​Struggling for breath, I inhaled sharply as Emrys intensified the kiss, his lips crushing against mine with a desperate hunger. He nipped my lower lip, a sharp spark of pain that vanished as he allowed his tongue to slide deep into the heat of my mouth.

​I moved against him, trying to keep pace with his guidance, my heart hammering against my ribs. All at once, I caught the sound of his soft, dark chuckle interwoven with the slick sounds of our mouths meeting. Flushed with embarrassment, I watched as he pulled back just an inch, his face lingering so close I could feel his heat, his lips curled into a teasing smirk.

​“Is this the first time you’ve been kissed properly, Callista?” he asked with a low, sardonic velvet in his voice, his fingers gently but firmly gripping my chin.

​A deep, scorching blush spread across my cheeks as I turned my gaze away, murmuring, “Why does it even matter?"

​His piercing eyes remained fixed on me for a heartbeat before he leaned in once more, reclaiming my mouth with a fiercer, more unrestrained intensity. My hands sought his hard chest, instinctively trying to push for air, but he simply pulled me closer, his strong arms caging my back. I felt his hands begin a slow, possessive climb toward my breasts. A sharp moan escaped me as a sensation—foreign and electric—rippled through me when he pinched my nipples playfully through the fabric.

​He carefully pulled my dress down, spilling my breasts into the cool air. Trailing a path of fire from my lips to my neck, he finally reached one peak and took it into his mouth, sucking hungrily while his hand kneaded the other.

​I stared down at him from my place on the bed, my head falling back as I moaned his name in a state of pure ecstasy. He closed his eyes, nibbling at the sensitive flesh, and I couldn't help but tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper against me as my mind went blank. Nothing mattered—not the noise, not the scandal—I only wanted to drown in him.

​He shifted his attention to the other breast, sucking aggressively, his teeth grazing the turgid tip. I could feel my core throbbing, the heat between my legs turning slick and heavy. He finally pulled away, his eyes dark with admiration and lust as he surveyed the wet, swollen evidence of his ravishing mouth. My heart was pounding, my soul screaming for him to take me, to fill me with his seed and give me the euphoria I craved.

​The sunlight hit my cheeks, shattering the dream.

​I woke with a gasp, the phantom sensation of his lips still burning on my skin. My personal maid, Ellara, was tying the curtains to the side.

​“My Lady, the King calls for you to join him and your brother for a meal,” Ellara said, her voice tinged with concern.

​“Brother? When did Emrys return from the South?” I asked, my voice still husky from sleep.

​“Only this morning, My Lady. News arrived that the neighboring nation of Calligo wishes to enter an alliance with the Asch Kingdom,” she replied.

​I immediately had Ellara assist me in dressing, my hands trembling. I had to see him. I greeted my father and my brother, Emrys, before taking my seat across from him. I met his gaze, my skin prickling with the memory of the dream, as my father delivered a devastating blow.

​“Emrys, the Calligo alliance is non-negotiable,” the King stated, his voice full of iron authority. “The Skotos hordes grow stronger daily. Princess Lydia’s Ice Mages are our only bulwark.”

​My heart sank. My brother was being bartered away to another woman. My blood boiled at the thought of a foreign princess touching what was mine, though I masked the rage with a nonchalant smile.

​“I understand, Father,” Emrys replied, his expression an unreadable mask of duty.

​“The betrothal contracts will be finalized within the fortnight,” added Varis, the King’s Councilor.

​The rest of the meal passed in a deafening silence. When I finally retreated to my room, the helplessness felt like a physical weight. I lay on my bed, the image of Emrys behind my eyelids. I was burning. I imagined his skin against mine, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his body.

​I closed my eyes and reached for my breasts, mimicking the rough caress from my dream. On my other hand, my fingers sought the heat between my thighs, tracing the opening slowly. I played with my nipples, my breath hitching as I remembered the way he had sucked them. My core was throbbing, begging for him.

​I slid my middle finger inside, finding myself drenched in my own love juices. I pushed deeper, my finger reaching the depths of my hole as I began a frantic, wet rhythm.

​"Emrys..." I moaned his name into the quiet room, my body arching as I groped myself. The pleasure intensified until I shattered into a climax, gasping for air as the ecstasy rippled through my nerves.

​When I finally opened my eyes, my heart stopped. The door, which I was certain I had closed, was standing slightly ajar. Panic flared in my chest. I could only pray that whoever had been watching hadn't heard the name I had been screaming.

I woke with a start, my body heavy and aching as if I had been running for hours. My nightgown was twisted, my hair a wild tangle across my pillow. As I reached up to touch my lip, I found it swollen and tender, though the memory of how it happened felt like a fading dream. Then, I saw it: the door was slightly ajar.

​Turning away from the door, my breath hitched. In the pale moonlight streaming through the window, I saw him. Emrys was sitting there, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

​"What are you doing here, Brother?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of shock and indignation.

​He didn't answer. Instead, he moved with a predator’s grace, his hand sliding beneath the fabric of my gown, tracing the curve of my waist before pulling me sharply against him. A gasp escaped me.

​"Didn't you want this, Callista?" he murmured, his voice a dark caress near my ear. "You seemed to find it quite enjoyable in your sleep."

​"Stop this, Emrys!" I hissed, though my heart was racing for reasons I couldn't admit. "If Father finds out—and the Princess... you are to be wed to—"

​He cut me off with a kiss that was less a plea and more a reclamation. It was fierce and possessive, silencing my protests. When he finally pulled back just an inch, his breath was hot against my skin. "Do not speak of anyone else now," he commanded.

​

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

​He moved over me, his weight both a burden and a comfort, caging me within the strength of his arms. As the silk of my gown was swept aside, I felt a wave of vulnerability and instinctively tried to shield myself. But Emrys was relentless. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, his gaze burning into mine as his other hand claimed me, tracing the lines of my body with a feverish desperation.

​The world outside—the alliance, the war, the impending wedding—vanished. There was only the heat of his mouth against my neck and the sharp, electrifying pull of a desire that had been buried far too long. Every touch was an awakening, a painful reminder of why I had been dreaming of him.

​I found myself calling his name, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the tension between us reached a breaking point. I wanted to lose myself in him, to forget the blood we shared and the laws we were breaking. The ache in my chest was matched only by the hunger in his eyes as he looked down at me, seeing the ruin he was making of my resolve.

​

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

​The air in the room grew thin as the encounter turned more frantic. The restraint he usually wore like armor had completely shattered. I clung to him, my nails digging into the muscles of his back as the sheer intensity of the moment pushed me toward a precipice. I was no longer thinking of consequences; I was drowning in the sensation of being his, and only his, even if just for this stolen hour.

​"Please," I whispered, the word a ragged plea against his shoulder. I wanted every part of this forbidden fire, wanted the mark of him to stay with me long after the sun rose.

​As the moonlight shifted across the floor, the fever reached its peak. Emrys’ breath hitched, his movements becoming heavy and desperate until, with a final, shuddering release, the tension broke. He collapsed against me, his forehead resting against mine, both of us gasping for air in the sudden, ringing silence of the room.

​The reality of what we had done settled over us like ash. He pulled away slowly, leaving me cold in the dampness of the night, the evidence of our betrayal staining the sheets between us.

I watched Emrys in the burgeoning light of dawn as he pulled his clothes back on. The sun began to bleed through the windows, illuminating the room and signaling the start of another day of deception.

My breasts were still bare, my nightgown reduced to ruins by the man now dressing with such cold indifference. Emrys. My brother. I looked at him with eyes that betrayed me—aching with a volatile cocktail of devoted love and insatiable lust.

"Brother," I whispered, my voice thick with hope. "Does this mean you love me? Not as your sister... but as a woman?"

He spared me a fleeting glance, his expression unreadable as he swept his messy dark hair back from his face.

"You must be dreaming again, Callista," he replied, his voice like ice. "I only fucked you because I knew you were starving for it.

Weren't you crying out my name while you rammed your own fingers into your cunt? I simply fulfilled a wish. As your brother, it is my duty to make your desires a reality."

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a brief, mocking smack of a kiss before turning away. I watched his retreating figure until the door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the silence of my room.

I changed into a fresh gown and began to straighten the sheets. It was then I saw it—a deep red stain on the white fabric. It was the physical evidence of our "passionate love," or at least, the version of it I let myself believe in. I felt hollowed out by his words, yet beneath the hurt, a dark resolve hardened. I didn't care what he called it; I only knew I never wanted this to stop.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on my limbs. I summoned Ellara and instructed her to prepare my bath. As I shed my clothes, the morning chill bit at my skin, making me shiver. I stepped into the steaming tub, letting the water submerge me, hoping to soothe the nerves that still hummed from the way Emrys had claimed me.

Ellara washed my hair with delicate, practiced motions. "My Lady," she murmured, "would you like me to assist in washing your body?"

"No," I dismissed her nonchalantly, staring at the steam rising from the surface. "I wish to be alone in the water."

Once the door closed, I shut my eyes. My mind immediately betrayed me, conjuring the image of Emrys’s strong hands prying my legs apart. I could still feel the phantom sensation of him sucking my nipples like a starving beast, his tongue marking every inch of my skin. A low moan vibrated in my throat.

Submerged in the warmth, I slid my middle finger down to my entrance, caressing the swollen folds. With my other hand, I began to pinch and roll my nipples, mimicking his rough touch.

I fantasized about him standing behind me in the tub, his well-toned, naked body pressing against my back, his thick, rigid cock prodding against my backside. In my mind, I reached back to stroke him, my hand slick with water, while he leaned over to catch my nipple in his mouth. I imagined him stretching me open with two fingers, sliding them in and out with punishing speed, while he tilted my head back to claim my mouth in a torrid, tongue-heavy kiss.

The fantasy shifted; I imagined him lifting me out of the water, my legs locked firmly around his waist as his hands supported my weight against the cold stone wall. He would drive his length into me with a single, brutal thrust. My pussy would swallow him whole, clutching at his thickness with every rhythmic pump.

"Emrys..." I whimpered into the empty room.

I imagined him turning me around, forcing me to lean against the wall so he could take me from behind. I saw him ramming into me, his cock hitting that deep, sensitive spot over and over. The heat in my core reached a breaking point. My fingers moved frantically, mimicking the friction of his body. Just as the climax shattered through me, I felt a shameful, ecstatic release, my muscles pulsing so violently that I lost control, my body trembling as I came and find relief in the warm bathwater.

I gasped for air, my limbs feeling like jelly, weighted down by a pleasure so intense it was almost painful.

I skipped breakfast; I was simply too drained to face the world. I spent the day cocooned in my bed, breathing in the lingering scent of him on the pillows—a musky, masculine fragrance I could never get enough of.

Later, I ordered Ellara to bring tea and sweets to my room. As she set the tray, she dropped a piece of news that chilled my blood.

"My Lady, I was told to inform you that the delegates from Calligo arrive in one week. Princess Lydia and her brother, Prince Leon, will be received by the King. Your father requests that you be on your best behavior."

My heart pounded with a sickening mix of anxiety and rage. The Princess. Emrys’s betrothed.

"Thank you, Ellara. You are dismissed," I said, my voice tight.

I wouldn't let that Calligo bitch ruin my mood. Not yet. I finished my tea and drifted back into a heavy, dreamless sleep. When I finally woke, the sun had set. Assisted by my maids, I dressed for the evening. I caught Ellara’s gaze in the mirror—she definitely saw the dark bruises and love bites peppering my neck and chest, but she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut.

I walked out into the moonlit garden, the cool night breeze kissing my skin. Looking up at the stars, I remembered the heat of the morning. My face flushed. The fear of the Princess was there, but the hunger was louder. I wanted him again. I wanted to feel him inside me, breaking me, until there was nothing left of Callista but what he made of her.