Chapter 70: The Room Of No Chaos (His POV)
Chaos take me, she is beautiful.
I let my magic flare just enough that my eyes shifted from tan to gold. "Take off the jacket." She let it slide from her shoulders, fabric pooling at her feet, and something deep in my chest tightened. "And now the wig, my love."
She smiled as she unpinned it. When her curls fell free, I stepped into her space without thinking. I wrapped one curl around my finger and drew it back to her scalp, my hand settling at the base of her head. I tugged the base of her hair just enough to make her breath hitch. Gods. She has a body made for me to worship. The only altar I would ever kneel at is her.
I hovered at her neck, close enough to feel her warmth. "You are exquisite." My lips brushed her skin as I spoke. "I love seeing you as me… but I love seeing you as you even more." My grip tightened slightly, not to restrain, but to anchor. "Come here."
I guided her to the mirror, her body warm and soft against mine. The sight of her there, open, unguarded, real, hit me harder than any chaos ever had. "Tonight, I'm going to do exactly what I want to you, my eternity. I will check in with you the entire time. I want to be with you through every part of this." I leaned down until our heads were level, my mouth close to her ear. "I'm going to ruin you and you're going to watch."
She nodded. I needed more than that. I nipped her ear hard enough to draw a gasp from her, then soothed the sting immediately with my tongue. I kissed my way down her neck, across her jaw, and finally her mouth. One soft, deliberate kiss, then I pulled back, unable to stop myself from smiling. "Do you want me as much as I want you?"
She nodded again, uncertainty flickering.
"No," I murmured. "Say it."
"I want you, Malvor."
The words landed like a prayer. Like an offering. I cupped her face in both hands. "You are everything I want. The entire universe was created just so that I could worship you."
I kissed her then, hot, demanding. I needed her to feel what she does to me. When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard, flushed, undone. I brushed my mind against hers. Asking.
She opened the bond without caution or restraint. She let me feel her fully and let herself feel me. Watching her real desire sustain me felt like breathing after drowning. Together, we felt us.
I caught her eyes in the mirror as my fingers traced her ribs, deliberately skipping every place she wanted me most. Not cruelty, control. I wanted her present. I wanted her honest.
"Oh, my beautiful Asha," I murmured, my lips at her neck, my eyes never leaving hers in the reflection. "I want to see you come undone. But I want you to see what I see when you do."
When she whispered my name, when she begged needy, I knew it then, with terrifying clarity: I do not desire her. I am sustained by her. I undressed her the rest of the way slowly, deliberately, as if each layer were a confession she was offering me. She didn't rush me. She never does when she trusts me like this. She stood there bare and unguarded, breath already uneven, eyes dark with need she no longer tried to hide. Chaos, she is magnificent.
I took her hand and guided her back until she felt the chair behind her knees. I didn't push her down. I pulled her forward instead, settling her at the very edge, exactly where she'd have nowhere to retreat.
"Sit," I said quietly. She did. I remained standing between her knees, letting her see the way my restraint cost me. Letting her see what she does to me when she looks at me like that, open, desperate, real.
"Watch yourself, Asha. Watch me. I want you to see what you do to me."
Her gaze flicked to the mirror again, and I felt it, her awareness sharpening, her breath catching as she took herself in. Bare. Flushed. Already coming undone just from being seen. I lowered myself in front of her, slow enough to make it unbearable. I wanted the anticipation to press in on her. "Do you feel that? The way you're shaking? The anticipation?"
She nodded. I lifted my head just enough to meet her eyes. "Say it."
"I feel it," she whispered.
I smiled. Gods, I love her voice when she stops holding it back. "Good. Because I want you right here with me. I want you watching. I want you knowing exactly what's happening to you."
I touched her then, a brush of my fingers to her core. Just enough to make her breath stutter and her back arch. Her hands gripped the edge of the chair, knuckles whitening as she tried to stay quiet. I would not allow that.
"Eyes on me. Don't disappear."
She looked at me again, eyes glassy, lips parted, need written plainly across her face.
"That's it. Let yourself break."
I moved my fingers faster. She gasped, a sound torn from her chest, and I felt it like a victory and a prayer all at once. Her body responded without permission from her mind, and I watched her unravel inch by inch, every breath, every shudder, every honest sound.
"Tell me," I said, steady even as I burned. "Tell me what this does to you."
"I—" Her voice shook. She swallowed. "I love the way you break me."
The words hit me harder than any spell. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, bracing myself against the sheer force of it. Against the devotion wrapped in trust wrapped in want. I looked at her again, utterly undone by her honesty. My fingers still moving in tight circles even as her body responded.
"Good," I said, my voice low and reverent. "Because breaking you like this… watching you come apart for me…" I leaned in, close enough that she could feel my breath. "…is the only way I know how to worship."
She was already trembling by the time I pushed her fully back into the chair. I kept her right at the edge, of the seat, of herself, never letting her settle, never letting her escape the awareness of what was happening to her. My hands were patient. Precise. I gave her just enough to make her ache for more, then pulled back before she could lose herself. Every time. "Look at you, trying so hard to stay together."
She bit her lip, breath stuttering, fingers curling into the wood of the chair like it might anchor her. It wouldn't.
I tipped her chin up with two fingers. "Eyes on me."
She obeyed immediately this time. No hesitation. No nodding instead of speaking. Just need, naked and honest, shining back at me. Good. I leaned in, close enough that she could feel how badly this cost me. How much control I was burning through just to stay slow.
"You want more," I said quietly. Not a question.
Her breath hitched. She nodded, then caught herself and swallowed. "I want more," she said, voice wrecked.
I smiled. Not because I was amused. Because I was undone. "Tell me why."
She shook, eyes glassy now, body softening despite herself. "Because I need you. Because I love the way you make me fall apart."
That did it. I let her go right then, not by giving her everything, but by letting her stop holding herself back. I stayed with her through it, watched every breath, every shudder, every moment where she melted into the truth of her own want. When her orgasm finally broke through her completely, she sagged boneless against the chair, head tipped back, breath coming in soft, helpless little pulls. All that strength reduced to need. She didn't look wrecked. She looked real.
I brushed my thumb along her jaw, gentle now. Grounding. "Stay with me," I said softly.
Her eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and dazed. "I need more," she breathed. No shame. No fear. Just truth.
I bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, reverent as a vow. "I know."
I scooped her up then, her body yielding easily against mine, trusting me completely. As I carried her toward the bed, she tucked her face into my neck, still warm, still open, still mine. And chaos help me, I had never needed anything the way I needed her to keep wanting me like that. I set her gently on the bed. She looked up at me from the bed, lashes heavy, mouth curved in something wicked and soft all at once. Still trembling. Still open. Still very much herself.
Then she smiled. "It's your birthday," she murmured, voice lazy with heat. "You should get what you want too."
Chaos help me. I laughed under my breath, because of course she would say that. Of course she would try to turn this back on me, even while she was barely holding herself together.
"Mouthing off already?" I asked, grinning down at her. "Bold choice."
Her eyes sparked with mischief. She knew exactly what she was doing, offering herself while pretending she wasn't. I leaned in, close enough that she could feel how badly I wanted her, how carefully I was choosing not to take. Grinding my hips into her. "But everything is about you," I said quietly. No teasing now. Just truth."You are the change. You are what I need. You are what makes any of this worth it."
Her breath caught. "I've had everything. Every indulgence. Every excess. None of it ever mattered." My thumb traced her jaw, reverent. "You are what makes me want. You are what makes it new." I smiled then. "Still," I added, letting the edge return, "I'll let it slide."
Her brows lifted slightly.
"This time."
She laughed, breathy and wrecked, leaning into my touch, she trusted me completely. Like she knew exactly what came next.
"But don't mistake me," I murmured against her hair. "I will get exactly what I want."
She melted into me, boneless and warm, her voice a quiet confession against my throat. "I know."
I slowed completely. Not because I needed to. Because I wanted to savor her like this. She looked up at me, hair fanned across the pillows, skin still flushed, eyes heavy with need and trust. Just Asha. I braced myself over her without giving her my weight, my hands framing her head as I studied her face. The way her lips parted when she breathed. The way her eyes tracked me like I was the only thing in existence.
"You're beautiful," I said quietly. Not as praise. As fact.
Her fingers curled into the fabric at my shoulders, grounding herself against me. "You always say that."
"Because it's always true and because I never want you to forget it."
I kissed her then, slow, unhurried, nothing like before. This wasn't about hunger now. This was about care. About keeping her right here with me, letting her feel how cherished she was even as the heat still thrummed between us. I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
"Stay with me," I murmured again. I loved the way she chose to stay. She nodded, eyes closing briefly, and when she opened them again, they were softer. I trailed my kisses down her jaw, her throat, lingering wherever her breath changed. Every reaction mattered. Every sound was something I held like a gift.
"This," I said quietly, my voice rough with devotion, "is what I want."
Her hands tightened on me. "Me," she whispered.
I smiled against her skin, the chaos in me settling into something warm and sure. "Yes. Me. With you."
I lost the last of my restraint in a single desperate movement, and we both broke on the same breath. Chaos. The bond lit like a struck wire between us, her fullness, her surrender, the way she opened without fear, and it slammed straight into my chest. Her.
Gods, it was her. Every pulse of her pleasure echoed through me, sharp and bright, and I felt the exact moment she stopped holding back. The exact moment she chose to fall. I caught her. Always. When she shattered, it wasn't fragile. It wasn't quiet. The kind of release that only comes when someone finally stops bracing for the world. I pressed my mouth into her hair, holding her close, voice rough with reverence. "That's my girl. So good. I've got you."
Her lashes were wet when she looked up at me, and something in my chest went dangerously soft.
"I didn't know," she whispered.
I kissed her forehead gently. "Didn't know what, my love?"
"That I could want like this. That I could need this."
Ah. There it was. I smiled against her skin, softer than I'd ever let the world see.
"Now you do," I said quietly and because I am, at my core, still myself, "Happy birthday to me." She stayed exactly where I wanted her warm and boneless against me, breath uneven, body still trembling in the quiet aftermath. I wrapped my arms around her tighter, my hand sliding slowly along the back of her thigh where she'd shaken hardest. "You're shaking."
"I'm not cold."
"I know." Still, I pulled the blanket over her, because taking care of her like this… gods, I could get addicted to it. She melted further into me with a soft sound she clearly hadn't meant to make. I smiled into her hair. "That sound… you have no idea what it does to me."
She didn't answer, didn't need to. I could feel her through the bond, the way she clung without realizing she was doing it, the way she breathed me in like she was trying to memorize me. Her lips brushed my throat, soft, barely there. I tipped her face up gently, thumb sweeping beneath her eye. "You okay?"
She nodded.
"You're safe," I told her. I meant it with everything I was. Something in her cracked open at that, and her voice went small in a way that made my chest ache.
"I know… I just didn't know I needed this. Not like that. Not from someone who actually loved me."
Loved her. If she only knew. I cupped her cheek, holding her gaze steady. "You didn't just give me your body tonight. You gave me your trust. The part of you you usually hide behind sarcasm and steel."
I kissed her slowly, not hungry. Possessive. "You can fall apart with me," I murmured against her lips. "I'll hold you together."
She believed me. I felt the exact moment it settled into her bones. I rolled us gently onto our sides, drawing her back against my chest, my hand tracing slow circles across her stomach until the last of her trembling eased.
"That was…" Her voice was frayed, soft. "More than I thought it would be."
A quiet smile pulled at my mouth. "It was never about sex."
She exhaled slowly. "It was everything but sex."
"Exactly."
I tucked my face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in like I'd been starved for centuries. "You were magnificent. I don't just want your body, Asha. I want every version of you. Every past. Every wound. Every breath."
Her tears this time felt different through the bond. Healing. "The real fantasy isn't the control," I added softly. My hand slid up, settling over her heart. "It's you… wanting me back."
Her smile was sleepy and warm when it came. "I do."
I pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder, breathing her in like something hard-won and precious. We lay there tangled together, the room quiet except for our shared breathing. Then, half-dreaming, she murmured: "You did ruin me a little, you know."
I smiled into her hair. "Good. Then we're even." and because I will always be me, "Next year, I want cake… and you saying my name like that again."