Page 71 of Hellebore

I break the kiss and force myself to step back. Her hands linger on my chest for one agonizing second before slipping away. The absence of her touch burns.

Outside the tall windows, the sun has slipped behind heavy clouds, draining the room of light. Shadows stretch across the black walls and pool in the corners. The massive gothic bed looms behind her, its dark purple drapes swaying gently in the draft. The air feels thicker now, charged with anticipation.

“Wait,” I murmur, my voice rougher than intended.

I move to the fireplace. The match strikes loud in the silence. Flames catch and dance, casting warm golden light across the room. Heat slowly presses back the chill, curling around us.

I pull out my phone and connect it to the hidden speakers in the dark wood ceiling. The first low, haunting notes of Sleep Token’s Chokehold fill the space, pulsing and heavy.

When I turn back to her, the sight nearly undoes me.

Her pupils are blown wide, black swallowing what little color remains in her eyes. Deep crimson stains her cheeks. Her lips look swollen from mine. She stands there—beautiful, exposed, and entirely mine.

“Undress for me,” I say, the words dragging low from my throat.

Her gaze drops to the thick outline of my cock straining against my jeans. My hands fist at my sides. The urge to throw her onto the bed and bury myself inside her in one brutal thrust surges through me, raw and violent.

I shove it down.

Her fingers move to the hem of her sweater. She pulls it slowly over her head. The fabric whispers as it falls. Her breasts come into view, nipples tight and flushed from the cool air and rising heat of the fire. Goosebumps ripple across her skin. Firelight dances over her bare shoulders and collarbones, painting her in shifting gold and shadows.

I watch every movement, every breath, every hesitation. My chest tightens. Ten years of wanting her, and now she stands here in the bedroom I built from every stolen detail I learned while watching her—the purple tones, the candles, the books, the fire.

Still, it isn’t enough. I want more. I want everything. I want to consume her so completely that she forgets a time before my hands touched her skin.

I take one slow step closer. My jaw clenches until the ache spreads down my neck.

“The rest,” I command, voice low and rough. My gaze drags down her body, tracing every curve the firelight carves across her skin, before returning to her eyes.

Her breasts rise and fall faster. Breathing shallow, she obeys without a word. Her fingers hook into the waistband of her sweatpants and slide them down. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the deep purple panties I chose for her.

“Drystan…” She says almost like a purr.

I hold her gaze as I grip the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. Cool air hits my heated skin, but it does nothing to quiet the fire beneath. Every muscle coils tighter.

I walk toward her. She tilts her head back to keep looking at me. When I reach her, I lower myself to my knees, never breaking eye contact. From here, I look up at her with the devotion I’ve carried in silence for years.

I reach up and rest my hands on her hips. “I will destroy anyone who tries to take you from me. Even if I have to destroy myself in the process. I will gladly burn in hell for you.”

A single tear slips down her cheek.

“How can you say those things?” she breathes.

I wipe the tear away with my thumb, then lean forward and press my forehead to her soft belly. I inhale her slowly, letting her warm scent flood my lungs. My hands slide up the backs of her thighs, gripping smooth skin.

“How can I? Oh my love, you have no idea how deep my feelings for you are.”

Another tear falls and I smile.

“Remember how gentle I am now,” I murmur against her stomach, pressing slow kisses across her flesh. “Because I will lose control and fuck you the way I’ve needed to for years.”

She gasps.

I kiss lower, pressing my mouth over the thin fabric of her panties, heat radiating from her skin. My fingers hook into the waistband and slide the lace down her legs. I trail kisses along her thighs as I bare her, until my mouth hovers just above her clit. I flick my tongue across the sensitive bud and circle it with deliberate pressure.

A broken sound escapes her. Her hands fly to my hair, nails digging into my scalp. The sting floods me with dark pleasure so sharp I nearly lose myself right there—on my knees, with her taste on my tongue.

Sleep Token pulses low through the room, heavy and haunting. I grip her thighs and pull her closer, devouring her with slow, unrelenting focus.