced down at my disheveled blouse, my cheeks burning anew. I THOUGHT I'D FEEL BETTER IF I ARGUED BACK. BUT ALL I FEEL IS MORE EMBARRASSED…
With a defeated LEAN, I dropped my head back onto the pillows. My body was still humming with unspent energy, and my mind reeled from the abrupt shift—from raw intimacy to the rigid formalities of instruction.
Eiser—my lover—was now my unexpected royal tutor.
As I lay there, utterly exhausted, completely exposed, I finally conceded. He was right. I couldn't trust anyone else with this secret. And he was the only person capable of managing both the political danger of my identity and the physical danger of our relationship.
I suppose this is what happens when a princess who neglected her education falls in love with the kind of man who carries a travel guide everywhere—someone who refuses to let her ignorance remain unchallenged, and who will turn even a moment of passion into a lesson in responsibility and survival.
"I… I just…" I stammered, my cheeks flaming, my hands trembling as I buried my face, desperate to hide the wave of mortification that washed over me. The implication of the other lady's brazen remark hit me fully now, and I realized just how exposed I was. That's not what I was getting at… I tried to explain, but even forming the words felt like plunging myself deeper into an endless pit of embarrassment.
I peeked up at him, summoning the courage to form a coherent thought. "Uh, umm…" My voice barely rose above a squeak. "I was just trying to tell you what that lady said to me… and… it wasn't specifically referring to you…"
He remained inches from me, leaning in, his presence overwhelming. The sharp scent of his crisp shirt mixed with something raw, dangerously masculine, wrapping around me like a tangible force. My heart pounded, drumming an erratic rhythm against my ribs. Why are you coming closer? I wanted to scream, but only a shaky whisper escaped.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied me, a subtle shift in expression crossing his handsome face as the full weight of my clumsy explanation seemed to settle over him.
"I see…" His voice rumbled low, vibrating through my chest, a dangerous resonance that left me breathless. "So that's the full story."
His gaze lingered, sharp and deliberate, his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smirk that sent heat flickering through me. It wasn't amusement I felt—it was possession, predatory and consuming.
"So? Are you curious?" His words dripped with suggestion, twisting the innocent meaning of my explanation into something charged, impossible to ignore.
"What?" I breathed, lost and dizzy. My mind had been recounting her scandalous offer, and now… his words warped it all into something new, something intoxicating.
"I see…" he repeated, this time with the faintest crinkle at the corner of his eyes, a dark glint I couldn't decipher. The silence that followed was suffocating, each second weighted with unspoken meaning. His gaze shifted to my lips, and I licked them unconsciously, a nervous reflex that betrayed me completely.
A shadow of danger flickered in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath brushing over my ear in a whisper that made my skin shiver. "I didn't think I'd end up teaching you this, too…" His voice was husky, low, and intimate, pulling me in deeper with each word.
He pulled back slightly, meeting my eyes again, the fire in his gaze scorching away all remnants of my prior embarrassment. "...But if you're that desperate to know, Princess…"
The single word—Princess—uttered in that tone, stripped me of any coherent thought, leaving me trembling with a mix of shock and anticipation. "I'd be more than willing to instruct you all night."
"WHAT? HOW—" I began, my body rigid with terror and an electric, thrilling excitement. Before I could finish, his hand slid down, long fingers trailing over my leg, feather-light yet impossibly potent, stealing my breath entirely.
He was above me now, every inch of his body close, the intensity of his presence overwhelming. His face was a perfect mask of devastating intent. "Do you want me to start now?" he asked, his voice smooth, commanding, impossible to resist.
I could do nothing but stare, utterly captivated, my world narrowed to the piercing blue of his eyes and the powerful man looming over me. The air felt thick, charged, and electric. I knew, with a certainty that made my pulse hammer against my ribs, that I had walked right into a delicious, inescapable trap.