Page 47 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

“What is it, ashpetal?” he whispered, his lips curling into a wicked smile against my neck.

He didn’t give me time to answer. His fingers moved faster, curling up inside me in just the right way while his thumb pressed down hard on my clitoris.

My entire body jerked as if struck by lightning.

The orgasm ripped through me, sharp and overwhelming, making me cry out his name again and again as my hips writhed against his hand, desperately seeking every last flicker of ecstasy.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his voice husky with satisfaction as he pulled his fingers out and began to slap my clit lightly with his wet fingers. The sharp, wet sounds echoed around the room, mixing with my whimpering moans as he prolonged my orgasm until my thighs were shaking uncontrollably.

Finally, when the last wave ebbed away, I opened my eyes and met his gaze. He was smiling softly, not demanding anything in return, just watching me with dark, tender pride.

The warmth blooming in my chest felt like something dangerous. Something that could melt the ice I’d wrapped around my heart for so long.

“I…” I started, but he cut me off with a playful smirk.

“Please…” he said in mock arrogance, kissing my cheek softly. “You can thank me. I’m always happy to deliver orgasms.”

I let out a weak laugh, my hands still trembling on the keys.

“Shall we play four hands now?” he asked, placing both his hands on the piano.

I licked my lips nervously and nodded, embarrassed as I noticed the smudges of my wetness he’d left on the keys.

“Together…” I whispered.

“Together,” he echoed.

We began playing the melody again, this time in perfect harmony. His hands guided mine, weaving rich chords beneath my fragile melody, creating something achingly beautiful. We played it again. And again. Ten times, maybe more. I lost count. I didn’t want to leave.

Time blurred away, the moon outside disappearing behind dark clouds, leaving the room in near total darkness. My eyes grew heavy, and I yawned, my body sagging against him with exhaustion.

Desmond wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me easily onto the piano lid. My skirt fell back around my hips as he spread my thighs apart with deliberate slowness.

I blinked up at him sleepily as he licked his lips and then, without any warning, dove forward, plunging his tongue deep inside me.

“Ah—!” I gasped in surprise, my hands flying back to brace against the piano as his tongue fucked into me with wet, swirling strokes. The piercings in his tongue pressed against my inner walls, sending wave after wave of delirious pleasure flooding through my limbs.

He moaned against me, gripping my thighs tighter, his fingers leaving hot bruises on my skin. Between each deep thrust of his tongue, he flicked my clit, pressing down just right to make me sob his name.

It didn’t take long for the pleasure to crest again, my hips lifting off the piano as I came for the second time, the world turning white and blinding as his tongue milked every drop of ecstasy from me.

When I finally collapsed back onto the piano lid, panting and shaking, he climbed up over me, straddling my hips as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips were soft and tasted of my own release. He bit down gently on my lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.

My eyes fluttered shut. I felt so impossibly tired. Warm. Safe.

I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep, his scent and heat wrapping around me like a protective darkness.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Eveline

After a hard day in the vineyards, my arms and legs buzzed with exhaustion, though it was a pleasant, tingling ache that spread warmly through my limbs. All I wanted was to flop into bed and sleep until dawn.

Astra and I said our good nights, offering each other quiet prayers and soft hugs before parting ways.

When I stepped into my room, I exhaled deeply. The air smelled sweet, heavy with the scent of summer flowers drifting through the open window that faced the forest. Beyond it, an incredible pink-peach sunset spread across the sky, painting the trees in soft gold and rose hues.

Birds swooped low, chattering their sleepy evening songs to each other in their secret bird language.

I leaned against the windowsill to take it all in. That was when I noticed a letter lying there.

It was black with gold edging, sealed with a wax stamp the color of rich gold, black threads twisted delicately through it. Ominous… yet undeniably beautiful. My name was written on it in perfect, calligraphic script, so elegant it almost glowed.

I reached out, gently prying away the seal with careful fingers. The moment I unfolded the paper, a familiar scent enveloped me.

It smelled of him. Desmond. There was no mistaking that dark, masculine warmth laced with something luxurious like expensive leather chairs in the lounges of ancient mansions, golden liqueur, and forbidden pleasures.

“What the… When did he get into my room?” I muttered to myself. “Maybe someone brought it in…”

Clutching the letter, I walked quickly to Astra’s door and knocked. Luckily, she was still awake.

“Astra,” I called softly, “did you see anyone come in to deliver something to my room?”

She opened the door, rubbing her eyes, then noticed the black and gold envelope in my hands. Her sleepy gaze turned sly, a knowing smirk curving her lips.

“No, why?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I found this on my windowsill… but I didn’t hear anyone come in. Who could’ve delivered it?”

Astra shrugged with exaggerated innocence, but her smile betrayed her. She knew exactly whom it was from, just like I did.

“All the correspondence goes to the front collection box,” she said, stretching her arms overhead before leaning against her doorway.

“They sort it there before bringing anything in. So… if this was on your windowsill, he probably delivered it himself. Or maybe asked someone… but it’s unlikely the sisters would run such a little errand for him. ”

She shrugged again, eyes glittering with mischief. “Good night. Tell me tomorrow what’s going on, okay?”

I nodded silently and returned to my room, closing the door behind me.

The sunset still glowed beyond the forest. The warm breeze kissed my skin, fragrant with pine and wild roses. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in the summer night. The forest was quiet now, no voices or footsteps, nothing to betray his presence.

But… what if he was watching me from somewhere nearby, hidden among the trees?

At that thought, a hot shiver coiled through my stomach. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I realized my clitoris throbbed in approval at the mere idea of him lurking there, watching me like some dark angel with impure intentions.

I swallowed hard and turned back to the letter, carefully unfolding the soft, silk-like paper. The words written in dark ink flowed with elegant power:

Dear Eveline,

I, Desmond de Soreil, officially invite you to the VIP lounge, where you will watch the elite race of this century. All the most famous racers in the world will be there. It will be legendary.

And you didn’t believe you could make good money riding bikes… you’ll see for yourself, my love.

Use this letter as your passageway, but you must wear the bracelet enclosed within. Without it, you won’t be allowed into my VIP lounge.

I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. sharp, before the race begins. Come early so we can talk.

Kisses, Desmond.

I peeked back into the envelope and found a gold bracelet tucked neatly inside. It was minimalistic, just a thin, polished band with barely visible patterns engraved along its edges.

But when I turned it in the dimming light, I noticed words inscribed inside:

“Eveline, property of Desmond de Soreil.”

I rolled my eyes with a frustrated sigh. Typical him. Possessive and arrogant.

Still… curiosity gnawed at me, so I slipped it onto my wrist to see how it looked. The cold metal kissed my skin before the clasp clicked shut with a soft finality.

Instantly, a chill rippled through my entire body.

Panic sparked in my chest as I fumbled at the clasp, trying to remove it. But there was nothing there, it had seemingly melted away into the metal, fusing seamlessly with the bracelet itself.

I tugged at it again, harder this time, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn it…” I muttered under my breath, anxiety flooding through my veins. “That bastard… I’ll make a scene for him over this.”

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to calm down. The race was tomorrow morning, and I needed rest before talking to Eata to arrange a short absence under the guise of a personal parishioner request.

I slipped under my sheets with the bracelet still cold and heavy on my wrist, my mind buzzing with questions, anger, and an undeniable thrill of anticipation as the last light of sunset faded into night.

I woke up at dawn as usual, the soft grey light spilling through the windows and brushing across the stone floor. After my morning prayers, everything went as calmly as ever, the chants and quiet hymns echoing gently through the halls and filling me with a fleeting sense of peace.

But as soon as the prayers ended, I approached Eata to speak with her.

“What is it, lambkin?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied me with gentle concern. “Is something bothering you? You look tense today…”

“No, no… it’s just…” I exhaled shakily, my fingers tightening around the hem of my robe. In my mind, I whispered that there was nothing wrong with what I was about to say. I wasn’t lying entirely, it wasn’t a sin.

“I need to leave for a couple of hours,” I said softly, keeping my gaze lowered. “It’s… a personal request from a parishioner. He needs support in something important to him, and he asked me to attend an event for him.”