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She left the bed to open the door, leaning into the corridor to listen. At once, she understood. It was the piano. Davron was playing.
The candles in the hallway lit the path to him, although she would’ve found her way by the sound alone. As she drew closer, the distinct notes became discernible. The melody was impossibly intricate and unlike any music she knew.
The doors of the piano room were open and she went in without announcing herself, not wanting to interrupt him. Davron did not notice her. He was immersed in the music, his back to her. Bathed in silvery moonlight, he played with grace and ease. The sound of the music was rich and resounding, enhanced by the formidable acoustics of the room.
Should she pretend she had not heard, and go back to his bed? Would it annoy him that she’d snuck up on him? Before she could decide, the tempo of the music slowed right down and then stopped. Davron left his hands resting on the keys, deep in thought.
“That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard,” she said.
He turned around, his expression raw and unguarded. The magnitude of the pain and passion in his eyes shocked her.
She crossed to him and took his scarred, beautiful face in her hands. At once, just by touching him, she felt whole again. A now familiar warmth pooled in her stomach and made her bold.
Without thinking, without censoring herself, she said the words in her heart. She told him that she needed him like a flower needs the sun.
When she searched his eyes, her unbridled desire reflected back at her. He pulled her closer, and she felt the heat rising from his body. It made the pool of warmth in her stomach overflow, spilling into her blood, and igniting her.
“Davron, I need you,” she whispered to him.
He groaned and stood up, lifting her clean off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he walked from the piano room. As he carried her along the corridors to his chambers, they alternated kissing feverishly and gazing into each other’s eyes.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” he asked her in a serious tone. “Do you know what’s about to happen?”
“I do.” She buried her face into his neck. “And I want nothing more.”
In his chambers, he set her down at the foot of his bed. He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her with hungry lips. Her small hands ran down his torso and stopped at his trousers, tugging at the band insistently.
He pulled his shirt over his head and cast it aside, showing his bare torso to her for the first time. As she admired him, he watched her in silence. Somehow, she felt both very peaceful and very excited at once.
His body, like his face, appeared sculpted from stone. His broad chest was muscular, with a dark tuft of hair between his pectorals. The hair ran downward in a straight line through the center of prominent abdominal muscles, disappearing into the band of his pants.
Covering his torso were the same scars and tattoos as the rest of his flesh. The ink branded him seemingly without rhyme or reason, except to depict visions of darkness and despair. Through skeletons and graveyard scenes, a thick tattooed chain wound around his entire body. His scars were raised and jagged like the one on his face, as if they had not been stitched.
Amelie placed her palm on his chest, his heart thudding into her hand. As he stared down at her, she could feel powerful surges of heat igniting his skin.
“More,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip. “I want to see all of you.”
“As you wish.”
With a smirk, he tugged his pants off and kicked them aside, his rigid manhood springing free.
His legs were covered in tattoos that climbed his muscular thighs, into the dark curls of hair on his groin. A sword was inked along his enormous shaft. Amelie reached out and stroked the velvety underside of his cock, tracing a bulging vein, causing Davron’s entire body to tense. He flexed his fingers repeatedly and clenched his jaw, as if resisting an almost overwhelming urge.
The skin was smooth to the touch, encasing solid steel. His erection was even thicker than she had imagined and at once, she understood his fear of hurting her. This realization did not cause her excitement to abate, only expand. The sight and feel of his cock dumped a river of lava into her groin and she wanted nothing more than to be filled with the entirety of him.
His eyes flashed, seeming to read her mind.
“Last chance to back out,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
She said nothing, only gave him a sly half smile, and slid the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. She shimmied out of the gown to reveal her naked body.
His tongue flicked across his teeth as he drank in her lithe form, before he grabbed her by the waist and picked her up. He held her by her ass while she wrapped her legs around him, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. Her hot wetness pressed against his abdominals.
He pushed her into him farther, stamping her arousal on his flesh and making her moan. Before the moan could leave her throat completely, he kissed her, prying her lips open with his tongue and tasting her mouth.
His tongue massaging hers, he carried her to the unmade bed and lowered her onto it. She felt his cock press against her body, making her dizzy with desire. Were they finally going to make love? Really and truly? If he refused her again, she thought she’d expire from frustration.
He drew back, but only long enough to reposition himself over her.
