Chapter 209: To Have Each Other
Emma tugged him closer, her small hands firm against his shoulders, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes shimmered, heavy with unshed tears, but her voice came out soft, almost playful.
"You didn’t give me flowers today..."
Elias pressed his lips together, trying to hold it in, but the smallest laugh escaped him. At this moment, was she bringing up the flowers? His laugh spilled over before he could stop it, rough and unpracticed, and to his horror, a faint spray caught her cheek.
The sensually charged silence was shattered.
"I—" His eyes widened, and for the first time, the unflappable Elias looked flustered. "I apologize," he muttered quickly, fumbling for a cloth, wiping her face with a hand far too gentle for the blunt and indifferent tone he tried to keep. Regret flickered in his gaze, almost panicked. He hadn’t meant to laugh. He hadn’t meant to...
Emma blinked, then... something inside her cracked open. Her heart gave a wild, soaring beat. This man... this stoic, untouchable Elias... Someone who never cared for anyone else, was worrying about spitting on her, of all things. His ears were tinged pink, his composure unraveling in front of her.
Her lips trembled into a smile. How could she not love the man who treasured her that much? He was wounded and bleeding, and yet he cared for this? How could she not give herself to him?
Before he could retreat behind his usual mask, she leaned in. With tears still clinging to her lashes, she pressed her mouth against his.
It wasn’t a practiced kiss, not the kind of stolen passion sung in ballads. It was messy with the remnants of her crying, trembling with all the fear and relief that had broken her chest open... But it was real. All of her, her future, given to him in one desperate press of lips.
Elias froze, his breath caught between disbelief and fire. Her lips were warm, impossibly soft, sweeter than any dream he’d ever dared. His heart thundered, his body forgotten wounds and pain, everything narrowing to this fragile, stolen kiss.
And for the first time, Elias thought that if this was madness, then let it consume him whole.
Her lips pressed against his, trembling but certain, lingering in their innocence. The taste of tears still clung between them, but neither pulled away. Instead, the kiss deepened, not with urgency, but with the fragile wonder of two hearts discovering what they’d always longed for.
When at last she drew back, Elias’ forehead came to rest against hers. His breath was uneven, his voice low, vulnerable in a way Emma had never heard before.
"Are you sure about me, Emma?" His hand cupped the back of her head, almost as if he feared she’d slip away. "You’re a daughter of a noble house, however small. I... I am less than a serf. An orphan with no one to even offer betrothal gifts on my behalf. No name. No kin. Nothing."
Emma’s heart squeezed, overflowing. She cupped his cheeks firmly, forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Did you not think of that before you gave me peonies every day?" she whispered, her lips trembling into a smile. "Before you gifted me a scarf? Weren’t you wooing me? Was I mistaken?"
His lips parted. He hesitated.
"You didn’t think of it before you stole my first kiss?" Emma asked, her voice trembling.
His eyes widened, and he blurted before he could stop himself, "But it was you... The kiss... it was you."
Emma raised her brows, waiting.
Elias turned his face away, ashamed at how raw his voice had come out. He wasn’t one to bare himself, but this might have sounded like he was blaming her. That was not his intention. His heart was thumping against his chest and words failed him.
But he knew. Now was not the time to be silent. "I... didn’t think I could ever have your heart."
Emma’s breath caught. Her own heart surged toward him with painful sweetness. "And this is what you do when you’re certain my heart won’t move? This?" He did all those sweet things for her when he wasn’t even sure she would reciprocate his feelings? How could he love that much?
His eyes locked on hers again, the depth in them unguarded. "I gave my all, because I can’t hold in my feelings for you."
Her throat tightened. "This is the most anyone has ever given me. You..." She looked up to blink down her tears. Her voice softened further. "I may bear a noble name, but I am nearly an orphan myself. We can have each other now."
Something in him broke. His eyes burned red, a sheen of unshed tears threatening. His lips parted on a trembling breath. She had accepted him. "I still... cannot believe you’ve accepted me."
He brushed back his hair, his hand tender, uncertain. Then he kissed her again. Not once, but in small, desperate bursts, as though he was memorizing the shape of her lips, the warmth of her breath.
Her arms wound around his neck, and without realizing, she straddled him on the bed. His hands steadied her waist as their kisses grew shorter, hungrier, a fire sparking beneath the sweetness.
At last, the restraint inside him snapped. With a low growl caught in his throat, Elias flipped her down onto the mattress, caging her beneath him. His lips claimed hers again, no longer hesitant, but burning, hungry for more.
His lips moved against hers with growing hunger, no longer tentative. The soft innocence of their first kiss dissolved into something deeper, something raw and aching. Each time she breathed his name, Elias felt his restraint fray a little more.
Emma’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned low in his throat. The sound vibrated through her as his mouth left hers to wander down the curve of her jaw, then the delicate hollow of her throat. He pressed reverent kisses there, each one sending heat rippling through her body.
"Emma..." His voice was ragged, desperate.
Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, down his back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The thin barrier between them made her boldness sharpen into ache. She wanted to feel him, skin to skin, without anything between.
He seemed to feel it too. His calloused hand slid beneath the folds of her gown, tracing up her thigh with maddening slowness. She gasped softly, arching into him, as his weight pressed her deeper into the mattress. His other hand caressed the side of her waist, lingering at the curve as though he was memorizing her.
Their mouths found each other again, hotter now, a rhythm of hungry, broken kisses. She parted for him willingly, surrendering, her body trembling with a desire she had never known.
When his hand slipped higher, tentative, almost reverent, brushing toward the warmth of her inner thigh...