Page 46 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
“You deserve this, Brielle,” he murmurs, his voice low, rich. “Everything you’ve been denied. Every single bit of pleasure you’ve been waiting for... it’s yours now.”
His fingers trace gentle circles around the sensitive bud he has found with such ease, the movement igniting waves of heat deep within me. Each brush of his touch draws me closer, my body melting into the warm water around me. I can feel myself unraveling, my control slipping with each precise touch. Everynerve comes alive under his hand, and I can’t hold back the soft moans that escape, breaths catching and releasing in time with his hand, guiding me, grounding me, unspooling everything I’ve held back for so long.
As the tension inside me builds, he leans close, his mouth at my ear, whispering, “Give in, Brielle. Don’t hold back.” His fingers press harder, urging me forward, and I can do nothing but obey. The release that follows leaves me breathless, gasping as my body arches, gripping the sides of the tub as waves of pleasure course through me, wave after wave, until I’m spent, sinking back against the porcelain.
Slowly, his hand withdraws, and he holds my gaze, dark satisfaction written across his face. He raises his fingers to his lips and tastes them, his eyes never leaving mine, as if savoring every bit of the pleasure he’s drawn out of me. The gesture leaves me warm, flushed, my mind spinning.
Before he rises, I reach for him, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “What about you?” I ask, my voice still thick with the afterglow, tinged with an eagerness I hadn’t realized I was feeling.
He leans in, his lips so close they brush against my cheek as he speaks. “Soon, my queen. Very soon,” he murmurs, a hint of a promise in his voice, “You’ll have your turn to bring me to my knees again.”
With a final lingering look, he stands, his presence like a shadow I don’t want to lose. He leaves quietly, a parting smirk on his lips that feels like a dare, his words still hanging in the air around me, warm and electric, leaving me aching for the next promise he’ll make good on. The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone in the lingering warmth of the water, his presence still heavy in the room despite his absence. My heart is still pounding, my skin tingling, and my mind replaysevery touch, every word he whispered with that dark intensity that burned through me.
I lean back against the smooth edge of the tub, closing my eyes, letting myself sink deeper into the quiet, heady thrill he left me with. For so long, I'd been denied the feeling of being wanted, of being seen so completely. And now here he is—a man as dangerous as he is captivating—making it clear he’ll go to any length to pull me from the shadows I’ve been trapped in, to remind me of the power I hold even if it leaves him at my mercy. As the water stills around me, I find myself smiling, an unfamiliar warmth filling my chest. I should feel wary, maybe even afraid, yet somehow, in his hands, I’ve never felt safer. The shadows of my past still linger, yes, but they feel smaller here. Maybe, with him, I can start to reclaim what was taken from me. Maybe I can even begin to let down the walls I’ve held up for so long.
Tomorrow, I’ll face the weight of my new title, of the choices that lie ahead, and the lingering ghosts of my past. But for tonight, in this dark, quiet castle, I let myself sink into the comfort he left behind, allowing the warmth of this strange, intoxicating new world to envelop me.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ve finally found a place where I belong.
With one last deep breath, I let the thoughts drift away and close my eyes, preparing for whatever awaits me beyond these doors.
twenty
Thorne
I stare down at the glass in my hand, swirling the dark wine until it catches the light, a restless, deep red. She’s so close now, finally, after all these years, she’s here, under my roof. Soon, she’ll be seated at my table. The vision of her in my castle has haunted my dreams for so long, a quiet torment I let myself savor because it always seemed just out of reach. And now, only a few rooms away, she’s real. Inescapably real. A strange tension coils in my chest. I’m nervous; a feeling I have rarely ever felt. I can’t help but exhale the humor of it. Me, nervous? How absurd. I take another long drink, hoping it will drown out this ridiculous unrest.
I glance at my hand, remembering the way her cunt clutched at my fingers, the tight grip, her breaths rapid and shallow as I coaxed her through her orgasm. She let me in, let me see her undone, laid bare. I close my eyes for a moment, feelingthe ghost of her warmth against my skin. She’s so undeniably perfect.
But then there’s that damn name. Henry. I didn’t miss the way her face fell when I told her he was still alive. Concern; no, pity, even. It seemed like she turned so quickly, eager to run to him. The thought twists like a knife in my chest, each second of jealousy cutting deeper, daring me to reach for her and remind her exactly where she belongs. She might have loved him once, clung to him like a lifeline, but she isn’t that woman anymore.She’s mine.I’ve broken down every shield she raised between us, brought her to this place where only I hold her secrets, her fears, her strength.
Would she still be foolish enough to look back? To even consider choosing that shadow of a man, clinging to the comfort of a weak spirit she no longer needs? The thought alone makes my jaw clench, anger burning slow and sharp inside me.
The wait stretches my patience thin. I sit at the table, its surface covered with darkly glistening fruits, heavy roasted meats, and silver bowls piled high with decadent offerings. I ordered all of this; foolishly, perhaps—to impress her, as if I’m some love-struck prince seeking approval. I take another drink of wine, forcing down the tension winding through me. For once, I can’t seem to unravel it.
And then I hear her; soft footsteps against the polished floors, each one drawing closer. My grip tightens on the glass as my pulse quickens, the tension twisting tighter. I don’t look up right away. Instead, I let the sound wash over me, her presence undeniable even before I see her.
When I finally look up, the sight of her steals the breath from my lungs. She stands in the doorway, framed by the flickering light, standing ever so still as if to give me my fill of how utterly stunning she is in this black dress. The fitted bodice and long sleeves trace every curve with precision, the long sleeves sleekand elegant, broken only by delicate sheer panels that tease the faintest outline of her skin.
For a moment, I can’t move, can’t think. She’s more than I’d imagined in all my restless dreams; more commanding, more radiant. An apparition of elegance and power, she looks as though she’s always belonged here, as though this castle was waiting for her to claim it. I swallow hard, setting the glass down carefully, afraid my hand might betray the effect she has on me. My eyes trace her as she steps further into the room, each movement so fluid, so captivating, it feels like a performance meant for me alone. I’ve prepared for this moment, for her, and yet, I’m completely unprepared for the sheer force of her presence. Now that she is here, now that she is truly mine, I am under her spell and she has all the power to completely unravel me.
I rise from my seat, crossing the room to her. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I catch a flicker of surprise before she lowers her gaze. I pull out her chair, noticing the faint flush blooming along her cheeks as she sits.
"You look stunning," I murmur, my voice low, watching as her blush deepens.
She glances down, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. “Where did you… get this dress?” she asks, her voice soft and soothing to my nerves.
I lean closer, letting my voice drop to a near whisper. "You have a few," I say with a smirk, watching her expression waver between curiosity and a hint of shyness. "There are more being made, but I wanted to ensure they fit your taste before having Helena, our seamstress, craft the rest."
Her eyes lift to meet mine, and there’s something unreadable in her gaze. Still, I sense an ease between us that hadn’t been there before. I just want her to feel safe here. I just want her to stay. I take my seat beside her, watching as she reaches for thegoblet of wine, a small but grateful smile crossing her lips. She sips, savoring the taste, her eyes momentarily closing as though the flavor draws her in.
I gesture toward the spread of food, "Please," I say, my voice soft, "help yourself."
She hesitates before reaching to fill her plate so I follow suit, filling my plate with deliberate ease, though my focus lingers more on her than the food. We begin to eat, the quiet between us broken only by the soft clink of silverware and the occasional crackle of the hearth. She tastes each dish with an unhurried appreciation, her lashes lowering as she savors each bite. I barely touch my own plate, more absorbed in the delicate curve of her neck as she leans forward slightly, the way the soft candlelight catches in her hair, and the faint furrow of her brow as she debates her next bite.
She glances up and catches me staring. Her brow arches, a hint of a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Do you often stare at dinner guests like this?”
I lean in, letting her challenge simmer between us. “Only when I’m this… captivated.” Her blush deepens again, and she sets down her fork, giving me a look that lingers, setting my insides on fire.
