Hungering Teeth.

V.

MARCH 7th, 1791

𓇼

   As I lay, ensnared within the very threshold of Nori's bedroom, the plush bedding of deep reds and dark browns tangled on our bodies. He drew near, his lips, like a whisper of a summer's breeze, grazing the hollow of my chest. A warmth, subtle yet searing, coursed through me, stirring my heart to fevered rhythm, caught between the exquisite tension of desire and dread. My faith, once steadfast and unshakable, now wavered beneath the shadow of this man—this figure—of temptation—whose presence alone posed a challenge I had never before imagined, unraveling the clear distinction between right and wrong.

Nori's breath, a gentle specter, floated over my skin. It kindled within me a fire both alien and irresistible.

My breath shuddered, eyes closing shut as I squirmed the moment his lips osculated on the crook of my neck.

"Good Lord," I gasped, my voice a mere tremor as Nori's lips brushed against the tender skin of my throat. A shiver ripped through me, goosebumps rose in response to the thrill of his touch.

It took every ounce of willpower not to yield completely, not to let a whimper of need escape my lips. What spell had this man cast upon me? How could I feel so inextricably drawn to him—this embodiment of everything contrary to my beliefs?

I knew I ought to withdraw, yet, heaven, help me, I did not wish to. Not when his fingers trailed over my chest, not when his heated breath sent waves of pleasure cascading through me.

I writhed, desperate to quell the growing ache within, but escape seemed impossible. I was caught in the rapture, this overwhelming need that Nori had so expertly awakened within me.

All I could do was surrender to it, to the uncharted pleasure and the dark desires that now threatened to consume me whole.

Even as some part of me cried out in protest, I could not deny how right it felt—how much I longed, craved, and needed more of his touch.

Like a master of his craft, orchestrated my every response with his deft hands, his fingers skimming every inch of my fevered skin as though he knew instinctively the places that would send me into shivers. My body, lost in the rhythm he dictated, twisted, and writhed upon the bed.

How could I resist when he seemed to decipher every unspoken want, every hidden need I dared not acknowledge? I was swept into a spiral of pleasure—sensations I scarcely had the capacity to comprehend, let alone escape from.

Guilt wedged itself between us, a bitter frontier that snaked its way around the ravenous core of our desires. It wrapped in tendrils that twisted every concession to my baser cravings. But oh, how sweet the nectar it tasted.

My hands found their way into his hair, gripping with equal parts urgency and indecision, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

I gasped as Nori's teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of my neck, the pleasure-pain pushing me to the edge of my control.

But before I could act upon this turmoil, Nori pulled back, his dark eyes piercing into mine, searching, probing.

He raised a hand, cupping my face with a gentleness that startled me, his thumb grazing my cheek in a gesture so sweet, so unexpected, that it brought a lump to my throat. In that instant, I felt exposed, vulnerable, stripped of every defense.

"It's okay," Nori murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I won't rush you."

"Continue..." I whispered, the world barely escaping my lips.