Chapter 13

Malric’s Pov

Some people may call it madness.

Some people may call it obsession.

I don’t care what they call it.

I sat there in the shadows, watching her sleep. Her chestnut-brown hair spilled across her face like a curtain, soft waves moving slightly with each breath. Her breathing was calm, rhythmic, and it drew me in like a spell I couldn’t break.

She looked fragile like this. Untouchable. But gods, she wasn’t untouchable. Not to me.

The thin nightdress she wore did little to hide her curves, and the sight alone tested every ounce of restraint I possessed.

My body burned for her, every part of me screaming to claim what I’d been denying myself for far too long. I’d kept my distance, told myself I wouldn’t cross the line… because I knew that once I did, there would be no going back.

And yet, here I was.

I rose from the chair, moving closer to the bed until I stood over her. I brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger for a moment too long. That single touch was enough.

Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes opened slowly and then wide with surprise.

“Malric?” Her voice was groggy but sharp enough to cut through me. Then she froze, tugging at her wrists instinctively — only to realize they were bound to the carved headboard.

Her brows drew together. “What… what are you doing here? And why am I restrained”

I said nothing.

“I asked you a question, Malric,” she pressed, her voice firmer now.

“You left me,” I said finally, my tone cold, distant.

She blinked. “Because my job was done.”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice until it was barely more than a growl. “It wasn’t.”

Her breath hitched, and I caught the faintest hint of heat in her gaze, though she tried to mask it with defiance. “And what exactly do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice dipping into something… softer. Seductive.

I reached out, letting the back of my knuckles trace the line of her cheek down to the curve of her neck. My claw extended slightly, grazing her skin without breaking it, and I whispered against her ear.

“I want you.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, silence filled the space between us. Then she managed, “What do you mean… you want me?”

“I want,” I breathed, leaning closer, “to taste you.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her chest rising and falling faster now. “You need to go,” she said quietly. “Reyna’s here… if she walks in—”

“Is that why you want me to leave?” I tilted her chin upward with two fingers, forcing her eyes on mine. “Or is it because you don’t want this? Because if you don’t…” I paused, holding her gaze, “…you only have to tell me to stop.”

She gave a breathless, bitter laugh. “Such a gentleman,” she whispered, “for someone who has me chained up.”

I smirked faintly. “You could’ve broken free if you really wanted to.”

She didn’t deny it.

My fingertips brushed her cheeks, soft and warm under my touch, before sliding down to her neck, where her pulse fluttered rapidly.

I could feel her tension, her body rigid with anticipation, yet yielding to my every movement. My fingers continued their descent, tracing the curve of her collarbone, then dipping lower to her breasts. Her nipples were already tight buds, and I circled them gently, my touch feather-light, eliciting a loud moan that escaped her lips. Her head tilted back, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the sensation.

“If you want me to stop, you should tell me to stop,” I murmured, my words hanging heavy in the air like a challenge.

My fingers moved lower, gliding over the smooth plane of her stomach, her muscles quivering under my touch.

I could feel her anticipation building, her body arching subtly against the chains, desperate for more. My hand drifted downward, my fingers brushing the soft curls between her legs, and her breath hitched.

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine for a fleeting moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushing with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

Without warning, I lowered my mouth, my lips brushing her inner thigh before I reached her folds.

I sucked softly at first, my tongue teasing her clit, drawing out a steady stream of moans that grew louder with each passing moment.

Her body arched against the chains, her wrists straining as she pulled against the restraints, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. “Please don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “don’t stop, please continue.”

And then—

“Delilah?” Reyna’s voice came muffled through the door. “Are you okay in there?”

Delilah stiffened, her eyes flying open, panic flashing across her face.

I didn’t move.

“I…” Delilah cleared her throat. “I’m fine! Just… meditating.”

There was a pause, then Reyna said, “Alright… I thought I heard something. Goodnight!”

Delilah stayed frozen until we heard her footsteps fade away.

And then, obeying her last request…Don’t stop.

My mouth working relentlessly, my tongue circling her clit, my lips sucking gently as I delved deeper, tasting her sweetness.

Her flavor was like flowers, delicate yet intoxicating, and I savored it, my hunger for her growing with every moment.

Her moans grew wilder, her body twisting against the chains, her cries filling the room.

“Malric,” she pleaded, her voice breaking, “please, I’m so close.”

I didn’t respond, my focus entirely on her, my mouth moving faster, my tongue pressing harder, my lips sucking with more urgency.

Her body tensed, her muscles tightening as she teetered on the edge of release. And then, with a scream that shattered the silence of the room, she came, her body convulsing, her cries echoing off the walls.

Her release was fierce, her juices flooding my mouth as I drank her in, her taste lingering on my tongue.

After what felt like a long hour of staring at each other…I just had the urge to say it.

“I love the taste of you.”

She didn't say anything.

“Delilah,” I called out.

“Yes?”

“You’re coming with me.”