Page 55 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
Two fingers, thick, textured, curling just right. She clenched around them, panting, already close.
His other hand gripped her hip, steadying her as he fucked her with his fingers, grinding his cock against her clit with every thrust of his hips.
The world narrowed.
Her body felt lit from within.
Her skin glowed. Literally.
She saw it. So did he.
Light pulsed at her collarbones, her thighs, her fingertips. Golden and flickering and alive.
He stilled.
“No,” she gasped, bucking her hips. “Don’t stop—please—”
But his fingers had gone still inside her. His chest heaved.
His face was tight with something between awe and terror.
“You’re burning,” he whispered.
“Good,” she snapped. “Let me—let me—”
He eased his fingers from her slowly, like she was made of flame.
She sobbed at the loss.
His body still trembled. His cock still pressed against her, so hard it looked painful. But he pulled back, just enough to set her down on shaky legs.
She staggered, reaching for him, but he caught her wrists before she could touch him.
He looked at her like she was both sacred and untouchable.
“I can’t lose another,” he said, voice cracked. “Not like before.”
She froze.
“What?”
He shook his head, jaw tight.
“I won’t watch you burn out.”
And then he was gone.
He stepped back into the dark, retreating with brutal self-control. Every step away from her felt like a door slamming.
Nora stood alone, skin still glowing faintly, thighs wet, body shaking.
Her breath hitched.
She screamed.
Into the quiet. Into the wind. Into the stars.
It didn’t matter. He was already gone.
