Page 115 of Eternal

My hands tangled in her soft curls, pulling her closer until the fridge behind me was entirely cold against my back.

Then, without a word, I yanked her up, grabbed her thighs, and lifted her like she was nothing but weightless. Her legs wrapped around my waist tight and instinctive, and she laughed low, breath rough and broken.

Perfect .

I kissed her, messy and desperate, like trying to swallow every part of her. Bare skin pressed against bare skin, the heat of her cunt burning against me as her mouth didn’t stop.

I didn't want to stop.

Still holding her, I pushed her back against the fridge.

The cold bit through the heat, and I pushed myself into her, slow, horribly slow.

Not inside, just pressure against it, enough to make her whimper softly and gasp.

My fingers curled around her throat, just enough to feel her pulse racing beneath my palm.

Just enough to see her cheeks turn red, her scar redder .

Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.

Fuck, I’m going insane.

Her breath hitched. Eyes half-lidded, lips parted in that damn mix of control and surrender that sent something raw twisting through my soul.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” she smiled.

That face…

“Your heartbeat’s racing, partner . Think that’s my fault?”

She let out a breathy laugh as I tightened my grip, pressing her harder, feeling her pulse bang beneath my fingers. “Your dick is fucking my thighs, maybe that’s why it’s racing…” She let out gasping.

My other hand slid down her side, fingers dragging the curve of her hip before gripping her thigh, lifting it closer until she was entirely pressed against me, all soft skin and fire under my fingers. I bit down hard on her collarbone, teeth sinking in just enough to mark her again.

She gasped, fingers clutching at my shoulders, and I whispered against her skin, “You’re gonna see me every time you look in the mirror.”

Her body trembled beneath my touch, the way she shook like she wanted more but was too lost to ask.

“Sensitive much, partner ?” I taunted, lips moving down to the curve of her shoulder, my hands roaming, claiming. “Such a fucking mess for me… You like being ruined like that?”

Her eyes flashed like fire and ice. “Don’t you have such a dirty mouth here.”

I pushed her harder against the cold fridge, teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath her ear. Her breath hitched, a shaky laugh escaping her lips as she squirmed beneath me, caught but wild.

“You should kiss it…” I breathed against her mouth.

“ Fuuuuuck ...” she whispered, eyes closing, hips pushing forward against me.

“You said dessert, Azra. I’m eating till I’m full.”

She cursed softly, arching into me, trembling fingers trying to pull away but pulling me closer at the same time.

Friction. Her cunt grinding on my cock, wet and desperate, coating me in her need.

I wanted to ruin her with it.

Wanted those eyes filled with tears, wanted her to cry out, to shake, to fucking beg for more, for anything, for me .

Not because I made her do it, but because she needed it. Because I made her feel that good .

I was drunk on the heat of her, the mess of us. Her slick all over me, her thighs trembling, her breath catching… God , I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t remember anything but my name.

Until her voice broke saying it.

Every grind was me saying mine . Every moan she gave me was holy.

My fingers slid lower, coated in her, finding her clit and working it fast. She gasped, legs trembling, hips jerking toward me even as her hands scrabbled for control. Like she didn’t know where she ended and I began.

I caught her chin, firm and deliberate, and turned her face toward the glass. The windows reflected everything back. Her wrecked body, her wide, desperate teary eyes, the way she looked clinging to me, flushed and soaked.

“See that?” I murmured, breath hot on her jaw. “That’s mine .”

Her lips curled into a crooked smile, breath ragged. I crushed my mouth to hers, tongues tangling. Slick skin, ragged breaths, and heartbeats pounding against the space.

She pressed harder against me, legs still tight around my waist, like she never wanted to let go. Her breath hitched, uneven, wet whispers slipping out between kisses.

Then I felt it, her thighs shaking, soft breath choking out of her, that messy, helpless sound she made when she came like she couldn’t stop it.

Her fingers clawed into my shoulders, nails digging in like she needed something to hold onto, and she whispered, “You can’t stop, can you?”

I smirked against her mouth, voice thick with want. “Can’t help it. You feel too good not to let it end.”

She came undone fast, messy, shaking, her mouth on my neck, breath hot and desperate.

I kept grinding into her, slower, deeper, harder, like I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

My whole body locked up, against her.

One more push, her broken little whimper in my ear, the way her thighs squeezed around me like she needed me inside her, and I fucking lost it.

Without thinking, her hand slid down, grabbing my cock, grinding me hard against her stomach like she owned every inch of my being.

I laughed, half moan, half curse, half fucking gone. “Oh fuck.” I pressed my forehead to her shoulder as I came hard, spilling warm and messy over her skin.

We stayed like that, chest to chest, skin slick and trembling, breaths ragged and tangled.

She laughed softly, breathless and wrecked, and I held her closer, like maybe if I didn’t let go, none of this would ever end.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, her skin flushed, breath uneven, eyes wild and honest.

She caught my gaze, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, like she was daring me to say something real.

“You stayed ,” I said softly, fingers trembling as they brushed a stray curl from her damp forehead.

She nodded, voice barely a whisper. “I did.”

My chest tightened. I reached out, cupping her face gently. “I’m glad. More than you know.”

Her smile deepened. “You stained me,” she teased, fingers tracing over the marks I’d left on her body, her stomach. All over her.

I grinned, leaning down to kiss her softly, lips brushing against hers like a promise. “I’ll clean you up,” I murmured, my breath warm against her skin.

She laughed low, shaky, and wiped a damp curl from her face. “I’m exhausted now.”

I smiled, fingers lingering on her jaw. “Means I did my job.” I took her hand, pulling her gently toward the bathroom. “Quick shower, then the bed.”

I turned on the warm water, letting it run as I carefully washed the sweat and traces of the night from her skin, my hands lingering on every inch of her body. Every tattoo, every scar, every mark.

I can see burns, deep injuries healing, and I wonder how much she suffered.

She leaned into me, her body softening, melting against me.

I whispered, “You’re beautiful like this, Azra .”

We stood under the water, steam rising between us like a veil. I could feel the curve of her back against my chest, her breathing slow and calm.

My hand traced the slope of her arm, stopping just below her elbow. I leaned in, close enough that my lips almost brushed her cheek, but I didn’t kiss her.

She turned slightly, her face tilting up to mine. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath. Close enough that if I moved half an inch, I’d taste her again.

But I just smiled. And she smiled back, small and real, and for a second, it felt like the world was still.

We stepped out quietly, wrapped ourselves in towels, and made our way back to the bedroom. She didn’t speak.

She sat in front of the window, hair damp, wrapped loosely in cotton and moonlight, her knees tucked to her chest like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to unfold.

I sat behind her, legs on either side of her hips, and slowly let my fingers move through her hair, untangling her long curls gently.

She stared out at the sky, wide-eyed.

She almost looked sad .

“They’re bright tonight,” I said, brushing through her hair with careful fingers.

She didn’t turn around. “They are... Brighter than ever.”

“What are you thinking about?”

She exhaled softly. “I wonder if I’m allowed to want more.”

I didn’t say anything. Just rested my hand on the back of her neck, thumb tracing the edge of her spine. She leaned into the touch, like it cost her something to do it.

“You think they’re watching?” she asked. “The stars?”

“I think they are,” I said quietly. “Kind of possessive when it comes to you, partner and I don’t like the way they watch you right now.”

That got a faint smile. A real one. She turned her head just enough for me to see it, the ghost of it curving her lips.

“Then don’t let them watch,” she whispered. “Take me to bed.”

I set the brush aside. Wrapped my arms around her from behind and took her to bed.

Her skin was cold against mine. But it felt perfect.

Like she was something precious. Like she always had been.