24. Claire

24

CLAIRE

T he warmth of the fire dances across Thrag's face, casting his features in a soft, flickering glow. The space between us is charged with an intensity that makes my heart flutter wildly in my chest. I lean in again, my gaze dropping to his lips. The kiss is my bold admission of the feelings that have been blooming within me.

His response is immediate and fierce. His hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his tongue slips into my mouth, exploring with a hunger that leaves me breathless. My hands find their way to his face, my fingers tracing the rough contours of his scars.

Thrag pulls away slightly, his breath ragged. "Claire," he murmurs.

"I know," I whisper back. "I can't help it. I... I care about you, Thrag. More than I should."

His eyes search mine, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he schools them back into his usual stoic mask. "You shouldn't," he says, but his grip on me doesn't lessen. "I'm not like you, Claire. I've done things?—"

"Things you had to do to survive," I interrupt, my tone firm. "We all have. But that's not who you are now. You've protected us, saved us. You've saved me."

He looks away, his jaw clenching as if he's wrestling with some internal demon. I reach up, gently turning his face back toward mine. "Thrag, look at me," I insist.

Reluctantly, his gaze meets mine once more. There's a world of pain and confusion in his eyes, but also a glimmer of something tender and hopeful.

"You can't fight this," I say softly. "Whatever this is between us... it's real. And it's worth holding onto, even in a world as dark as ours."

His lips claim mine again with an urgency that sends a thrill coursing through my veins. His kiss is intense, a primal declaration that sets my heart ablaze.

"Thrag," I gasp as his hands roam over my body, igniting a trail of heat wherever they wander.

"Can't... hold back... anymore," he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. His eyes are ablaze with desire, a raw vulnerability that mirrors my own.

In one swift motion, he lifts me off the ground, pinning me against the wood wall of my humble home. His strength is exhilarating. My body responds with a hunger I've never known.

His fingers soon deftly undo the fastenings of my clothes, giving way to reveal the soft, untouched skin beneath. The chill of the room does nothing to cool the fire within me.

His lips leave a scorching path from my mouth down the column of my neck, each kiss sending shivers cascading down my spine. His hands cup my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples into hard peaks. I arch into his touch, a silent plea for more.

He obliges, his mouth replacing his hands, lavishing attention on my sensitive flesh until I'm a writhing mess of desire. His hands travel lower, exploring the curve of my waist, the flare of my hips, before delving between my legs.

The first touch of his fingers against my most intimate place is electric. I gasp, my body tensing at the intensity of the sensation. He starts gently, his fingers circling and teasing, coaxing wetness from my core.

He increases the pressure, sliding one thick finger inside me. My inner walls clench around him, the feeling of fullness both surprising and exquisite.

"You're so tight, so perfect," Thrag murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with lust.

He adds another finger, stretching me, preparing me for what's to come. His movements are sure and confident, each stroke of his fingers stoking the fire within me to new heights. I can feel the tension building, a coil wound too tight, ready to snap.

And then, it does. My orgasm crashes over me like a wave, my body convulsing with the force of it. I cry out, my nails digging into his broad shoulders as he continues to work me through the aftershocks.

Before I even catch my breath, he scoops me up into his arms, carrying me to the modest bed. He lays me down gently, his eyes raking over my naked form with an intensity that sets my skin alight.

He sheds his own clothes quickly, revealing the muscular body I've only glimpsed beneath his armor. His member is impressive, thick and pulsing with need. My heart races in anticipation, a thrill of apprehension mingling with my desire.

He joins me on the bed, his body covering mine. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the hard planes of his muscles pressing against me. He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. There's a brief sting of pain, but it's quickly replaced by a sense of completion, of rightness.

We move together, our bodies finding a perfect rhythm. Each thrust brings us closer, not just physically, but emotionally, too. I can feel my soul reaching out to his. There's a connection between us, an unspoken understanding that this moment is ours alone.

"Thrag," I whisper, my voice filled with wonder and awe.

His response is a low growl of pleasure, his pace increasing, his movements becoming more frenzied. I meet him thrust for thrust, my body hurtling toward another peak.

And then, with a final, powerful surge, he finds his release, his orgasm triggering my own. I cling to him, our bodies shuddering in unison as we ride out the storm together.

Afterward, we lie tangled together, the fire casting soft shadows on the walls. The world outside, with its looming threats and uncertainties, seems like a universe away. I rest my head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"This is crazy," I whisper, my body still humming from our lovemaking.

His arm tightens around me as if he never wants to let go. "Maybe," he rumbles softly.

The simplicity of his response brings a lightness to my heart. In this moment, nothing else matters. The differences between us seem insignificant. All that exists is the two of us caught in the cocoon of our shared warmth.