Riven’s burning kisses traced every inch of Ashtoria’s body. Starting from her chin, he nibbled gently on her earlobe, then moved down her cheek to her pale neck. Each touch of his lips left a warm mark that seemed to sear into her skin, as if Ashtoria’s body were a canvas he was determined to claim in his own way.

The silk nightgown clinging to Ashtoria’s curves did little to hide her enchanting form. With just a slight tug, the fabric could slip away, revealing her most intimate self. When Riven’s gaze fell upon her breasts, his breath hitched. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against them.

“Ah—!”

Ashtoria tangled her fingers in Riven’s coarse black hair, pulling him closer. She didn’t understand—didn’t understand why this man was exploring every inch of her body with such a hungry mouth, as if he wanted to devour her alive, to chew away every last trace of innocence hidden beneath her cool exterior.

But strangely—

She didn’t want him to stop.

Even when his teeth grazed her collarbone, even when his tongue ventured down to places that made her blush, all she felt was a thrilling, unfamiliar sensation. Her body felt wrapped in flames, her heart pounding in sync with the wild rhythm in Riven’s chest.

More, she thought, lost in a haze of desire.

She held her breath as Riven moved lower, his strong hands gripping her hips with a pressure that made her shiver.

What are you going to do?

The question floated in her mind—not as a protest, but as anticipation. An intoxicating uncertainty, like standing at the edge of a cliff with closed eyes, not knowing when she would be pushed over, yet yearning for it.

And when Riven finally lifted his head—his eyes dark, his breath ragged—Ashtoria saw something in his gaze that made her chest tighten:

Desire.

Not ordinary desire. This was something wild, something that should have terrified her.

But all Ashtoria could do was smile.

‘Finally,’ her inner voice whispered, ‘you want me just as much as I want you.’

Her hands pulled Riven’s face back to hers, and their lips met again in a kiss deeper, more desperate.

‘Don’t stop,’ she wanted to scream.

Never stop.

Riven lifted his head from between Ashtoria’s thighs, his breath still ragged and uneven. His lips were still wet with the taste of her skin—salty, slightly sweet, like honey mixed with salt. Reflexively, his tongue touched the corner of his mouth, savoring the remnants.

God…

His eyes swept over the scene before him. Ashtoria lay there, her black silk gown now more of a decoration than a cover. The fabric was disheveled—revealing her smooth left shoulder, her enticing right thigh, and…

Her nearly fully exposed breasts.

Her rosy nipples were bare after Riven had unconsciously shifted her bra, standing in sharp contrast against her pale skin. Riven reached out, his index finger tracing the curve of her breast with a pressure that made her squirm.

“R-Riven…” Her voice broke into a gasp as his finger brushed against her already hardened peak, a fleeting touch before he pulled away.

Ashtoria’s face was a masterpiece of ravaged beauty. Her cheeks were flushed the deep crimson of a peony, her lips were swollen from being bitten, and her eyes…

Those eyes.

Red as blood, yet now they shimmered with unshed tears. Her pupils were dilated, vast pools of black swallowing the ruby red, filled with a thousand unspoken questions.

Why did you stop? Don’t you dare stop.

The message was clear, written in her gaze without a single word.

Riven felt a pulse of desire throb at the base of his groin, a sweet ache that drew a low groan from him. His hand gripped the sheets, the fabric twisting around his fingers like the only anchor preventing him from falling back into the abyss of his want for her.

“We… we can’t,” he whispered, but the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

Ashtoria rose with a fluid motion, the black silk finally sliding from her shoulders. “Why?” she asked, her tone deceptively simple, yet utterly lethal.

Because…

Because if he touched her just one more time, he would-

Without any warning, Ashtoria seized Riven’s wrist and placed his hand squarely on the soft, full curve of her breast.

Riven froze. Even through the thin barrier of her gown, he could feel the warm, yielding softness, a sensation that threatened to swallow his hand, and his sanity, whole.

“Can you feel my heart beating?” Ashtoria whispered, her voice husky. “I—”

Riven snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned.

“No!”

He stood up so fast the bed frame protested with a sharp creak. His chest was heaving, sweat beading at his temples and the hollow of his throat. Before him, Ashtoria looked genuinely startled, a rare expression on the face of the unflappable queen.

“You don’t understand,” Riven growled, the words torn from him. “I’m not… I can’t…”

His voice faltered when Ashtoria crawled closer, moving with the slow grace of a stalking predator. The black silk of her gown spread out around her knees like a pool of shadow.

“Show me,” she whispered. Riven knew those words carried more than desire.

It was too much.

Too raw.

Too dangerous.

With a rough movement, Riven turned away and stormed out, each step biting into him as if he were walking on shards of glass.

Behind him, he heard the faintest sound—perhaps Ashtoria’s hand clutching the sheets, perhaps a breath that almost became a sob.

But he did not turn back.

He could not.

Because if he did, morning would find them both at a place with no return.

Riven stumbled out of the room, fists clenched so hard that his nails dug into his palms.

Stupid virgin!

The night air stabbed at his skin as he stepped outside, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning in his veins. The palace felt like a labyrinth, its endless halls and towering ceilings mocking his turmoil.

Idiot!

No wonder you are still a virgin!

His steps dragged aimlessly until he found himself in the palace garden.

The moon.

A full moon hung perfectly above, flooding the gardens with silver light that made everything look unreal. Yet tonight, that beauty felt like mockery.

“I almost…”

His fists trembled. Her warmth still lingered on his fingers, her scent clung to his skin—roses mixed with salt, the fragrance of her body.

He shook his head violently, trying to erase the memory.

Then he saw the pool.

Its surface was still, a flawless mirror reflecting the moon and stars. Without a second thought, Riven tore off his sweat-soaked shirt and dove in.

Cold.

The water wrapped around him like a shocking embrace. He let himself sink, eyes open, watching bubbles swirl upward. Down here, in the silence, his storming heart began to quiet.

“This is wrong.”

“I should not…”

“She is a queen. I am only—”

“Damn it!”

“Useless virgin!”

But his body would not listen to reason. He still felt the ghost of Ashtoria’s touch on his wrists, the warmth of her breath on his neck.

Riven broke the surface with a gasp, hair plastered to his face.

Damn it!

His fist slammed into the water, shattering the moon’s reflection. Droplets struck his face, mixing with the salt already stinging at his eyes.

Why?

Why did I run?

He dove again, deeper this time, as if he could drown the thoughts clawing at him. The cold water should have cooled his desire, but—

Splash!

A sudden noise ripped through the silence just before a wave hit him.

No… impossible.

He opened his eyes in the dark water, and there she was.

Ashtoria.

Her black silk gown floated like wings of shadow, her crimson hair fanning out like fire beneath the water. But what froze him most were her eyes—ruby red, glowing even here, burning with an intensity that made his chest seize.

Before he could react, a cold hand caught his neck, gentle yet unyielding, pulling him up.

“How dare you run from me,” Ashtoria’s voice murmured as they broke the surface, low and sharp, making his skin prickle.

Water streamed down her face, clinging to her sharp brows, dripping from lips still swollen from their kiss. Her drenched gown now clung to her body, revealing every curve that until now Riven had only imagined.

God…

Riven tried to pull back, but Ashtoria pinned him. Her legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water, her right hand holding his neck, her left cupping his cheek.

“You’re mine.”

She said it like a vow. Like a warning. Like a prayer. Her wet hand traced across Riven’s chest, feeling the wild pounding of his heart.

And beneath the moonlight, encircled by cool water—

Riven knew he’d already surrendered.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep