I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 109: The Abyss Between Them
Chapter 109 - The Abyss Between Them
Elysia was drowning.
There was no air, no space, no reprieve, only the relentless press of Malvoria's lips against hers, only the heat pooling in the depths of her stomach, only the slow, devastating way Malvoria kissed her, kissed her like she was something to be devoured.
Kissed her like she wanted to burn her into memory, kissed her like she was trying to pull her under, deeper, deeper still, until there was nothing left but this—this unbearable, intoxicating sensation, this fire that spread through her veins like molten metal.
She should stop this.
She should stop this.
She should push Malvoria away, should remind her—remind herself—that this was dangerous, that it had always been dangerous, that there was nothing safe about the way Malvoria touched he.
About the way Malvoria moved against her, about the way Malvoria had taken her lips like she had every right to them, like she was simply claiming what was already hers.
But instead, Elysia only clung tighter.
Because she was weak.
Because she wanted this.
Because Malvoria was ruining her.
And gods, she was letting it happen.
The heat between them was suffocating, the weight of Malvoria's body pressed against hers too much and not enough all at once, the way her fingers curled possessively around Elysia's waist, the way her touch seared through the thin fabric of her dress.
The way her knee parted Elysia's thighs just slightly, not enough to be indecent, but enough to make her gasp, enough to send a sharp pulse of sensation through her entire body.
Elysia felt lightheaded.
Her breath was coming too fast, too shallow, caught somewhere in her throat as Malvoria deepened the kiss again, harder, rougher this time, all-consuming in a way that made Elysia feel like she was standing on the edge of something vast, something terrible, something that she could not—would not—walk away from.
And then—
Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes.
And gods—
Malvoria was looking at her.
Looking at her with eyes that were no longer gray, no longer the stormy steel she had grown accustomed to, no longer the sharp silver that burned with arrogance and control and the kind of wicked amusement that sent shivers down her spine.
No.
They were red.
A deep, smoldering, unnatural crimson, glowing faintly in the dim light of the room, something dark and dangerous, something hungry in a way that Elysia did not—could not—comprehend.
Her stomach twisted.
Something primal inside of her whispered a warning, something deep and instinctual, something that recognized what Malvoria was before her mind could even process it.
This was not normal.
This was not human.
This was—
Malvoria exhaled sharply, her breath hot against Elysia's lips, her pupils blown wide, her entire body tensed, coiled like a predator on the verge of losing control.
Elysia know totaly what it meaned, Malvoria was probably in need of blood like most demon but right now it's really hot.
And then—gods, then—
Malvoria's fingers tightened at her waist, her nails digging in just slightly, just enough to make Elysia feel trapped, claimed, pinned, and before she could say anything—before she could even think—
Malvoria's lips left her mouth.
And trailed lower.
Elysia's breath hitched.
Malvoria was moving slowly, deliberately, her mouth dragging along the line of Elysia's jaw, her lips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, warm and soft, too soft, before she pressed an open-mouthed kiss there, her tongue flicking out ever so slightly, just enough to make Elysia shudder beneath her.
Her heart pounded.
Her fingers dug into Malvoria's back.
"Mal—" Elysia started, but she couldn't finish, not when Malvoria was still moving, still kissing, pressing lower, lower, down the curve of her neck, slow and agonizing and too much, until—
Teeth.
Sharp.
Fangs.
Elysia gasped—tried to pull away—but Malvoria didn't let her.
Didn't even pause.
Didn't hesitate as she tilted Elysia's head back further, baring more of her throat, baring the delicate skin just above her pulse point—
And then—
She bit.
Elysia choked on a sound—something between a gasp and a whimper, something raw and uncontrollable, something that should have been pain, should have been fear, but wasn't.
It wasn't.
Because Malvoria wasn't just biting her—she was drinking from her.
Elysia felt it.
Felt the sharp, piercing sting as fangs broke skin, felt the heat bloom through her entire body as Malvoria's lips sealed over the wound, as she sucked, as she drank, her body trembling slightly against Elysia's, as if she had been holding back this hunger for too long and was finally, finally letting herself indulge.
And Elysia let her.
Because she couldn't move.
Because she couldn't think.
Because she liked it.
She liked the way it felt, the way it made her body hum, the way the heat inside her coiled tighter, the way she could feel Malvoria's tongue against her skin, the way Malvoria growled softly against her neck, like she was savoring it, like she was taking everything she wanted.
Like she was claiming her.
And wasn't that the problem?
Because this wasn't supposed to happen.
This wasn't supposed to feel good.
This was wrong.
This was wrong, wrong, wrong, and yet—
Elysia shivered.
She could feel Malvoria's breath against her neck, ragged, uneven, her lips still lingering, her hands still gripping Elysia's waist like she was afraid she might disappear.
The room was too hot.
Her body was too warm.
Her thoughts were too tangled.
And when Malvoria finally pulled back, her lips red, her fangs still visible, her breathing heavy, her eyes still glowing that unnatural, terrifying shade of crimson—
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Elysia did the only thing she could do.
She stared at her.
Stared at Malvoria's swollen lips, at the faint smear of red left behind, at the expression on her face—one of hunger, of want, of something that looked far too much like possession.
And then, without thinking, without meaning to, without fully understanding what she was even asking,
She whispered—
"What even is all this?"