I'd expected Elara's voice, a familiar warmth, but there was only a hollow echo. I saw her not facing me, but turned away, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts.
I saw her in my mind's eye: the cascade of her hair, a river of spun gold, flowing down her back, nearly reaching the delicate curve of her waist. It shimmered, catching the imagined light, each strand a testament to its silken texture. Her posture, even in contemplation, possessed a quiet grace. The fabric of her dress, a shade of deep crimson, clung to her form, outlining the subtle sway of her hips and the gentle slope of her shoulders. It was cut just short enough to reveal the elegant line of her legs, a hint of vulnerability that always made my breath catch.
Even from this imagined distance, I could almost smell her. It wasn't a sharp, overpowering fragrance, but a subtle, intoxicating blend of warm vanilla and something faintly floral, like the first blossoms of spring. It was a scent that clung to her, a personal aura that always stirred a sense of deep familiarity and yearning.
I remembered the countless times I'd observed her from afar, captivated by the quiet intensity of her solitude. There was an almost ethereal quality to her when she was lost in thought, a beauty that transcended the physical. It wasn't just her appearance, but the sense of mystery, the unspoken depths that lay beneath the surface, that held me spellbound. Each time, I found myself wanting to bridge the distance, to unravel the enigma that was Elara, to know the thoughts that danced behind her golden veil."
Elara spun around, her deep blue eyes, pools of liquid sapphire, locking onto mine. The light caught the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the subtle swell of her lips, a face crafted with an almost ethereal perfection. Her eyes, wide with a startled shock, held a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. My own gaze, however, was drawn elsewhere.
The thin fabric of her dress did little to conceal the prominent peaks of her nipples, already hardened into tight buds. A low, involuntary growl rumbled in my throat.
"Elara! I've been calling you for quite some time .Thinking of me,I guess?" I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.
A blush, like a delicate watercolor wash, stained her cheeks. She frowned, her brow furrowing slightly, and her lips moved, forming words I couldn't quite register. My focus was utterly consumed by the tantalizing sight of her hardened nipples, the image burning into my mind. I imagined the feel of them, taut and sensitive, between my fingertips, the taste of her soft, pink lips, ripe and inviting.
"Mom wants to talk to you. We have some visitors,"
I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper.
Before she could speak, I turned and strode away, the image of her body seared into my memory. She was always a temptation, a constant, delicious torment.
Later, seeking solitude in the garden, I stumbled upon a scene that ignited a white-hot rage within me. Elara stood with Jared Medhurst, a man I'd known for years, a man I knew was utterly wrong for her. He was too smooth, too calculating, his charm a thin veneer over something dark and predatory.
Without a word, I closed the distance between us, my hand snaking around Elara's waist, pulling her possessively against my side. A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, a sound so low and intimate that only I could have heard it. Her eyes, wide and questioning, met mine, her lips parted slightly, an unconscious invitation. I ached to close the distance, to capture those soft lips with my own.
"Elara, you shouldn't be out here alone, so close to the edge of the property, you know that?" I said, my voice low and possessive.
She nodded, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson. "I… I know."
Jared's voice, laced with a thinly veiled hostility, cut through the tension. "I'm not just an outsider."
I could feel the heat of his gaze on my hand, still firmly planted on Elara's waist.
"Elara and I are engaged," he declared, his voice ringing with a smug satisfaction.
The words hit me like a physical blow, a sudden, crushing weight in my chest. Before I could react, Jared pulled Elara away from me, his hand cupping her chin, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was possessive, a blatant display of ownership, and the sight of it sent a wave of raw, animalistic fury through me.