His thumb pressed into my clit, deliberate and unrelenting, as another finger eased its way inside. The extra combination of pressure sparked a sudden wave of heat so intense it felt like I’d been set alight. The tension that had coiled in like a spring snapped, sending plunging over the edge.
A ripple of flashing heat exploded through my body, white-hot and consuming, making my vision blur and the world narrow to nothing but him—his touch, his presence, the rciless way he pulled every ounce of pleasure from . My heart pounded in my chest, as if trying to catch up with the molten blood rushing through my veins.
His fingers continued to move, slow and teasing, prolonging every pulse and tremor as I ca down from the high. My body trembled under his hand, the slick sound of his movents making flush with equal parts embarrassnt and satisfaction. I panted, my chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, as a languid, warm calm spread through my limbs.
It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before—a sated, all-encompassing warmth that left utterly spent, yet still tethered to him. My thighs felt weak, my skin too sensitive, but I still didn’t want him to stop touching .
His mouth traced a path up my neck, lips brushing against my jaw as he exhaled softly. That intoxicating, masculine scent of his—sothing woodsy, dark, and altogether too addicting—hit like a shot of dopamine straight to the brain.
"You did good." His voice was low, soft, but still laced with that ever-present restraint. He kissed the corner of my mouth, his lips lingering just long enough to make my breath hitch. "But sadly, I can’t do much more of this or I might end up fucking you hard, darling. And I can’t do that. Not when you’re still recovering."
His words pulled back down to earth like a stone dropped into water. Oh.
I blinked up at him, my face burning. My body scread for more, every nerve begging him to break his own damn rules, but I didn’t say it. I didn’t have to. His sharp, knowing gaze locked onto mine, and I knew—he saw it all. The frustration, the want lingering behind my eyes.
For a long mont, neither of us moved. A breath of amusent escaped him, mixed with a low sound of frustration. He shook his head faintly, as if chastising himself for even letting things get this far. "You are quite a troublemaker," he muttered under his breath.
Before I could say a word, he leaned in and kissed —softly, lingering, his lips stealing whatever fight I might’ve worked up. When he pulled away, I chased his mouth instinctively, already craving more.
"Not now," he said, his voice more firm this ti. He smoothed a hand down my bare thigh as if to calm , then shifted carefully off his lap.
I let out a small, involuntary noise of protest as I settled on the bed. Without his warmth, the air felt cool against my sweat-dampened skin. I watched him rise to his feet, his movents fluid and deliberate as he adjusted his garnt. He looked as put-together as ever—sharp lines, dark fabric, not a hair out of place—while I felt like a ss, sprawled half naked on the bed with my body still buzzing from him.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath that sounded heavier than he intended. "I’ll call for the maid to co wash you up."
I flinched at that, my brow furrowing. "I don’t need—"
"It’s not up for debate," he said simply, his tone final. He turned toward the door without looking back, and sothing in bristled at the abruptness of it all.
Was that it?
I stared at his broad back as he walked to the door, my fingers curling into the soft fabric beneath . He was leaving—just like that—after unraveling so thoroughly I felt like I didn’t know up from down anymore.
"Wait." The word slipped out before I could stop it, barely more than a whisper.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze cutting back to . There it was again—that smirk, cool and composed, as if none of this had affected him in the slightest. But I knew better. I’d felt it in the way he touched , the way he pulled apart with his hands and mouth like he’d been starving.
"You can’t—" My voice caught, and I swallowed hard. "You can’t just leave."
He tilted his head slightly, like he wasn’t sure he heard right.
I sat up straighter, ignoring the way my body protested. "I can take... I can take it"
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he considered my words. For a long beat, he said nothing, and I thought maybe he’d just leave anyway. But then he let go of the door and turned fully back to .
He stepped closer, and despite the fact I wasn’t completely naked, I felt exposed again under his gaze. "I know you can. That’s not the point. You are still recovering."
"I’m not that weak!" I challenged, lifting my chin slightly.
What the fuck is wrong with you Layla.
Why are you ask him to have sex with you!
I felt my cheek burn and quickly looked away.
He chuckled softly and he crouched down so he was level with . The shift in his posture made my breath falter, because up close like this, the intensity of him was overwhelming.
His thumb brushed my cheek, the touch featherlight. "I’ll give you everything, darling. But not yet."
And just like that, he stood again, the mont shattered.
"I’ll leave you to it," he said, turning once more for the door.
The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone in the heavy silence, my thoughts swirling like a storm.
~
The knock at the door jolted out of my thoughts. My body, still aching with a languid heaviness, tensed at the sound. It can’t be him. No. He wouldn’t—surely he wouldn’t co back so soon after leaving like that. My throat tightened as the knock ca again, this ti a little louder.
"Co in," I said, voice cracking as I tried to sound composed.
The door creaked open, and the maid entered with a familiar quiet grace, but the mont her gaze landed on , I wished the earth would swallow whole. My body stiffened, my back pressing further into the headboard as I tried—and failed—not to look ashad.
She gave a polite bow, but as she straightened, I could see the slightest hesitation in her eyes. Her nose twitched, as if she’d already caught it—. The lingering scent of what had happened here only monts ago. Heat rose up my neck like a fire threatening to consu .
"I’ve co to prepare your bath, my lady," she said softly, her tone practiced, neutral—yet there was sothing about the way her face flushed that made my sha ten tis worse.
She knows.
I turned my face away, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek as if the pain would keep grounded. This is his fault. My mind scrambled to bla him, but even as I thought it, I knew better. No one had forced into that mont, into those touches that left undone in ways I never imagined.
I chanced a glance at the maid, and that was my second mistake. Her cheeks were now tinged pink, her lips pressed tightly together to keep her expression neutral.
"I’ll have the bath ready as soon as possible," she said hurriedly, practically stumbling as she turned for the adjoining chamber where the bath was drawn.
If I thought I had been embarrassed before, I had been a fool. My mortification now felt alive—growing, clawing at my chest with each passing second.
My mind scread at . She can sll it. She knows. And she’ll think—
We didn’t even go all the way!
I buried my face in my hands, the heat of my palms offering no escape. This wasn’t the first ti sha had wrapped its claws around , but this? This was different.
I heard the soft splash of water from the other room as the maid filled the bath, and I risked another look toward the door. My sha flared tenfold when I thought of his majesty. His hands. His voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would sohow erase him from my mind.
The maid re-erged after what felt like an eternity. "The bath is ready, my lady," she said, her voice even but her eyes still carefully averted.
I nodded stiffly, barely trusting myself to move. My legs swung off the side of the bed, and for a mont, I was grateful to find they still worked. The maid waited a mont longer before stepping aside, giving room to pass into the adjoining chamber.
The bath was steaming, the faint scent of lavender mingling in the air. As I stepped toward the water, the maid cleared her throat softly. "Shall I assist you, my lady?"
I shook my head quickly, my voice sharper than I intended when I said, "No. Leave ."
The maid bowed again, this ti retreating fully. The sound of the door closing behind her echoed louder than it should have. I released a shaky breath, my shoulders slumping.
Alone.
The word felt heavier than it should have.
After pulling down every layers of my clothes, I sank into the tub until it enveloped completely. My muscles loosened, but my mind refused to let go of the tension coiling in my chest.
I tilted my head back against the rim of the tub, staring at the ceiling with a hollow sort of detachnt. The water should have been soothing, but the mory of his hands, his voice, his intoxicating presence, lingered.
"Ugh." I groaned out loud, covering my face with wet hands.
Why did I let him affect like this? Why did I let any of this happen?
And now, I wasn’t even sure I could face him again without dying of sha?
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