Chapter Fifty Nine
Faelyn's eyelids feel sore. She is too exhausted to open them, and only vaguely is she aware of the figure that touches her. The cool fingers that slowly trail every part of her skin.
Instinctively, she buries her face into the firm, cool chest and hugs the owner closer.
She has missed this touch. Only in dreams like this does it feel real.
A small moan ripples from Faelyn's when she feels a soft kiss pressed to her throat.
Amendiel. . .
The name burns on the back of Faelyn's tongue.
The lips kissing her neck and collarbone are persistent. Faelyn weakly resigns herself to it; her breathing becomes erratic, and her body slick with sweat as she allows herself to be freely touched.
Juta groans low in his throat as he runs his hand through the smooth skin, his hand roams Faelyn's soft mound through the thin fabric of her cloth. He grazes his hand down Faelyn's abdomen, and even lower.
