Islinda clenched her fists, her nails digging into Aldric's scalp as she struggled to maintain control. It was as though the intensity of their connection threatened to consume them both in flames. Alive.
Aldric leaned his head back, his blue eyes slipping shut. He whispered under his breath, "You will be the death of me."
"Well, that is what you wanted. Congratulations, you picked your poison." She said with gritted teeth, her breath shaky and heavy.
How could she be the death of someone when she was already teetering on the edge of oblivion, consumed by desire?
Islinda knew she shouldn't have joined him in the tub, but her stubbornness had always been her downfall. Even now, she was determined to see this through without surrendering to the overwhelming temptation. Aldric undoubtedly wanted her to fail, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.
