Page 73 of Forbidden Vows

“And that was amazing. Wasn’t it?” And his hand is between my thighs.

“It was.” I gasp against him as he pleasures me. I’m drowning in sensations that are overwhelming my better judgment. I shake my head, denying his words, denying myself, even as my body betrays me, leaning into his touch. “This time feels different.”

His fingers slip between my thighs, stroking gently, drawing out a soft moan from deep within me. I can feel his rough calluses, a stark reminder of the reality I'm trying to escape. My body arches into his, even as my mind screams to stop.

"No, Blaze," I gasp, one final attempt at reason, but his name on my lips is a broken plea, a surrender masquerading as resistance. His hands grip my waist, lifting me onto the polished wooden table behind us. The cool surface jolts me, but it's not enough to override the heat of his body, the fire in his touch. Same as before.

"I’m going to miss you so much,” he confesses.

"I’ll miss you too. Which is why we should stop.” My voice is barely a whisper as he kisses my neck, each touch chipping away at my resolve.

His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher, exposing more of my bare skin to the cool air of the church. I shiver, but it’s not from the cold. It’s from the way his touch electrifies me, awakening every nerve ending, setting my body alight.

"Blaze, please," I beg. This time, I know I’m begging him to stop because I can’t.

His lips find mine again, silencing my pleas as he presses against me, his body hard and insistent. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, echoing my racing pulse. He reaches the very core of me, and I gasp. My hips ease into his touch, even as my mind screams in protest.

He pauses, his breath hot on my cheek as he searches my face, his voice a ragged whisper, "Tell me you don't want this, Cleo. Tell me to stop, and I will."

But the words won’t come. Instead, a soft moan escapes my lips, a white flag of surrender to the forbidden desire that is him. His eyes, intense and searching, hold mine for a moment before he leans in to kiss me again, his fingers never stopping their torturous dance.

My body jolts at the contact, a wave of pleasure and pain crashing over me. He swallows my gasps, his kiss deepening as he strokes and circles, driving me to the brink of madness.

"You're so wet, Cleopatra," he murmurs against my lips, his voice hoarse with desire.

He quickly undoes his pants. Gripping me we lock eyes for a brief moment, emotions passing between us, then I feel the head of his cock pressing hard against me and with onethrust he enters me fully. I burn and stretch to take him, the feeling immediately warming to eye-rolling pleasure.

“Oh. God.” I cling to him, my fingers running through his hair. He buries his face in my neck, thrusting again. My hips rise to meet him, my legs locking around his waist like I’ll never let him go.

Maybe I won’t.

Maybe I’ll leave here and go back with him.

He cups my face in his hand, forcing my gaze to meet his. “You sure this is the right choice for you, Cleo?”

“What do you mean?” I gasp as he thrusts inside me again, and my body experiences sheer relief from the intense friction. The knot of my legs tightens around his waist.

“What do I mean…? I don’t even know.” His voice trails off as he looks up, gazing at the ceiling of the church as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth, building a rising wave in my core. His pace escalates. He grips me tighter. His gentle movements change to desperate bucks. I’m clinging to him, meeting him at each thrust.

I’m entirely lost in the moment, the feeling of our intense coupling. The wave inside me rises. I’m on the brink of climax, ready to release. I cling to him, wanting to hold him here forever, yet knowing this is the last time we will be together.

“Oh. God.” My heart tears in two as I come. I finish, saying his name like a prayer. “Blaze.”

“Cleo.” Hot tears spill down my cheeks. He comes hard, one tight clench, holding me so tight in his arms. I feel himfilling me, heat and wet, marking me as his one last time. He cups my face, staring into my eyes.

The pleading in his gaze causes me physical pain as warm, lucid fluid flows through my veins. It’s a strange mix of emotions and feelings: the body's fulfillment with the heart's longing. My chest aches as I stare up at his face, a face I’ve grown accustomed to seeing daily.

Arms that held me. Hands that caressed me.

I whisper the words, “Is this our goodbye?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cleopatra

I need Seraphina.

After the wedding, I called Seraphina on the Uber ride home from the wedding reception, filling her in through tears on the heart-wrenching breakup sex, and the confusion I’ve been feeling ever since.

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