Page 98 of Cursed Dreams
She kissed him again, and this time there was no caution left. Just hunger and hope and the deep ache of two souls finally colliding. The moss beneath them was soft as they sank to the forest floor, still wrapped in each other’s arms. The moonlight around them flickered brighter, casting Caelum’s black hair in silver glints, catching in his lashes, turning his pale eyes to starlight.
Caelum’s coat slipped from her hands, followed by his shirt, leaving him bare before her. Thalia’s breath hitched. He looked as though he’d been sculpted by the gods themselves, broad shoulders tapering to a hard, lean waist, every inch of him honed and powerful. His chest rose and fell, muscles taut beneath skin that gleamed softly in the light, warm and impossibly smooth beneath her fingertips. She explored him with reverence, trailing her hands over the hard ridges of his abdomen, the deep cut of his hips, the thick, coiled strength in his arms. Each subtle shift of his body beneath her touch sent heat coiling low inside her, the promise of ancient, restrained power thrumming just beneath the surface. She looked up to see he was watching her, his eyes heavy-lidded, dark with desire.
“You are…” He reached for her slowly, brushing hair from her face. “Thalia, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her breath trembled at the words. At the way he looked at her like she was his universe.
His hands began to move lower, slow and careful, giving her every chance to stop him. He found the ties of her dress, undoing them one by one with agonizing precision, his fingers warmagainst her chilled skin. The fabric loosened and slid from her shoulders, pooling around her waist.
He let out a strained breath as he took her in, eyes raking over every inch now exposed to him. “Stars above…”
Thalia flushed, suddenly shy, her arms twitching to cover herself. Caelum caught her wrists shaking his head, his expression so full of reverence she could barely breathe. “Don’t hide,” he whispered. “Please don’t hide from me.”
With trembling fingers she let the last of the fabric slip from her skin. She stood before him, completely bare, her heart thudding deep in her chest. Beneath the weight of his gaze, heated, hungry, full of desire, she didn’t feel exposed. She felt worshipped
He leaned in, brushing a kiss to her collarbone, then lower, the tips of his fingers trailing reverently down her arms, her ribs, her waist. The contact sent waves of heat and anticipation spiralling through her.
“I dreamed of this,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder. “What your skin would feel like beneath my hands. How your breath would hitch… just like that.” He kissed the swell of her breast, his voice growing rough. “But dreams are shadows compared to you.”
He took her nipple between his lips, warm and soft, and she gasped, her fingers threading into his black hair. When he sucked gently, her back arched toward him of its own accord, the moss beneath her cool against fevered skin. A soft moan slipped from her lips as his mouth claimed her other breast, his hands sliding to her waist, strong, steady, possessive. Every inch of him was muscle and heat, thrumming with restrained power, shiftingbeneath her touch. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths, each one winding the tension tighter between them.
“I love every inch of you,” he said, voice hoarse. “Every sound you make. Every heartbeat. You are mine, Thalia. You always were.”
Her throat tightened at the raw truth in his voice, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness, but from the way he looked at her, like she was seen in every way that mattered, body and soul. When he kissed her again, deep and slow and full of need, she forgot everything but the feel of him, the taste of his mouth, the way her body yielded to his as if it had always belonged there.
Caelum’s kiss deepened, but it was the way his hands moved, slow and sure, that made her knees tremble. He took his time, as if every inch of her deserved its own moment of worship. His mouth followed the trail of his hands, leaving a heated path across her ribs, her hips, the tender skin of her inner thigh, until she was trembling, aching, her skin flushed and desperate for more.
Thalia couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.
Her fingers clenched around his shoulders, nails raking over his skin as she writhed beneath him, lost to the heat of his mouth, the sharp tease of his teeth, the rasp of stubble against her hypersensitive skin, each touch pulling another gasp from her lips
He made a sound against her thigh, low, rough, hungry, she whimpered at the vibration of it. “You’re so responsive,” he rasped, his voice husky with need. “Every sound you make is... intoxicating.”
His mouth moved higher up the inside of her thigh, trailing kisses that made her arch beneath him. She bit her lip as a moan escaped, her legs parting slightly, as if her body already knew what it wanted before her mind could catch up.
When he glanced up at her, his pale blue eyes were dark with heat, his lips glistening.
“Thalia,” he whispered, reverent and aching all at once. “Let me show you what you need.”
She could only nod, breathless.
He moved lower, dragging his mouth over her skin with deliberate hunger. His kisses grew rougher, more demanding, until he was between her thighs, feasting on her with raw, unrestrained need. His tongue flicked and circled her clit with wicked precision, each stroke sending sharp jolts of pleasure through her. A broken cry escaped her lips, her body trembling, hips arching helplessly into his mouth, so close to shattering she could barely breathe. Her thighs shook, her hips bucking uncontrollably, but he only gripped her harder, pinning her in place, holding her open for his mouth. He worked her with ruthless precision, tongue and lips finding every spot that made her gasp and moan, every quiver and helpless shudder. And when he locked onto that sensitive bundle of nerves, he attacked it with devastating intent, licking, sucking, fucking her with his mouth until she was gasping his name, teetering on the edge of release.
Thalia’s head fell back, hair tangling in the moss, her fingers fisting in his hair, her body strung taut on the edge of a pleasure so fierce it threatened to consume her. He groaned against her, and the sound of it, the feel of it, sent her spiralling. Pressure built like a storm behind her ribs, heat coiling in her belly, her whole-body trembling beneath him.
“Caelum,” she gasped, barely recognizing her own voice.
He didn’t stop. Not until she broke apart beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over her, her body arching, her cry lost to the wind that whispered through the forest.
He kissed her through it, holding her hips, easing her back from the edge until she collapsed into the moss, boneless and panting, her skin flushed and humming with lingering pleasure
Above her, Caelum rose slowly, his expression somewhere between awe and fierce pride, as if the very act of bringing her to pleasure had been a holy offering.
“You are,” he said softly, brushing a kiss to her temple, “the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Thalia laughed breathlessly, still half-dazed. “You… you can’t just say things like that.”
His smile turned devilish. “Why not? Every word is true.”
