Page 178 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
I smile to myself, remembering the night before—the heat of his body, the way he made me come undone over and over again, until I wasn’t sure whether it had been five times or six. My skin still tingles from the memory, and I bite my lip, feeling him shift behind me, stirring in his sleep.
I turn, taking a moment to study his face, his chiseled features softened in repose, and feel a rush of affection. There’s no one else I’d want beside me now, no one else who makes me feel as alive as he does. Not even Jason, whose beauty once captivated me, can compare to Casper. Jason was my first love, gentle and familiar. He belonged to a time when love meant safety, when being seen felt like being rescued. With him, I was a girl finding her way, clinging to the warmth of shared memories and the innocence of wanting to be chosen.
But Casper is nothing like that. He is not safe. He is shadow and flame, the pull beneath my skin that refuses to let go. He sees me not as I was, but as I am—every scar, every secret. And still, he stays. With Jason, I was loved for who I had been. With Casper, I am seen for all I have become. He’s a mystery—dangerous, forbidden, but so deeply beautiful that it makes me forget the world outside. I want to stay here with him, in this cave, lost in his embrace, hidden from the sun, from the world.
Slowly, I shift in his arms, trying to slide out from under the blanket without waking him, but just as I’m about to stand, I feel his touch on my back. I turn to see him watching me, his dark eyes filled with a quiet intensity, as if he’s been awake all along, waiting for me to make the first move. His gaze sends a shiver through me, and he moves toward me, his fingers brushing my hair away from my shoulder.
He leans down and places a soft kiss on my spine, the sensation sending ripples of warmth through me despite the chill of the cave. His lips trail up to my neck, and I roll my head back in response, giving him access. His hands slide around my waist, and his fingers brush lightly over my ribs. I close my eyes, savoring the tenderness of his touch.
I glance back over my shoulder, meeting his gaze, and when his lips finally find mine, the world around us seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the two of us. The world outside, the sunlight, the risk—none of it matters. There’s only this moment, and the heat between us. He deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine, and I feel myselfmelting into him, my body responding to his presence like it always does.
He pulls away just slightly, his voice low and teasing.
“Good morning, Princess,” he murmurs against my lips, the words making my heart flutter.
“Good morning, little Ghost,” I reply, my smile playful as I meet his eyes.
His laugh is rich and dark, and I feel him shift behind me, his teeth grazing my neck in a playful nip.
“Do you want to feel howlittleI am?” he teases, his hands tightening around my waist.
I moan softly at the feeling, my body already aching for him, craving his touch. His gaze darkens with approval, and without warning, he pulls me closer, his lips capturing mine again in a heated kiss. I feel him, hard and insistent against me, and the desire within me flares. The thought of the sunlight outside, so close and yet so dangerous for him, seems distant as we lose ourselves in each other.
But it’s not just about the physical. It never has been. There’s something deeper here. The way he touches me, the way he looks at me with such intensity, as if he’s afraid to lose me, as if he needs me in a way that transcends the physical world. I feel it in every caress, every glance. This isn’t just passion.
It’slove.
Casper’s tongue brushes against mine, drawing a soft moan from me. His teeth catch my bottom lip, tugging lightly before his arms wrap around me, guiding me to lean back against him. My bare breasts, with their hardened peaks, betray the heat coursing between us.
Casper’s fingers trace languid patterns over my skin, light yet purposeful. His hand moves to my left nipple, pinching it gently, coaxing a whimper escapes my lips. He kisses my cheek softly, the tenderness of the gesture contrasting with the pressure building within me. Then, as if to shield me from the intensity of the moment, he pulls a blanket over us, wrapping me in warmth and holding me close.
But confusion stirs within me. I had hoped he would claim me again, that we’d let the raw passion consume us once more. Instead, he pulls me into a tender embrace, his face buried in my hair as though he’s trying to keep things gentle, restrained. I roll my eyes in frustration, craving more, my body aching for him, even as he holds back.
“Do you want me to make love to you again?”
I shake my head, unable to find the words, but my hands betray me as they reach for him, craving his touch, his heat.
“Hmm,” he hums in approval, his lips twitching slightly.
I turn to meet his gaze—just in time to see his hand wrap around his length. He’s already hard for me, the head flushed and slick, precum glistening at the tip like temptation made flesh.
Heat floods my core.
Casper watches me bite my lip, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent, and his mouth curves into that dark, devastating grin that undoes me every time. He leans in close, his breath brushing my skin before his teeth graze my jaw—slow, teasing—then he bites, just enough to make me shiver.
I push him back.
Dropping to my knees, I meet his eyes as I wrap my hand around him, stroking once, slow and tight, before taking him into my mouth. The taste of him hits instantly and I moan low in my throat, letting the sound vibrate through him. His groan is ragged, his fingers twisting into my hair as I take him deeper, tongue swirling, lips wrapped tight. He twitches against my tongue, and I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder, reveling in the way his control begins to unravel.
His hips jerk, the muscles in his thighs flexing as I work him with my mouth—slow, wet, hungry. I feel him pulse, and I want more. I wantallof it—his taste, his sounds, the way he curses under his breath like he’s on the edge of losing himself.
And gods, I want to be the reason he does.
“Fuck,” he moans, his voice a low growl as his hand finds the base of my neck, guiding me as I take him deeper.
His length nudges the back of my throat, and tears spring to my eyes, but I don’t look away—I meet his gaze, unflinching, surrendering to him. His eyes darken, a devilish gleam flashing through them as his thumb brushes away the wetness trailing down my cheek. Then he grips my hair tighter, possessive, reverent.
“You take me so well.”
