"A Flame that Fades"

Chapter 33: Unveiled Desires 🔞

WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content intended for mature audiences. If this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this chapter. Reader discretion is advised.

Azgar's POV

Her hands stayed loosely around my neck, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the skin there, sending faint shivers down my spine. The sweet scent of honey and lavender clung to her, mixing with the warmer, earthy notes of her skin as the late afternoon sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over everything. 

God, she was breathtaking—the way the light caught the edges of her hair, turning it into a soft cascade, and how her eyes held mine with that quiet confidence that made my stomach twist in the best and worst ways.

My hands trembled at my sides, even as I tried to steady my breathing, my pulse thudding loud in my ears like a distant drum. Why was I so damn nervous? I'd looked into this stuff enough to know the basics, but theory was nothing compared to the reality of her—close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body. Dammit, pull yourself together, Azgar. Nothing's even happened yet, and I'm already dissolving under her gaze, my mind racing with a thousand what-ifs.

Was it the tea that T'Shaw had brewed? No, that couldn't be it. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, acutely aware of the growing pressure in my pants as my body reacted to her nearness, the fabric of my trousers shifting uncomfortably against her thigh.

I'd never felt this kind of nerves in my life—not during fights, not on the road. What if I messed this up? What if I hurt her somehow, or worse, stirred up those shadows from her past that she rarely spoke about? The thought made my chest tighten, a protective instinct warring with the desire building inside me.

"Azgar? You're all flushed. Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and laced with concern, a small, worried smile curving her lips as she tilted her head to study my face.

"Y-yeah, it's just...we've never been this close before, and you're so gorgeous it's making me nervous," I managed to sputter, my words tumbling out in a rush, heat creeping up my neck.

"Don't overthink it," she whispered, her palms sliding slowly down my chest, the warmth of her touch seeping through my shirt and grounding me for a moment. She leaned in and pressed a light kiss to the tip of my nose, the gesture so simple and affectionate that it eased some of the tension knotting my shoulders.

Then she stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress with both hands, the fabric whispering against her legs. She turned her back to me, glancing over her shoulder with a shy invitation in her eyes. "Can you help me?" Her voice was gentle, almost hesitant, as she nodded toward the row of tiny buttons running down the back of her dress.

With fingers that felt clumsy and slick with nerves, I reached for the first one, fumbling as I tried to slip it free from its loop. Come on, I cursed under my breath, wiping my palm on my thigh before trying again. One by one, they gave way—slowly, deliberately—revealing the smooth line of her spine, the faint freckles dusting her shoulders like scattered stars. The air in the room felt thicker now, charged with anticipation, and I could hear my own breathing, ragged and uneven.

Finally, as the last button came undone, she turned to face me, the dress loosening around her like a sigh. It slipped from her shoulders in a slow cascade, pooling at her ankles in a soft heap of fabric. She stepped out of it carefully, her bare feet padding against the floor, and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Fuck. How could someone be this perfect? I'd always thought her face was a gift—those expressive eyes, the way her smile lit up even the dimmest corners—but now, seeing her like this, bare and unshielded, it felt like the world had narrowed to just her. Her skin glowed in the fading light, curves soft and real, not some idealized form but hers, inviting and human.