Chapter 35
4
She didn’t know how she’d gotten there.
Daphne only realized she’d been laid down when the softness beneath her back registered — a mattress. The sheets were far too fine to belong to the prayer dorms. Cushions that could never exist in the novices’ quarters. This was a bed meant for someone who outranked even the bishops.
It had to be the cardinal’s.
“Hhhk—ah… haah!”
The realization hit just as her breath caught. She gasped, air rasping into her lungs like she’d been drowning. Her vision flickered at the edges.
‘It feels like I’m being devoured.’
And in truth, she was. From the moment his mouth touched hers, the restraint that had always held back his body disappeared and was replaced by something far more ravenous. His kiss was relentless, leaving no room for her to breathe. He took everything — her breath, her balance, her sense of self.
Their tongues tangled, and the sound that slipped from her throat wasn’t one she’d meant to make. Was kissing always this suffocating? She couldn’t hold onto a single breath before it was pulled from her again.
And this was her first kiss.
Yet somehow, Theodore had her trembling every time his tongue dipped below her own, stealing the pooled wetness beneath her frenulum and tracing it along the curve of her gum line. It didn’t make sense. He’s new to this too, wasn’t he?
‘Then why did it feel like he’d done this a hundred times?’
Each time he dragged the flat of his tongue along the roof of her mouth, something coiled tight in her belly. Her hips flinched. The hand cradling the back of her neck clung like a leash, unyielding. The arm wrapped around her waist had slid lower, gripping at her soft rear like he meant to bruise it. His hips pressed harder, grinding down, desperate and impatient. She could feel his length, hot and thick, dragging along her pelvis like he wanted nothing more than to force himself inside.
“W-wait—!”
She couldn’t breathe. Daphne shoved at his broad shoulders, striking him with both palms until he pulled back. She dragged in air like she’d just broken the surface of deep water, coughing as her lungs scrambled for oxygen.
Theodore’s lips — smeared with their mingled saliva — glistened as he looked down at her with gleaming, darkened eyes.
“Why?”
“Because—!”
They couldn’t just keep kissing. She needed to tell him to undress, at the very least.
“There’s no use in saying no now.”
Rip!
The sound was hideous. Theodore’s hand, the one that had been gripping her rear, moved to her back and tore straight down the buttons of her novice’s robe.
“Kyaa!”
Daphne shrieked, horrified, as the only robe she owned fell apart like torn parchment in a storm.
“That’s my only one…!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll see that you’re given another. You need only focus on enjoying this. The clothes, your body — let me handle the rest.”
So calm. So shameless. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he cupped one of her brxxsts with a palm so large it made her look small — flesh spilling up between his knuckles, trembling with the pressure.
“Ahh…!”
Her nxxple, taut and sharp from the cold air and tension, disappeared into the heat of his mouth.
The difference was dizzying. It wasn’t like earlier when he’d teased her through layers of cloth. No, now, his tongue was wet, hot, and deliberate. And the moment it circled her arxxla, her back went rigid like a bowstring pulled too tight.
“Haa…”
Theodore licked slowly, dragging his tongue in a deliberate spiral before catching the stiffened bud between his teeth — biting down, gently, then firmer. Cream-colored skin, flushed and soft and yielding.
How long had he ached to feel this? How many nights had he dreamed of pressing his mouth to this warm, pillowy flesh?
He’d seen it before — how the fabric of his clerical robes betrayed him. Each time his tongue had wandered over her sweet folds, each time his lips had closed around her, the evidence of his arousal stood proud beneath the modest layers. She had no idea how often he’d fought the urge to tear this calm, ceremonial attire apart with his bare hands.
And yet, at other times, he wanted to wrap her up from head to toe and hide her entirely. He’d noticed the way the men looked at her since she’d begun serving in the convent. Their eyes weren’t holy, not in the slightest.
This generous chest of hers — she must’ve thought it concealed well enough beneath the ample folds of her habit. But really, all it did was draw the eye more and accentuate what was already too tempting.
‘Of course they covet her.’
With her delicate features and those spellbinding turquoise eyes, Daphne was the kind of beauty one didn’t come across often. There was something uncanny about her. Untouchable, almost. And yet she’d spent her girlhood locked away in a priory, learning to move and speak like a lamb of God. How could she not look delicious now?
Even after rising to the rank of Cardinal, he’d found it impossible to look away from her. The weaker ones, those prone to temptation, must’ve been drawn to her like moths to a flame. He didn’t even blame them.
The only reason he hadn’t gouged out their wandering eyes was because he didn’t want to make things harder for her.
Still, his golden eyes, framed by long silver lashes, flickered with something dangerous — beastly and possessive.
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