Page 98 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

Looking up at me with eyes darkened by impulse, he pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear. The moonlight bathes us in silver, giving him an unobstructed view of my face. He clenches his jaw as he sees the vulnerability in my eyes, a mixture of fear and something softer, something more vulnerable.

“This… us ,” he murmurs, his voice steady but sincere. “It’s as real as the stars above us, Lailah. As inescapable as the night itself.”

I try to calm my breathing as his words sink in, both terrifying and comforting. He pulls me closer, as if his embrace alone answers my question.

“Have you ever let anyone in like this?” I whisper.

For an instant, his dark eyes hold mine. Then, slowly, he shakes his head, the answer soft but final.

“ No .”

As though it weren’t already, my heart begins to race.

“Why me?” I ask, the words trembling with the need to understand.

His hands rise, cupping my face with a steadying tenderness. His thumb brushes softly over my skin, his touch warm and grounding.

“Because you, Lailah,” he whispers, “are the only one worthy of every piece of me.”

His lips capture mine, and the world fades away.

My breath catches as his tongue moves against mine, a soft moan escaping me in surrender.

He presses into me, his body hard against mine, and I feel his length against my stomach, igniting a deep hunger I can no longer contain.

His hand, once resting lightly at my waist, now glides down my body, each touch tender, as though I am something delicate, something worth treasuring .

I bite his bottom lip, daring him to feel the fire that’s building inside me.

I pull him closer, tangling my fingers in the dark strands of his hair, and with each movement of our bodies, the need between us grows, fierce and insistent.

Gods, I want him. Casper’s hand moves from my waist to my neck, his touch gentle, yet powerful, sending shivers through me.

He kisses me deeply, but then pulls away, coming heavy, and mine, faint, a soft whisper of desire in the stillness. I tilt my face toward him, my lips aching for his, but he pulls back once more, his eyes darkening, a smile tugging at his lips—an invitation, a challenge.

"What’s so funny?" I chuckle, soft and light.

His gaze drifts to my lips, and without thinking, I bite down on my bottom lip, a teasing gesture that seems to draw him even closer. His eyes darken.

“Do that again,” he whispers, his voice low and rich with desire, “and I won’t be able to control myself.”

A smirk curls at the corner of my lips, and I do it again.

Slowly, I move down, my hand tracing the path of his neck, the firm muscle beneath my fingertips.

I lean into him, and with a gentle push, guide him onto his back.

My body hovers above his, and for a moment, I simply take him in—his face, the way his dark hair falls across his eyes.

I hesitate for just a moment before brushing the hair aside, revealing the depths of his green gaze.

I pause, drinking him in, mesmerized by the moment—by him.

As if a playful impulse takes over, I lean in and, with a quick flick of my tongue, lick the tip of his nose.

A soft giggle escapes me, light and teasing.

The sound dances in the air, and I attempt to slip away, to escape the intensity of the moment.

But before I can even take a step, Casper’s strong arms envelop me, pulling me back into him in a warm, secure embrace.

Just as quickly, I’m airborne, lifted and thrown effortlessly over his shoulder.

I laugh louder now, the sound spilling out like music in the still night, and as we make our way toward the cave, I catch glimpses of the rugged stone walls, a distant fire casting shadows across the entrance.

There’s something wild, something untamed about this place, and yet, in his arms, I feel safe, as though this very moment was meant for us.

He carries me with ease, stepping into the cool darkness of the cave. The world around us seems to fade, the only sound now is our shared laughter, the whisper of the night outside lost behind the stone walls.

Casper lowers me onto the furs with a quiet reverence, his touch careful and unhurried.

The softness beneath me is a stark contrast to the heat rising between us, the tension forming low in my belly as his body follows, pressing in close.

He hovers above me, both of his elbows resting on either side of my face, and I can feel the warmth between us, intimate and electric.

But then, with a sudden shift, he stands up, and my laughter falters, an expectant silence settling over us.

I watch, transfixed, as he begins to unbutton his shirt, each button undone slowly, one by one.

My gaze follows the movement of his fingers, trailing across the lines of his chest, and then, with a fluid motion, he slides the shirt off his body.

Underneath, swirling tattoos mark his skin, intricate designs that pull the eye to one in particular—a flower, its petals curling just like the one I found left in my tent.

Delicate and wild all at once, it blooms over his skin as if it had always belonged there.

Beneath the flower, more patterns emerge.

Lines coil like smoke, some rigid, others fluid, weaving together like pieces of a story I’ve yet to decipher.

Some trace constellations. Others curl like runes or creatures caught mid-motion, shifting between beauty and warning.

They don’t just decorate him. They guard him, hold memories he chose not to forget, secrets stitched into his skin and kept just out of reach.

My heart skips a beat. I can’t look away, captivated by the way his body moves, the grace and strength in every shift. But as he tosses the shirt aside, I see him hesitate, his fingers hovering at his waist, just above the belt. The pause catches me off guard, and my breath catches in my throat.

His eyes remain locked on me, watching, waiting—waiting for something. For me .

I tilt my head as if to answer his unvoiced question.

Reaching in front of me, I tug at the tie of my loose tunic, the fabric brushing softly against my skin as it starts to fall away with a gentle whisper.

The air between us feels charged, as if the very act of undressing has deepened our connection.

Casper’s gaze intensifies, his breath held in quiet anticipation, waiting, watching, every muscle taut.

I step out of my slacks, leaving my entire body bare to the cool air around us.

Normally, the idea of being vulnerable like this—naked around a man—feels wrong or unsafe, but with him, I feel a strange sense of belonging, like I’ve finally found a place where I can truly be myself.

I feel his eyes trace every inch of me, hungry and tender all at once.

My fingers move to his pants, working them off with a fumbling touch, pulling them down as my body falls with them.

When I look up, Casper’s eyes are fixed on me, dark and intense. He reaches for my chin, gently guiding me upward, his touch sending a shiver through me. Quietly, firmly, he leads me backward, step by step, until my body meets the bedroll on the cave floor.

With the grace of a man who’s taken his time to learn every part of me, Casper crawls on top, his body moving achingly, tantalizingly slow.

He shifts me gently, and with a final, tender motion, he places my head softly on the pillows, the cave’s silence filled only by the sound of our breathing.

My hands glide over his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath my fingertips.

I let them trace softly along his sides, then slide them upward to his neck.

With a pull, I draw him closer, and Casper captures my mouth with his, his tongue pressing firmly against mine. The ache for more is undeniable.

Grasping his tongue, I suck it deeply, savoring his reaction—a low, guttural growl that sends a shiver down my spine. His hand moves to my neck, pulling me closer, his grip firm and thrilling. When our mouths meet again, the intensity is all-consuming, a fire I could drown in, lost in his taste.

I nip at his bottom lip, a tease, and he responds by letting one hand slide down to my waist, stopping just shy of what I crave.

My fingers leave his neck and guide his hand lower, urging him toward where I need his touch the most. When his fingers find their place, the sensation makes my back arch into him, my body seeking more.

His movements send waves of heat coursing through me, leaving me gasping and pleading for the release only he can give.

Casper leans down, his breath warm against my skin, and slides two fingers inside me with ease. I gasp as a wave of pleasure surges through me, every nerve igniting under his touch.

Gods, this feels so good.

I can barely form a coherent thought, lost in the rhythm he sets.

He moves in and out of me effortlessly, his fingers slick with my essence, drawing soft gasps from my lips with every motion.

Desperate for more, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, silently begging him to take me further. But it’s not enough— I need more.

With a surge of boldness, I grab hold of him and roll us over, pinning him beneath me.

Straddling his hips, I let my hand trail down, wrapping around his length.

The weight and heat of him in my hand sends a rush of anticipation and desire through me.

I stroke him slowly, savoring the way his body responds as he utters a deep, guttural moan that stokes the fire building inside me.

Driven by my need, I guide him toward me, aligning him at my entrance. But before I can take him in, Casper moves swiftly, lifting me with ease and laying me on my back. He hovers over me, his eyes dark with desire, searching mine with a tenderness that makes my breath hitch.

“Are you sure?”

Longing and restraint are at war in his voice as he gives me a moment to decide.

I tilt my head, a playful smile spreading across my lips at the tenderness of his question.

Without hesitation, I lean in, biting his bottom lip softly before pulling him down against me.

The sound of his growl deepens, vibrating against my skin.

My lips brush against his ear as I nip at it, whispering breathlessly.

"I want you, only you."

Casper's hand circles my neck as his mouth crashes into mine. Our tongues tangle in a desperate, frenzied dance, teeth clumsily grazing in our shared urgency. His need matches mine, unrestrained.

I feel him against me, his length teasing my clit as he moves it slowly back and forth, igniting a fire within me.

My body arches into him, aching for more.

Then, finally, he pushes the tip inside me, forcing a sharp gasp from my lips.

He pauses, his restraint palpable, before sinking another inch, moaning against the curve of my neck.

My lips find the curve of his throat, and I bite down, wanting to mark him as mine, to leave a part of me imprinted on him.

The sensation seems to unleash something within him, and with one powerful thrust, Casper drives into me completely.

The stretch is exquisite, a mix of pleasure and sweet ache that leaves me gasping his name, utterly consumed by him.

“Gods,” he groans through clenched teeth, his voice thick with hunger barely held in check.

His grip tightens around my hips as he thrusts into me again, each movement harder, deeper—driven by something primal.

Every inch of him fills me, claims me in a way that makes the rest of the world fall away.

My back arches instinctively, chasing every drop of pleasure that builds and builds until it becomes too much to hold.

“You were made for me,” he growls, his voice ragged against my ear. “The way you take me... gods , Lailah.”

My hands wind around his neck, fingers tangling in his damp hair, holding him close as my body trembles beneath him. Every drive of his hips sends another shockwave through me. My moans fall from my lips in broken pleas, and still, he gives me more.

“Casper...” I gasp, the sound of his name cracking in my throat, desperate and wild. “Don’t stop. Please?—”

He pulls me against him, his chest slick with sweat, our bodies locked in an unrelenting rhythm. I claw at his shoulders, needing more, needing all of him. My legs wrap around his waist as he drives into me again, harder than before.

“Let go for me,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against my ear. “Come for me, Lailah.”

His words unravel me—no, detonate me. My body seizes with pleasure, violent and all-consuming. A cry rips from my throat, ragged and wild, as every muscle clenches around him, the orgasm tearing through me like a storm given form—merciless, unrelenting, holy.

Casper doesn’t falter. He groans like a man undone, dragging his mouth across my throat, open and hungry. His fangs graze my skin—not gently, not softly—but with the sharp promise of possession. And then, he bites.

The pain is exquisite—a jolt of fire ripping down my spine, colliding with the pleasure still wracking my body.

My back arches. Another climax consumes me, sharper than the first—so sharp it’s almost cruel.

My vision whitens. My nails score his back as I gasp his name like a prayer I don’t know how to stop saying.

He thrusts once. Twice. Then breaks with a guttural snarl.

His body stiffens as he comes, spilling into me with a heat that sinks into every aching part of me.

His arms wrap around my body, holding me through the aftershocks that ripple like lightning beneath my skin.

Then he collapses against me, our breaths tangled, his heart pounding like an echoing war drum.

I don’t want this moment to end.

I don't want to lose this connection that feels so absolute. I bury my face against his chest, pressing soft kisses against his skin, taking in his warmth as my own body slowly comes down from the fire he ignited. A shiver runs down my spine, and Casper’s fingers follow its path, his touch light and teasing.

Without pulling out of me, he reaches for the blanket, pulling it over us and cocooning us in its warmth.

We lay there, tangled together in every possible way, our bodies and souls intertwined.

In this quiet, intimate moment, I feel utterly his—safe, wanted, and whole.

He rests his chin on my head, pressing a soft kiss into my hair.

“Sleep, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

And I do. Sleep takes me, and so does the comfort of this night. I know I’ll never forget this.