Page 162 of Emylia

He kissed my hipbone. Then the inside of my thigh. And I nearly came undone.

“Em…” His voice shook. “Remember, if you want me to stop…”

I almost laughed. Becausehewas the one being gentle, as though he was the one being claimed. Like I was stealinghisvirtue.

“Don’t you dare.”

His smile was crooked and wrecked. And then his fingers replaced his mouth—sliding between my thighs.

It was delicate. Devastating. Divine.

This wasn’t like before.

This was bare. Raw. Intimate in a way that broke me.

My back arched, a moan ripping free. He touched me like he’d been made for it. Like he knew my body better than Elessandria, the one who’d created me.

“Gods…” His breath caught. “You’re already so gloriously wet.”

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t know how to control it?—”

“Don’t youdareapologize,” he growled. “You have no idea what that does to me.”

“I just don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“You couldn’t,” he said.

His thumb circled my clit with aching precision.

“And just so you know—this? Being this wet? That’s the greatest fucking honor of my life. It means you want me. That you desire me beyond reason. That you claim me... as much as I claim you.”

“Oh.” My voice barely rose above a breath.

His eyes darkened, molten gold fading into something darker. Deeper.

“Can I show you… more?”

I nodded, letting go of the last sliver of doubt. Because I trusted him. Even with the parts of me I hadn’t yet learned to love.

He kissed me until I forgot who I was. Until all that remained was need and flame. He tasted me like I was his final meal. Touched me like I was holy and when I shattered beneath him, he caught every piece.

“Tell me,” he rasped. “Tell me this is what you want.”

I knew what he meant. He wasn’t just asking about tonight. Or my body. He was asking if I chosehim. If I wanted him to be my first.

The one I’d always remember.

The one who’d claimed not just my body—but my heart.

“I want this,” I whispered. “I want this to be withyou.”

He kissed me, soft and slow. “Then I’m yours.”

He moved between my legs, watching my face like it was the only thing in existence–and in the breathless silence, in the quiet he carved between heartbeats, I became hallowed.

Worshipped.

Unraveled.

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