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♛❞
I moan in utter bliss when I come undone, and our limbs deliberately slacken from our moment of ecstasy as my breast heaves from pleasure and solace while he moulds his glistening toned body into mine. His warm and feverish breath brushes just beneath my jaw, where he plants affectionate kisses on my sweaty neck, biting the salty flesh ever so lightly. His activities bring a drowsy yet heartfelt smile to my complexion as I gaze at him through half-lidded eyes, bringing a hand into his fluffy chestnut hair to gently caress the top of his head as he soon lays on my chest.
He closes his eyes, the fluttering eyelashes slightly tickling the skin he tucks himself. Peacefully, his hand skims from my hipbone and past my belly button, where the texture of his short nail causes the hair on my arm to stand up. Unexpectedly, I whimper as he pinches my exposed nipple, to which he chuckles when I tug the strands of hair beneath my palm. He gingerly kisses my collarbone as a silent apology and resumes his little escapade on my body, my eyes now trained in curiosity on his hand. He finally stops when reaching the ends of my dark strands, curling the hair with his pointer finger with a soft hum. I left him to do as he pleases and closed my eyes, relishing his tender gestures as deep slumber called for me.
"Kira," I hear his sudden muffled call, feeling his lips moving against my skin when doing so. I hum in question, expressing my attention to him in such a manner, given my consciousness is slipping away, and my voice is still hoarse from our earlier euphoria. After a few seconds, in the absence of an answer from him, I open a single eye to glance at him and find him already peering at me.
"My mother knows of you," from the melancholy in his voice, I understood tonight would not be a pleasant departure. Slowly and hesitantly, he removes his arms from around my waist, sitting upright on the mattress and back against the headboard, leaving me alone on the plush of my cushions. He places his hand beside mine instinctively, however, not adjoining like heretofore, his desolate pinky sticking out as though incapable of reaching for me, yet still yearning to do so.
"I cannot see you anymore," he begins, and my chest immediately tightens at the revelation. He breathes out through his nose, keeping his jaw tensed and eyebrows knitted tightly. His eyes screwed shut, revealing the crinkles I adore oh so much. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, "I have responsibilities— I am the man of the house, Kira. I have a family to take care of."
I can practically hear my heart shatter into millions of pieces, the sound of fragile glass striking the hard floor resounding bitterly in my ears. My throat constricted at the sudden revelation, words perishing from the bile rising within me. I bit my lip as I stared down at our distanced hand, and seeing his fist trembling beside mine, I knew I could not be selfish. Shacking my head vigorously to shed from the gloaming harnessing of my mind, I knew I could never be selfish, not when he was under so much pressure from supporting his family and commitments as a young Viscount.
"Then I won't stop you." He quickly whips his head at my short response, hair tousling as he stares down at me with red, chapped lips gapped in surprise. I gradually sit up beside him, not caring for the cheap blanket that slides off my body, leaving myself shamelessly bare before the aghast Viscount.
"One thing I have always loved about you, Anthony, is your undying love for your family," I place a reassuring hand over his thigh, squeezing them slightly to bring him out of his dazed senses. His breath hitches when I slide my hand into his, intertwining our fingers slowly as I speak, "Remember, I became your friend before becoming your secret lover— well, not so hidden anymore, is it."
Anthony forcefully chuckles under his breath, curling his head away from me, I presume from guilt. Upset to have his face away from my eyesight, I pinch his chin with my thumb and pointer finger to shift back to me, his dark honey eyes instantly aligning with my blue pair, "and I knew this day would come, given our differences in status. So I am telling you that I will not stop you from taking care of your family— they are your priority, especially your sister of this season, Daphne."
I notice his eyes slowly glistening under the dim light, mixed emotions transparent on his face and lips dragged down. Out of reflex, I quickly bring him into a tight embrace, allowing him to wrap his arms around my waist and head tilted into the crook of my shoulder blade as he mutters many thank you and sorry under his breath. It becomes more challenging for me to ignore my own tears when feeling him wetting my shoulder, and instead, I hold him tighter to memorize the softness of his creamy skin under my palm.
I know what we harbour is true love, the kind that most would be envious of, for our time in this very chamber was not only spent on lovemaking. More times than I can measure, we merely recounted our week while indulging in each other's company, disclosing some of our deepest insecurities and sharing common interests. I could not help but think, during our shared nights, what would transpire if things were different? If I were an individual of a higher class, would we ever be compelled to cut our adoration so abruptly? Would we be married and have children by now?
I could only sigh in dismay once more and omit the little hope I held of a future with Anthony Bridgerton, savouring our last moment together.
