Chapter 383: Pull Between Defiance and Surrender
Warning: Mature content in the Chapter
- - - - -
Evaline:
River’s name tore from my throat as another wave hit me- stronger, fiercer, devastating in its intensity. My back arched, and the air left my lungs in a trembling cry. I didn’t know if the walls caught my voice, or if the entire house heard me and realized what he was doing to me - but in that moment, I couldn’t care.
My world narrowed to the maddening pleasure that consumed every inch of me. My trembling hands found their way into his hair, but I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Every muscle in my body quivered, desperate for release and terrified of it all the same.
I had lost counts of how many times he had made me come already. Twice? Thrice? Or was it already four times?
He held me still, with his one arm firm around my waist, anchoring me to him as if my breaking apart was something he needed to witness... something he wouldn’t let me escape from. He didn’t stop, not even when I shattered completely.
"R–River..." My voice cracked. "Please... I can’t-"
I wasn’t sure if I was begging him to stop or for more. My mind was lost somewhere between both.
He didn’t answer. The only reply I got was the deep, steady sound of his breathing - rough, controlled, yet trembling faintly against my skin. His hand slid lower, fingers brushing against skin that was far too sensitive, far too undone.
And his tongue? Oh Stars... it was doing all kinds of sinister things with my aching core.
"Stop," I whispered again, half pleading, half gasping. "Please... I can’t keep up-"
He lifted his head just enough for our eyes to meet. His deep green eyes were looking even darker, molten with something that wasn’t anger anymore... it was raw, hungry, and almost reverent.
"You said you didn’t want me to hold back," he murmured, his voice deep enough to shake through me. "Don’t take that back now."
The words burned through me, and before I could even form a protest, he moved again -slowly, deliberately, his lips and tongue traced the same places he had already pushed me past. My breath came in uneven bursts, and I tried to twist away, but he only caught my hand, his grip gentle yet unyielding.
It was too much. Every brush of his tongue against my clit sent sparks through me, every whisper of breath against my core unraveling whatever composure I was struggling to gather. I didn’t even realize I was trembling until he whispered my name, grounding me with that single sound.
"Look at me, Evaline."
I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze again. His expression had softened - not the ruthless control from before, but something gentler, infinitely deeper. His touch slowed, his movements deliberate now, worshipful even.
And then, just when I thought he would finally let me breathe again, he found another rhythm - one that sent me spiraling before I could even brace myself. I broke for him again, harder this time. A strangled sound escaped my throat, my fingers clutching at his shoulders for something, anything, to hold onto.
The world dissolved into fragments of color and light and sound, and when I finally came back to myself, my body was shaking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest.
He finally stilled. His breathing was as ragged as mine, his skin damp with sweat. Slowly, he lifted himself up and moved beside me, gathering me into his arms as if I were something fragile... something precious.
The contrast of his warmth against my trembling body felt almost unreal. He pressed a kiss to my temple, one hand tracing soothing circles on my back while my head rested against his bare chest. His heartbeat was steady, deep, and strong - a reminder that despite everything, we were still tethered to the same pulse.
I closed my eyes, letting myself melt against him. For a long time, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were our breathing, the faint rustle of sheets, the quiet echo of something that felt too close to love and too dangerous to name.
When I finally found my voice again, it was soft, barely above a whisper. "You are... really not going to stop, are you?"
He chuckled lightly, though there was still tension beneath it. "You are the one who told me not to hold back, remember?"
"Remind me to never say that again," I murmured, still trying to catch my breath.
His chest shook with another quiet laugh before he exhaled slowly, his tone turning tender. "You are impossible, sweet mate."
"I could say the same about you."
He looked down at me, his gaze gentle now - no longer blazing with anger or hunger, but full of quiet wonder. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. "Are you all right?"
I nodded faintly, though my body still hummed with exhaustion. "I think so. Mostly."
He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that made his entire face soften. "Good."
And yet... even in that calm after the storm, I could see it in his eyes—the battle between his need to protect me and his struggle to let me have my freedom.
I knew we would have to talk. About what I did. About what he did. About all of it.
But for now, I let him hold me.
Because as much as I wanted to fight him, to prove I could stand on my own, there was a part of me that wanted this - his possessiveness and protectiveness - just as fiercely.
His hand moved again, gently tracing the inside of my arm, up to where his tie still bound faint red marks on my wrist. He untied the silk slowly, careful not to hurt me. The fabric slid free, and he pressed his lips against the spot, as if apologizing for every bruise, every shiver he had drawn from me.
And even though my body was weak and spent, my heart was stronger than ever.
Because this - this pull between defiance and surrender - was what made us us.