Page 51 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
Her lips find mine again, and I carry her to my quarters, my heart pounding in time with the quiet satisfaction in her gaze, knowing that tonight, I will give her all the love she is owed — and then some. Kicking the door open, I stride inside with her in my arms, her soft laughter warming the air between us. I carry her to the bed, laying her down. She bounces slightly on the mattress, her hair spilling around her like dark silk. She looks up at me, and there’s a glint in her eyes; fierce, triumphant, achingly beautiful.
Wasting no time, I lean over her, trailing my fingertips down her face, across her jaw, and watching as her eyes close briefly,savoring the gentleness in my touch. “You were... amazing out there,” I murmur, my voice low, unable to keep the awe out of it. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
Her eyelids flutter open, and there’s a slight tremor in her breath, a shudder that races across her skin as if my words caress her as well. She arches her neck slightly, drawing me in, and I don’t hesitate. I lower myself, my lips brushing against the soft skin beneath her jaw, letting my breath ghost over her pulse, feeling it quicken under the feather-light contact.
“You are everything,” I murmur, trailing kisses down her neck, slow and deliberate, relishing every small gasp she gives. “Every bit of power, every ounce of strength; I saw it all. You were incredible.”
Her hands find my shoulders, fingers digging in, pulling me closer as her breath comes in soft, shaky waves. I kiss along her collarbone, leaving warmth in my wake, tracing every line, every delicate curve. “Thorne…” she whispers, and her voice cracks slightly.
“You don’t ever have to hide anymore,” I tell her, my voice a soft growl against her skin, each word heavy with promise. “Not from me. Not from anyone.”
My hands move down, skimming over her waist, drawing her closer as I kiss her deeply. Our mouths meet in a slow, searing rhythm. I take my time, savoring her like she’s a treasure I never thought I’d find, like each kiss is a silent oath.
“You deserve this,” I whisper against her lips, fingers tracing her ribs, feeling the way her body trembles under my touch. “To be worshiped, adored, shown how magnificent you are.”
Her cheeks are flushed, desire tethering us as she holds my gaze, a quiet challenge in her eyes. “Then show me,” she breathes, the words half-daring, half-vulnerable, like she’s letting down the last of her defenses.
I shift lower, my lips finding the sensitive dip at her collarbone, trailing further down as her breathing deepens. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on as I worship every inch of her skin. She gasps as I press my mouth to the softness above her heart, feeling its strong, wild beat beneath my lips. When I finally lift my head, I see her looking back at me and gods I never want her to stop looking at me like this.
"I’ll show you every day," I promise softly, running my thumb along her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. "You’re my queen. Always." I peel the dress off of her, trailing kisses over every inch of exposed skin. Stepping back, I take in the sight of her as she lays bare before me, a vision of strength and beauty that seems to steal the air from my lungs, the very air from this fucking room . The way her eyes watch me, unguarded and utterly fearless, makes me realize just how deeply I’ve fallen. Henry was a fool, a damn fool, to ever let her slip away, to ever diminish her.
"You are perfection made flesh," I murmur, my gaze locking with hers. "And I get the honor of losing myself in you.
Dropping my own clothes, I’m back at her side in an instant, diving into her embrace with a hunger that’s both fierce and tender. My hands explore her skin, sliding down, memorizing every curve and dip until I find the place that makes her breath hitch, her soft whimper slipping out as I press into her warmth.
“Brielle,” I growl, feeling her already slick and ready beneath my touch, “you’re so wet for me.” The words come out low and unrestrained, almost as if they’re pulled from somewhere deep. I slide my fingers into her, setting a rhythm that has her back arching and her breaths coming faster. Her body responds to every movement, and I watch, mesmerized, reading every little gasp, every clench, every part of her unraveling beneath my touch.
I dip my head, letting my lips close around the soft peak of her breast, my tongue flicking against her rosy nipple. Her taste is intoxicating, a blend of warmth and sweetness that makes my chest tighten. My fingers don’t falter, keeping their unrelenting rhythm as her body starts to quiver beneath me. Each gasp she breathes fuels me. She clenches tighter around my fingers, and my cock twitches with jealousy. I can feel it; the trembling edge she’s so close to tipping over. But instead of letting her fall, I draw back, my fingers leaving her just as she arches, desperate for release.
Her whimper cuts through the air, sharp and needy, her flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes locking onto mine. The frustration in her look is matched by the hunger in mine.God, she’s stunning—completely undone and needing me. Completely mine.
“I was so close,” she whimpers, her voice rough, almost desperate, and it sends a thrill through me.
I don’t keep her waiting. Sliding forward, I guide myself to her, pausing for just a heartbeat to savor the anticipation reflected in her wide, expectant gaze. Then, with one slow motion, I push into her, her warmth enveloping me completely. A low, broken moan spills from her lips as her body arches to meet mine, her head tipping back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. “Fuck” the word falls from my lips. She feels like she was made for me, every inch of her molding to fit my cock and I don’t know how long I will be able to control myself.
The primal satisfaction surges through me, possessive and heady, but I don’t stop. Leaning back slightly, I let my thumb find the tender swell of her clit, circling it in teasing, measured strokes. Her breaths come faster, more uneven, her hips rocking in time with mine as I thrust deeper, each movement deliberate, each stroke designed to bring her closer.
I watch her slowly unravel, her body trembling as she flirts with the edge, again and again, her cries spilling out in waves. And then, she breaks; her release tearing through her, and I feel her pulse around me, pulling me deeper.
Her release ripples through her, and I lean down, pressing a deep, tender kiss to her lips as I continue thrusting, steady and unrelenting. She’s still trembling beneath me, her body pulsing around me, and I pull back, my gaze locking onto hers, dark and filled with intent.
“Good girl,” my voice a low, rough whisper against her skin. “Now give me one more.”
Her eyes, already lidded with pleasure, widen at my command, a flicker of surprise and anticipation lighting in them. I run a gentle hand along her cheek, tracing her jaw as my pace remains deliberate, my movements building her up all over again. Her breath catches, and she lets out a soft gasp, her lips parting.
“I’m going to… I’m almost…” she breathes, her voice breaking as her eyes flutter closed.
I tighten my grip on her, my pace increasing just enough to push her to that edge again. And then, with a shuddering cry, she tips over, her body tensing and releasing in a way that drags me with her, each pulse of her release pulling me into my own. A growl rumbles in my chest as I finally give in, letting the force of our shared climax wash over us both.
As the last waves of our release ebb away, I linger over her, brushing my lips softly against hers, savoring the quiet hum of satisfaction between us. This woman is everything I have ever wanted, ever needed. If I wasn’t crazy about her before now I’m simply mad. A lunatic wrapped around her every word, her every breath. When I finally pull away, I take a step back to look at her. The sight of her, bare, relaxed, and glowing, leaves me breathless.
My gaze dips to where my release still lingers, and a thought rushes through me, unbidden but potent: the image of her carrying my child. It’s unexpected, but something warm unfurls in my chest at the thought, like she’s become the center of my world, my future, in ways I’d never let myself imagine.
“Stay here,” I say, my voice calm but firm, holding her gaze as I step away. She watches me, her eyes soft and searching, tracking my every move as I head to the bathroom. When I return with a warm towel in hand, she’s lying back, her body relaxed, her skin glowing in the low light.
Kneeling beside her, I begin wiping her down, the towel gliding over her skin. Each movement feels like a privilege, a quiet moment to care for her. She shifts slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You don’t have to,” she says, her voice soft but clear, a mix of protest and gratitude.
“I want to,” I answer, my tone steady and certain.
