Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 77

Aenyra exhaled sharply, her trembling hands gripping the cold edge of the bathroom vanity. She lifted her gaze to the mirror, staring at her own reflection as if searching for answers in the hollow eyes that stared back. Her thoughts grew louder, a relentless storm inside her head, though her lips remained sealed.

Aemond...

I wish you were here. I need you—your arms, your voice, your touch. Only you can quiet the chaos inside me.

Her eyes drifted closed, and instantly, he was there. She saw him as clear as day—Aemond standing behind her, tall and unyielding, his piercing gaze locked on her. The memory of his voice, that low, silken timbre, seemed to curl around her like smoke.

"Aenyra." His whisper slid against her ear like velvet, and she leaned back into the phantom of his chest.

"What do you want from me, Issa jorrāelagon?"

A shiver coursed through her, her lips parting in a soft hum. "I want you... your hands on me, in me... touching me."

A deep, rumbling laugh vibrated against her spine, sparking heat in her belly.

"Are my hands the only thing you crave inside you?" His breath fanned over her skin as his lips found her neck, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the delicate curve.

Her voice came out ragged, almost desperate. "Gods, no."

His fingers threaded through her hair, sweeping it over her shoulder. The pads of his fingertips traced the length of her arm, teasing over her collarbone, before returning to press firmly around her throat. His other hand hooked into the tied ribs that covered her, giving it a tug until it fell to the floor.

Her breath caught when her gaze snapped back to the mirror—his eye darkened, drinking her in with a hunger that scorched her. His stare dragged over the swell of her breasts, down her stomach, before lingering greedily at her center.

His hands claimed her, cupping her breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks until she gasped and tilted her head back farther into him. His tongue traced the curve of her ear before sucking her lobe into his mouth, teeth grazing with just enough pressure to make her moan.

She reached behind her, burying her fingers in his silken hair, guiding his mouth lower. His teeth grazed her shoulder before biting harder, marking her, branding her with passion.

"Aenyra," he murmured against her skin, his voice commanding yet tender. "Surrender yourself to me."

"Yes..." Her answer was a broken breath of devotion.

One of his hands continued its torment at her breast, while the other captured her hand, entwining their fingers before guiding them together down between her thighs.

"Always so wet and ready for me." he growled against her ear.

The words ignited something inside her, but in the next heartbeat, her eyes flew open.

Empty silence. The bathroom mirror reflected only her own flushed face and trembling body. The fantasy dissolved, leaving her cold, aching, and unbearably alone.

Her chest heaved as she bowed her head, the ghost of his touch still burning across her skin. Desire twisted painfully inside her, sharp and relentless.

She craved him. Needed him. And no matter how she tried to deny it, her hunger for Aemond was as consuming as it was inescapable.

She had always loved Aemond with a fire that consumed her, but to her surprise that love had only grown fiercer, more unruly, with every passing day. Even through the ache of distance, it deepened—burning hotter, brighter, until it left her restless, exhilarated, and painfully aware of the emptiness at her side.