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She didn’t resist as my fingers found their way around her throat, closing tight around the fragile flesh. The pressure felt like a warning, yet it was oddly intimate too, like a brand placed upon her gentle skin that told the world:this is mine now.
Her breathing grew shallow as my grip tightened slightly on her neck. I could feel her pulse racing as her body quivered beneath me. She was scared, I was sure of it, but I could also sense that her fear was slowly being replaced by something else.
Determination? Trust?
It didn’t matter. All that mattered were those few seconds suspended between us, those precious, lingering moments when I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.
I looked down at her, my eyes blazing with something I had never felt before. It was a mix of possessiveness, passion and tenderness.
I had found my match in her; I had found something that I never thought I would find.
“Clover,” I whispered, sweeping a gentle caress down her neck. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her trembling ceased, and I could see the fear fading from her eyes. She had given herself to me, and I knew at that moment that there was no turning back.
My lips lowered to hers and we kissed. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t sweet, it was raw and passionate and needy—two souls colliding in the heat of the moment.
She fought me as I unzipped my pants, pulled out my throbbing cock, and thrust inside of her. But even in her struggle, I knew this was what she wanted, this heat, this passion, this connection.
And in that moment, I wasn’t a villain anymore. I was just her lover, her protector. Whatever sins I may have committed in the past, whatever guilt I may have held, they vanished like smoke.
We moved together in a harsh rhythm, her tight walls gripping me as our desire grew and climax neared. Flesh slapped against flesh as I pounded into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck you!” she screamed, but there was sadness in her tone. Longing.
As her words lingered in the air, I tentatively let my fingers roam her body, tracing the length of her arms, each of her fingers, the soft curve of her hips. I felt her inhale sharply as my hands wandered to her breasts, gently kneading the supple flesh. She was warm and soft beneath my roughened touch.
“I love you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over our panting breaths, “Give me the blame, Wildflower. Give me all of it.”
I could feel her heart pound against my chest, her lips parting as my words washed over her. I hoped she understood. That in this intimate moment, I was not the monster she had feared.
Our bodies moved together, her beneath me, me above her, in a rhythm as old as time itself. Each thrust was met with a soft gasp, a clinging clutch of her hands on my back, a roll of her hips that made my head spin. She was perfection, a heady mix of desire and fear, of guilt and relief.
All that mattered was her, was us. The world outside ceased to exist as our bodies moved in sync, each breath, each heartbeat shared between us.
The tension built within us, a crescendo of lust and craving that threatened to consume us. Her tight walls clenched around me, a sweet surrender that had me reeling. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, each ragged breath a testament to the impact of our shared passion.
As my rhythm quickened, as my control teetered on the edge, I held onto her. Flesh met flesh, a sinful beat to our shared need. I felt her body tense beneath me, her grip tightening on me, her breaths coming out in short gasps.
“Clover,” I murmured against her skin, my voice barely audible over our panting. “Clover . . . fuck, I love you.”
And then, everything was silent. The world tilted as ecstasy claimed us, our bodies tightening, releasing in a wave of intense pleasure. The guilt, the fear, the obsession . . . all of it was swept away in the tidal wave of our climax, leaving behind only raw emotion and shared desire.
As our bodies slowly came down from the high, as our breaths steadied and our heartbeats slowed, I held her close. I held onto her as if she were my lifeline, as if letting go would mean plunging into a world of guilt and remorse.
The zeal of the moment faded slowly until all that was left was tenderness and peace. I lay there beside her, listening to each other’s heartbeats in sync—two souls forever bound by this sinful act.
As I lay spent, our bodies melting together in a pool of sweat and tears, I knew this burdensome guilt was no longer mine to bear. Together we had proven there could be redemption even amidst the blame and guilt.
And finally—finally—she whispered those four words neither one of us expected to hear: “I love you, too.”
CLOVER
The living room was shrouded in silence as I sat on the worn-out couch, my knees tucked up to my chest. The fabric felt rough under my hands, grounding me in the harsh reality. Beside me, my sister Avery was a comforting presence, her eyes heavy with concern as they bore into me.
“I just . . . ,” I began, my voice trembling as I tried to form the words. “I don’t know, Avery.”
My eyes dropped to the coffee table in front of us, littered with empty tea cups and tissues. My thoughts were a whirlpool of guilt, fear, and confusion. Declan had saved me. He had taken the bodies away, had swept in like some dark avenger, carrying the weight of my sins.
