I watched the waves cascade through the beautiful ocean. The dolphins and whales rose up and down, their gentle movements a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. Though I was scared, part of me knew that in the end, it might not be a happy ending. Deep down, I had a feeling history would repeat itself. After all, we were forbidden lovers, and half of me had expected that.
I searched for Slavvy throughout the house, my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, I found him in the library, still staring at the empty pages. "Slavvy," I said, walking in, and he looked up at me. His eyes were bloodshot red, and a bottle of whiskey sat on top of the messy desk, surrounded by books, as if he was trying to piece together our love story.
"I'm a failure," he said, his voice laced with desperation. He knew there was nothing he could do to change our fate, to change our destiny.
"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting on top of him, my legs laying side by side, while I seductively stroked his hair.
"You know doing that will end up with you in pain," he said, his mouth slightly open. I knew he enjoyed the pleasure.
"I will do anything to make you feel better right now," I uttered desperately
He rolled his head, seeming to focus on me which
And then, he drew me close, his lips brushing mine with a fierce, desperate urgency. I felt the weight of his emotions, the raw need behind his gaze, and my heart raced, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. It was a dangerous game we played, a forbidden closeness. How could we resist each other? Our ancestors had tasted the forbidden, and now we were caught in the same current, pulled together by something unstoppable.
He held me firmly, his hands resting against my back—not in want, but in claiming, grounding me to him. I shivered under his touch, the intensity of his presence sending warmth through me.
He lifted me effortlessly, our bodies pressed close, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. The scattered books on the floor went unnoticed as our hearts beat together in a steady rhythm. He pressed gentle kisses along my cheek and jaw, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
I clung to him, feeling the strength in his arms, the possessiveness in his gaze. "All of this… just for me?" I whispered, a small smile breaking through my tension.
He grinned, pulling me even closer. "Always," he murmured. "You have me, every piece."
We lingered in that closeness, movements slow, deliberate, savoring the warmth and presence of one another. Every brush of his hands, every tilt of our bodies, was an unspoken promise, a claim neither time nor circumstance could undo.
"Slavvy…" I whispered, barely audible.
His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unwavering. "You're mine," he said, voice low and steady. "Always."
I felt his strength surrounding me, a force that both comforted and thrilled me. His hands traced gentle paths along my back, his fingers brushing against my arms, leaving a lingering warmth in their wake.
"I need you close," I admitted, my breath shaky but steady.
"You'll always have me," he replied, his lips brushing my temple. "No one else. No matter what."
We stayed like that for a long moment, caught in the quiet storm of our own making. The world around us—the scattered books, the library, the ocean beyond the windows—faded away. Only the slow, deliberate rhythm of our hearts mattered, only the pull between us that neither of us could deny.
His voice softened, low and dangerous. "I'll never let you go. You're mine."
And I believed him. Every word, every touch, every lingering glance, was a promise we could never break. A promise that bound us in trust, in danger, and in a love that was as intoxicating as it was forbidden.
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