🔞🔞🔞🔞I watched Emrys in the burgeoning light of dawn as he pulled his clothes back on. The sun began to bleed through the windows, illuminating the room and signaling the start of another day of deception.
My breasts were still bare, my nightgown reduced to ruins by the man now dressing with such cold indifference. Emrys. My brother. I looked at him with eyes that betrayed me—aching with a volatile cocktail of devoted love and insatiable lust.
"Brother," I whispered, my voice thick with hope. "Does this mean you love me? Not as your sister... but as a woman?"
He spared me a fleeting glance, his expression unreadable as he swept his messy dark hair back from his face.
"You must be dreaming again, Callista," he replied, his voice like ice. "I only fucked you because I knew you were starving for it.
Weren't you crying out my name while you rammed your own fingers into your cunt? I simply fulfilled a wish. As your brother, it is my duty to make your desires a reality."
He leaned in, capturing my lips in a brief, mocking smack of a kiss before turning away. I watched his retreating figure until the door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the silence of my room.
I changed into a fresh gown and began to straighten the sheets. It was then I saw it—a deep red stain on the white fabric. It was the physical evidence of our "passionate love," or at least, the version of it I let myself believe in. I felt hollowed out by his words, yet beneath the hurt, a dark resolve hardened. I didn't care what he called it; I only knew I never wanted this to stop.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on my limbs. I summoned Ellara and instructed her to prepare my bath. As I shed my clothes, the morning chill bit at my skin, making me shiver. I stepped into the steaming tub, letting the water submerge me, hoping to soothe the nerves that still hummed from the way Emrys had claimed me.
Ellara washed my hair with delicate, practiced motions. "My Lady," she murmured, "would you like me to assist in washing your body?"
"No," I dismissed her nonchalantly, staring at the steam rising from the surface. "I wish to be alone in the water."
Once the door closed, I shut my eyes. My mind immediately betrayed me, conjuring the image of Emrys’s strong hands prying my legs apart. I could still feel the phantom sensation of him sucking my nipples like a starving beast, his tongue marking every inch of my skin. A low moan vibrated in my throat.
Submerged in the warmth, I slid my middle finger down to my entrance, caressing the swollen folds. With my other hand, I began to pinch and roll my nipples, mimicking his rough touch.
I fantasized about him standing behind me in the tub, his well-toned, naked body pressing against my back, his thick, rigid cock prodding against my backside. In my mind, I reached back to stroke him, my hand slick with water, while he leaned over to catch my nipple in his mouth. I imagined him stretching me open with two fingers, sliding them in and out with punishing speed, while he tilted my head back to claim my mouth in a torrid, tongue-heavy kiss.
The fantasy shifted; I imagined him lifting me out of the water, my legs locked firmly around his waist as his hands supported my weight against the cold stone wall. He would drive his length into me with a single, brutal thrust. My pussy would swallow him whole, clutching at his thickness with every rhythmic pump.
"Emrys..." I whimpered into the empty room.
I imagined him turning me around, forcing me to lean against the wall so he could take me from behind. I saw him ramming into me, his cock hitting that deep, sensitive spot over and over. The heat in my core reached a breaking point. My fingers moved frantically, mimicking the friction of his body. Just as the climax shattered through me, I felt a shameful, ecstatic release, my muscles pulsing so violently that I lost control, my body trembling as I came and find relief in the warm bathwater.
I gasped for air, my limbs feeling like jelly, weighted down by a pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
I skipped breakfast; I was simply too drained to face the world. I spent the day cocooned in my bed, breathing in the lingering scent of him on the pillows—a musky, masculine fragrance I could never get enough of.
Later, I ordered Ellara to bring tea and sweets to my room. As she set the tray, she dropped a piece of news that chilled my blood.
"My Lady, I was told to inform you that the delegates from Calligo arrive in one week. Princess Lydia and her brother, Prince Leon, will be received by the King. Your father requests that you be on your best behavior."
My heart pounded with a sickening mix of anxiety and rage. The Princess. Emrys’s betrothed.
"Thank you, Ellara. You are dismissed," I said, my voice tight.
I wouldn't let that Calligo bitch ruin my mood. Not yet. I finished my tea and drifted back into a heavy, dreamless sleep. When I finally woke, the sun had set. Assisted by my maids, I dressed for the evening. I caught Ellara’s gaze in the mirror—she definitely saw the dark bruises and love bites peppering my neck and chest, but she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut.
I walked out into the moonlit garden, the cool night breeze kissing my skin. Looking up at the stars, I remembered the heat of the morning. My face flushed. The fear of the Princess was there, but the hunger was louder. I wanted him again. I wanted to feel him inside me, breaking me, until there was nothing left of Callista but what he made of her.
