I lost, of course.
Against her, victory had never been an option. Not really.
Though I was taller, stronger, and had the advantage of being left-handed, Lady Claudia had always been my better by far. She was faster, more precise, and knew every trick and feint I had up my sleeve. Her footwork was flawless. Her strikes were swift, precise, and devastating. She didn't waste energy.
Ten touches against my four. And I'd barely even managed to land those. I'd have to chalk that up as my personal best, though. That had to count for something, right?
As we finished the bout, we both stepped back and saluted, fists coming up against our chests. I dropped my sword arm, feeling the burn in my lungs and the ache in my muscles. But I was smiling, too. The rush of the fight had set my blood pounding, and the familiar rhythm of our bouts had returned.
She didn't seem winded. Barely even winded, really. She wasn't even breathing heavily, though her chest rose and fell just a bit more deeply than usual. The faint sheen of sweat that covered her skin glistened in the dim light, and her brown hair clung to her forehead, the strands dark and damp.
"Four," she said, turning the blunted sword in her hand. "Perhaps I should begin considering your potential after all."
I managed a chuckle, running a forearm across my brow. "So I wasn't worth considering before?"
She shrugged, that hint of a smile pulling at her lips again. "Perhaps. Let us say that you were not previously a subject of concern." She gestured toward the racks where the weapons were kept. "Come now, we should put these away."
I followed her, setting my sword down on the rack. She set hers down beside mine, and as she turned to face me again, our eyes met.
I saw it, then: A flicker of something, there and gone in a heartbeat. A subtle shift of her gaze. The slight widening of her eyes. The way her lips parted, just a fraction, and her breath hitched.
Then she looked away. Quickly, too quickly. It was as if she couldn't bring herself to look at me anymore. As if my very presence was suddenly unbearable.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Ma'am..." I began, but my voice trailed off. I wasn't sure what to say. Or what I even could say.
She flinched away. Her eyes darted to the side. Her jaw clenched. She took a step back, her hands balled into fists. "I'm... I need to go. Good night, Ansel." Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode away.
My body ached in a strangely satisfying way—the sort of dull, lingering soreness that comes from a good, thorough exercise. I welcomed that exhaustion, the lingering fatigue that made my muscles feel like they were made of lead. It had been a good match, and I'd missed it more than I'd realized.
But I also felt restless, despite that. I found myself hesitating at the door of my quarters, my hand on the latch. The way Lady Claudia had looked at me, the way she had spoken to me, the way she had acted... it was all wrong. She hadn't been herself. Something had been off about her, something I couldn't quite place.
And then, there was that look.
The same one as before. That same, strange look in her eyes. Like she was afraid, or ashamed, or something else entirely. It was a look I hadn't seen on her before.
I couldn't pretend to not see it anymore. And I couldn't ignore it.
After a moment, I turned and walked away from the door, heading for her quarters instead. It was still early enough in the evening that several of the Levantine armsmen and staff were milling about, going about their own tasks. They paid little heed to me, save for a few polite nods. I returned them absently.
By the time I reached her door, I realized that... I didn't have a real plan. At least, nothing beyond, 'Excuse me, Your Excellency, but you've been acting weird. What the hell is up with that?' Yeah. That was sure to work out great. She'd probably order me back to my room, or maybe reprimand me for bothering her. Maybe both. Or neither. I didn't really know.
Not that it mattered, since I was already standing outside of her door, and raising a closed fist to rap my knuckles against it. "It's Ansel, ma'am," I called.
There was a long pause. Then, a soft shuffle of feet on stone. The latch rattled, and the door swung open. Lady Claudia stood in the doorway, her expression carefully neutral, though I saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Ansel," she said, her tone carefully measured. "What are you doing here?"
I swallowed, feeling suddenly awkward, and scratched the back of my neck, averting my eyes. "I... wanted to speak with you, ma'am. Check in on you."
She tilted her head slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. "Check in?"
I exhaled through my nose, shifting my weight slightly. "You seemed… I don't know. Distracted earlier. I thought I'd see how you were doing."
A pause.
Then, Lady Claudia scoffed softly, stepping back and pushing the door open further. "You worry too much, Ansel."
I shrugged. "Sure, but it's kind of my job to worry, isn't it?"
That earned me a look. Dry. Just a little amused. "Come inside, then," she said.
I stepped inside, and she shut the door behind me. Her chambers were spacious and well-appointed, with a large oak desk and an assortment of shelves and tables. Papers were stacked neatly, an inkwell resting beside them. Her breastplate and pauldrons hung from a wooden stand in the corner, and her swords were set atop a rack. She had changed out of the leather gambeson she'd been wearing earlier as we were training and instead wore a simple linen tunic and trousers. It was the most casual I had ever seen her. It made her look... smaller, somehow.
"I wanted to apologize," I began, breaking the silence. "I think I upset you earlier. I didn't mean to—"
"You did nothing wrong," she said, her voice soft. She sounded tired, weary even. "And no apology is necessary."
"Well, something must have happened," I pressed. "You... It wasn't just earlier. It's also been the last couple of weeks, too," I said.
She didn't answer right away, looking down at her hands as if searching for something there. When she finally spoke again, her words were measured, careful. "It isn't anything you did." She hesitated, then added, "I'm merely preoccupied with other matters."
"Like what?"
"Things that don't concern you, Ansel. You should go to bed." Her voice was sharp, but not angry or unkind.
The smart thing to do would have been to leave it there. To nod, say 'yes, ma'am,' and go. It would be so much easier to just pretend that nothing was amiss. That everything was fine. But it wasn't.
"Do you think it would help if you talked about it?"
She scoffed lightly, finally looking back at me. "Since when are you an expert on emotional burdens?"
I smiled back. "Since about five seconds ago."
She let out a slow breath. "You are insufferable at times, Ansel, do you know that?"
"I think you might have said something like that, once. Or twice. Maybe even multiple times," I said, leaning against a wall.
"You aren't going to relent on this, are you?"
"I'm not gonna push if you really don't want to talk," I told her. "But if you do want to talk about it, I'll listen."
She eyed me for a long moment. There was something like doubt there, and something else I couldn't quite place. Then, finally, she shifted, rolling her shoulders slightly. "Perhaps you have a point," she murmured.
"What was that?"
She exhaled through her nose. "Don't make me repeat myself."
I grinned. "Sure, okay."
Her lips pressed together. She was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on something unseen. When she spoke again, it was quiet, uncertain. As if she were struggling with the words.
"It's... about what happened," she began, her tone halting. "After the battle."
...Oh. I felt my entire body heat up at that.
I'd spent the better part of the past few trying to convince myself that nothing had happened that day. That it was just... an odd, fleeting thing, and that I wasn't losing sleep over it. That it hadn't been the subject of countless restless thoughts.
I'd spent the better part of the last few weeks failing miserably at that.
I took a breath, steeling myself. "...Yeah?"
"I've been avoiding you," she said simply. "And I know it was... inappropriate, and unbecoming of me. I should have been forthright with you. For that, Ansel, I apologize."
"Really?" I said. "Honestly, I... I've been meaning to apologize too. I should've said something sooner. I wasn't sure what to say, though."
"Neither did I, truthfully. But..."
"You know, I get the feeling that we're just gonna spend the entire night apologizing in circles around each other."
That made her smile, just a little. "At this rate? Most likely."
"So, wanna just call it even and move on?" I asked. "I forgive you if you forgive me."
She chuckled. A low, throaty sound. "Very well," she said. "I fear that the... incident made things awkward between us."
"It's been a bit weird, sure," I admitted.
She let out a slow breath, nodding. "I acted without thinking that night."
"Yeah. I get it."
She looked away. "It was inappropriate."
"I know that, too."
Silence fell between us. But this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. Not anymore. It was comfortable, warm. For a moment, I thought that was the end of it. That we'd acknowledge it, shove it aside, and move on. That things could be normal again.
It was a nice fantasy, but it wasn't one that lasted.
"...Then why do I find myself still thinking about it?"
A lump formed in my throat. Her voice was steady—too steady—but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her.
"Ma'am, I—"
She swallowed hard, closing her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "Forget I asked."
I let out a long breath. "I don't think I can."
Her eyes snapped up to meet mine.
It was the first time since I'd stepped into her room that she'd actually looked at me—really looked at me. And there it was—something. The same something that had been simmering under the surface since that night, since her fingers brushed against my face, since our gazes held just a little too long.
I should have let it drop. Should have let her turn away, let her shove this all back down.
But I didn't.
"I've been thinking about it, too," I admitted, the words tasting like dirt on my tongue.
Her fingers curled against the fabric of her sleeve. "That is unwise."
"Yeah," I said, running a hand over my jaw. "I know."
Another stretch of silence. She looked away again, her jaw set, her eyes distant. I had no idea what she was thinking, and I was afraid to ask. All I knew was that the tension that hung in the air between us felt like a noose around my neck, growing tighter with each passing second.
"...Do you miss him?" I asked. "Lord Klaus, I mean."
Her reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened—startled, almost. Then they softened, distant. She looked down at her hands again, twisting them together. "Of course I do," she said after a long pause. Her voice was steady, but I could hear the ache underneath.
I hesitated. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
Her fingers tightened around the sleeve of her tunic. "Sometimes," she said, almost too softly for me to hear, "I wonder if he feels the same. If he misses me as much as I miss him."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"And sometimes," she continued, "I wonder if I would miss him this much… if you weren't here."
I froze. All of a sudden, my heart was pounding in my ears, like it was trying to break free of my chest. The words caught in my throat, lodged in the back of my mouth. They stuck there like a bone in the gullet of some wild animal, refusing to move.
She wasn't looking at me, though. Her gaze was fixed firmly on something unseen.
"...It's getting late," I said. The words felt heavy and awkward even as I said them. "I should probably go."
I was standing before I'd finished speaking. I was already halfway to the door when she called out to me. "Ansel."
My hand hesitated on the door latch. I turned to look at her. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed her in a soft, silvery light. She stood, and for a brief moment, I was reminded of how small she was. For some reason, whenever we sparred, she felt taller than me. Larger than life, in a way. But now, she didn't. I realized that she didn't quite reach my chin, that her shoulders were narrower than mine.
She crossed the room to stand in front of me, her expression inscrutable. She didn't look at me, though. Her eyes fixed instead on the wall beside me.
"Stay."
The word hung between us for a long time, its weight and implications heavy enough to sink ships. The air felt thick, heavy. Suffocating. I swallowed, trying to wet my dry mouth.
"Ma'am, I don't... I can't." I hadn't even realized that I had spoken until the words left my mouth. They were true. Of course they were true. And yet, I felt my stomach churn at the sound of them, like my body was rebelling against the thought. As if I didn't really believe it myself.
I hadn't moved away. Neither had she. Instead, she had taken another step toward me, close enough that I could feel her warmth radiating off her skin.
My lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, I stared at her, trying to find the words. She'd stopped moving, now. She stood in front of me, her expression inscrutable.
"Your husband," I said, my voice hoarse, barely audible. "Your oaths. You—"
"I know."
She didn't deny it. She didn't try to explain it away, or brush it aside. She just acknowledged it. That simple fact—that admission—made something twist deep inside of me.
Then my hand was in hers. And she led me to her bed.
I should have resisted, but the warmth of her touch, the sight of her…
I didn't fight. Didn't pull away.
I...
I wanted this. Wanted it so much that it hurt.
And then, I was on my back, staring up at her as she stood in front of me, hands twiddling with the hem of her tunic. My breath caught. My chest felt tight, like there was something pressing down on it. I wanted to speak. But my tongue seemed to have turned into lead, weighing heavily in my mouth. So all I could do was stare at her, my eyes wide.
Slowly, deliberately, Lady Claudia lifted her tunic up over her head. Her skin glowed golden in the candlelight, her body lithe and strong, her breasts full and round, pink nipples standing erect. She held the shirt in one hand, arms crossed over her chest as she looked away from me. A faint blush colored her cheeks.
I could only stare at her. My throat had gone dry. She was gorgeous. Beautiful. Perfect. And, in all the time I'd known her, I'd never thought of her like that. Not until now.
My hands were shaky as they found their way to my own shirt. I was breathing harder now, my heart hammering against my ribs. I tried to keep my fingers steady, but they trembled as I pulled the fabric over my head, leaving me bare-chested in the dim light of the bedchamber.
She let out a low, soft breath, and her gaze flickered down. The sight of me shirtless seemed to have caught her off-guard. Her brows rose slightly, and her lips parted as if she meant to speak. But whatever words she had been about to utter died in her throat, and her gaze lingered. Not just on my chest, either. Lower still.
I hadn't realized it until then, but I was already fully hard. Harder than I'd ever been in my life. I was aching, throbbing, and the bulge in my trousers was so obvious that I might as well have been naked.
Claudia swallowed visibly. Her eyes darted to the side. Then, she let the shirt fall. It slid from her hand, dropping to the floor beside her. She stood before me, bare, save for her trousers, and I could see her breasts rising and falling with each breath. I watched, entranced, as she slowly reached down, her fingers fumbling with the laces.
It took me a moment to realize I should do the same. With trembling hands, I undid my trousers. I didn't look at her, couldn't bring myself to. The room was silent, save for the sounds of our fumbling. Then, finally, I pulled my trousers down, stepping out of them and letting them fall to the floor.
Claudia inhaled sharply. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and a bright blush crept up her cheeks. I couldn't help the thrill of pride that ran through me. She looked at me like... like I was the only man in the world.
She finished undoing her trousers. Slowly, she began to peel them away. Her movements were slow, almost languide. She stood before me, completely naked.
She was stunning. There was no other word for it. Her skin gleamed in the dim candlelight, and her brown hair framed her face like a halo. Her blue eyes were wide, her pupils dilated.
She stepped forward, the bed creaking slightly as she knelt onto it. My mouth went dry as she drew closer, her body so close that I could smell her scent—she was still sweaty from our spar, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of it. As she settled next to me on the mattress, her eyes roved over my body, drinking in every detail. I drank her in, too; her firm, lithe build, the way her hips curved ever so slightly, the swell of her breasts, the taut muscles of her stomach, the small thatch of hair between her legs.
Gods. I couldn't believe it. It was almost surreal, like I was in a dream.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. We just stared at each other's forms, our bodies not quite touching, our breaths mingling. And then, tentatively, I reached out, my hand finding the curve of her hip. Her skin felt hot beneath my palms, damnably so. As if she had been standing in front of a fire. I could feel her muscles tense under my touch, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into me, her own fingers brushing against my arm.
I shuddered, unable to suppress a groan as her fingers trailed up my arms, her touch soft and warm and inviting. Slowly, carefully, I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. She came willingly, nestling herself against me, the heat of her skin radiating into my chest. Her hand drifted down, tracing the lines of my chest, my stomach, and down further...
I followed suit. My free hand trailed down her body, fingers brushing against the smooth expanse of her flat stomach. Her breathing grew more rapid as I traced a line across her skin, following the curve of her hip and down between her thighs.
Then I found it—a spot, a bundle of nerves, and she let out a shuddering gasp, her entire body tensing.
"You're so wet," I murmured, half in awe.
"Mmm," was all she said in response.
I traced circles around her clit. She arched against me, her hips grinding into my fingers. Gods. She was so beautiful, her hair undone from its bun to fall loosely around her shoulders, her eyes half-closed, a flush creeping across her cheeks. She bit her lip, stifling another moan, and pressed her forehead into my neck, her breath hot against my skin. Her hand finally reached its destination, wrapping around my cock. I sucked in air through my teeth, hips jerking upward to meet her touch.
She stroked me slowly, almost experimentally, her thumb brushing against the head. Her fingers were long and graceful, her grip firm. She ran her palm along my length, squeezing gently, her movements slow and deliberate. I couldn't think straight, couldn't focus. All I could do was feel, and what I felt was incredible.
We lay there, entwined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us dared break the silence. We just lay there, hands exploring each other's bodies, our skin slick with sweat. My fingers dipped inside her, finding a rhythm, while her hand continued its ministrations on me, stroking from base to tip. Gods. It felt amazing, her touch, her warmth, her scent, the way her body responded to mine. I wanted more. I wanted everything.
And then, her fingers tightened around me, her nails digging into the sensitive flesh of my shaft. A groan escaped my lips, and I pushed harder, my fingers sliding in and out of her with greater urgency.
Claudia whimpered, her hips bucking, her teeth sinking into my shoulder to stifle the sound. I felt her tighten around my fingers, her body quivering. Her hand tightened around me, her grip almost painful, and she let out a muffled cry. I felt her climax, her inner muscles clenching around my fingers. She shuddered, her legs trembling, her back arching, her entire body tensing.
"Gods," she breathed, her voice hoarse.
Her hand slackened, but didn't pull away. She simply lay there, panting, her body still trembling with the aftereffects of her orgasm. I stroked her hips with my free hand, marveling at the sight—the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyelids fluttered, the way her lips parted slightly as she caught her breath.
"Good?" I asked, though I knew the answer.
She nodded, still not quite able to speak. Finally, she swallowed, lifting her head to look at me. Her eyes were dark, her pupils wide and glassy.
"I want more," she said, her voice low and husky.
I wanted more, too. More than I'd ever thought possible. More than I could put into words. More than I could imagine. I wanted her. All of her. Everything.
Slowly, I withdrew my fingers from inside her, savoring the way her body clenched around them as I pulled out. She let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.
I rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath me. She was smaller than me, but still strong and athletic. Her hips were narrow, her thighs toned, and her stomach flat and muscled. She looked up at me, her blue eyes wide and bright, her lips parted slightly. Her hands trailed down my chest, tracing the lines of my stomach, before resting on my hips.
My hands found her waist, gripping, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. I pressed myself against her, feeling the warmth of her skin radiating into mine. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, her nipples hard and erect. I leaned forward, taking one in my mouth. She gasped, her back arching, her fingers tangling in my hair.
I sucked and nipped at her sensitive flesh, my tongue swirling around the pebbled skin. Her hips bucked against me, and she moaned softly. She was soaking now, her arousal coating her thighs, her scent heady and intoxicating. I pulled away, releasing her breast with a soft pop, and gazed into her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing heavy.
"I want you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her words set my blood on fire. My cock throbbed painfully between us. I wanted her. Needed her. And...
...And...
This is wrong. Some part of me still knew that. Buried somewhere beneath the desire, beneath the lust. I was her squire. She, my knight. She was married. She had sworn oaths before the eyes of the Goddess. Oaths I wanted to swear someday. I was supposed to be better than this. Stronger. Wiser. We both were. That was the way things were meant to be.
But, lying there, with Claudia gazing up at me, her body bared, her eyes shining in the dim light, I... I didn't care. I couldn't bring myself to care. The part of me that had been screaming warnings at me that this was a betrayal of everything we stood for, that had been trying to remind me of what was right, fell silent.
Slowly, Claudia spread her legs beneath me, thighs opening, letting me see her. She was glistening with moisture, the lips swollen and pink. I slid a finger along her slit, and she shivered, her hips lifting up to meet my touch. I pushed deeper, feeling her inner walls clench around me, slick with need. Gods. I wanted to feel that heat, that wetness, around me.
I slid my hands down to her hips, gripping, and lifted her up, pulling her close. Her legs wrapped around me, her ankles locking behind my back. I positioned myself, the head of my cock pressing against her wetness, and we both gasped. She was hot, so hot, her body quivering with anticipation. Slowly, I pushed forward, entering her. Her body opened up to accept me, and she groaned, her head falling back, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I pushed further, deeper, until I was fully inside her. She was tight, so tight, her inner walls clenching around me, gripping me like a glove.
I began to move, slowly at first, my hips rocking back and forth. She matched my rhythm, her hips rising up to meet me, our bodies coming together again and again.
Claudia moaned, her body arching beneath me. Her legs wrapped tighter around my waist, pulling me deeper. Our hips met with every thrust, our bodies moving in unison. She was so wet, so tight, and the way her muscles clenched and spasmed around me drove me crazy. I couldn't think straight. Couldn't focus on anything else but the feel of her, the sight of her, the smell of her skin.
Every throaty moan I drew from Claudia's lips, every stifled whimper or cry of pleasure, sent jolts of electricity through me. I wanted to hear her more, louder, more freely. I needed more.
I craved her like I'd never craved anything in my entire life.
My pace sped up, my hips slamming against hers, sliding in and out of her faster and faster. Her fingers dug into my back, her nails biting into my skin, and she gasped, her eyes wide and wild. I leaned down, closer, feeling her breath on my lips. Her eyes were locked on mine, her pupils blown wide as she drew herself closer to meet me.
Then, just before our lips could touch, Claudia turned away. "N-no..." she choked out. "Not... that."
A chill ran through me, like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I blinked, and, as if some spell had been broken, clarity returned. I slowed my pace, the reality of what I was doing crashing down on me. And with it, a panicked thought;
What the fuck am I doing?
It was like a punch to the gut, the sudden, cruel realization of what was happening cut through the fog of lust and need that had settled over me. This wasn't right. This... this wasn't how it should be. Not with her.
"I'm sorry." The words stumbled from my mouth. My entire body felt stiff. "I shouldn't have..."
I began to pull away from her, but I only managed to draw back a hair's breadth before she pulled me close again, her legs wrapping around me, refusing to let me move.
"No," she said, her voice low and hoarse. Her eyes were dark, her pupils dilated. There was something else there, too—a hunger, a desperation that I never would have thought to see in her. "Please," she gasped, "Don't stop."
I hesitated, swallowing hard. Then her hand found my cheek, and her thumb brushed against my skin. Her touch was gentle, feather-light, but it sent sparks racing through me nonetheless. She looked up at me, her expression softening, and I realized then that it was the same look she had given me before, the one she'd been hiding from me for weeks. The same look I'd been trying to ignore.
"Don't stop," she said again, and moved her hips up, grinding them against mine.
The world fell away, and all that remained was the sensation of our bodies pressed against each other, the heat of her skin against mine, and the sound of her breathless pleas.
Dammit.
It was the only thought running through my mind as Claudia's legs locked tighter around me.
Dammit…
I... I couldn't stand to look into those eyes anymore, couldn't bear to see the desire in them, the want. I buried my face in her shoulder, my hands digging into her hips, and thrust harder, faster. She moaned, her body arching against me. I lost myself in her, in the sensation of our bodies moving in tandem, of her inner walls clenching and spasming around me.
Her arms snaked around me, pulling me closer, and her fingers dug into my back. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I could feel her body tensing, coiling like a spring, and I knew she was close. I was close, too. The pressure building inside me, the tension in my muscles, the way my heart hammered against my ribcage.
With a grunt, I picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster. She groaned, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at my arms. Her entire body was quivering, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching around me.
Then, with a shuddering gasp, she came again. Her body arched upwards, her back bending, her thighs tightening around me, and I felt her come apart. She bit into my shoulder, suppressing the sound of her voice rising into a wordless scream of pleasure. Her inner walls clenched around me, gripping me tight, and I could feel her juices gushing out, coating my cock.
I kept going, thrusting harder, deeper, faster. I throbbed inside her, every part of me aching, and I felt my own climax building. With a grunt, I pulled out, just in time to feel the tension in me explode. Thick ropes of cum shot out from my head, spilling over her stomach, pooling in her navel, trickling down her thighs, coating her skin in a sticky mess. I let out a long, low groan, my hips jerking forward, my head spinning.
Claudia whimpered, her body writhing and quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her breasts heaved, her nipples hard and erect, her skin flushed and glistening. Her eyes were half-closed, unfocused, glazed over. She was lying on her back, her legs still spread open, her hands resting on her stomach, fingers tracing patterns in the mess of sweat and cum I'd left there. My arms trembled, and my entire body ached. My chest was heaving, my lungs burning.
Gods.
I...
I let myself fall to the side, collapsing beside Lady Claudia. For a while, we lay there in silence, both of us breathing heavily. I couldn't think. Couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at the ceiling, at the dim light filtering through the window, and try to slow the frantic beating of my heart.
This is the second sex scene I've ever written. The first one was chapter 5 of The Cur's Bite. Which was five years ago. Jesus.
Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts, comments, and/or feedback on it and the chapter in general.