Their kiss, which had begun soft and tentative, slowly changed.
Desmond lifted his hand and took hold of Evelyne's jaw with a motion that was firm yet restrained. His large fingers held her face gently—yet with enough quiet strength to guide her back toward his lips.
The kiss deepened.
Warmer.
As though something that had long been sealed inside Desmond had finally begun to search for a way out.
Evelyne exhaled softly between their closeness.
[Her eyes—heavy, languid—rested on him.]
The blanket that had wrapped her body slowly slipped aside as her hand moved. Not with haste, but with calm deliberation… almost as though the decision had been made long before this moment ever arrived.
Her body leaned closer.
Slowly.
Her movements were gentle but certain until she finally settled above him, close enough that their breaths began to mingle.
The kiss had not broken.
Evelyne's hand moved again.
This time she took Desmond's hand and guided it carefully—as though introducing him to the warmth of her own body.
Desmond held his breath.
For a moment, he did not move.
But when his hand finally followed her silent invitation, his grip closed firmly.
Not rough.
But certain.
"ERGHH…!" — Evelyne's eyes closed instantly, her lips parting as the sensation ran through her.
It was the touch of a man who had restrained himself for far too long.
Evelyne answered with a deeper breath.
Her other hand moved slowly, taking Desmond's remaining hand. With a softness that bordered on playful curiosity, she lifted his fingers toward her face.
Then her lips brushed them.
A light touch.
Warm.
Yet filled with meaning.
Evelyne lingered in the moment.
Her tongue moved slowly along the rough skin of Desmond's fingers, exploring with quiet curiosity—as though discovering something she had never known before.
Something stirred inside Desmond's chest.
Something far wilder than warmth.
Evelyne shifted slightly above him.
Not hurried.
But enough to make the distance between them feel dangerously thin.
The movement felt like a quiet temptation.
Desmond released a heavy breath.
His hands tightened around her waist, his large palms resting against the curve of her body as if to ensure she would not disappear.
Evelyne looked down at him through half-lowered lashes.
A faint smile lingered at the corner of her lips.
Not a challenging smile.
More like someone standing at the edge of a fire—aware of the heat, yet choosing to step closer.
"Am I making you restless, my lord?" — Evelyne whispered.
Her voice was little more than warm breath between them.
Desmond looked at her deeply.
His dark eyes were no longer entirely calm.
Something had begun to move there—something long hidden beneath years of restraint.
Evelyne saw it.
And strangely… it only made her own breath warmer.
"If I am being too bold…" — she murmured softly,
"…you only need to tell me to stop."
Yet the way she spoke those words felt like the opposite of refusal.
More like an invitation offered with quiet grace.
Desmond did not answer.
His hands remained firmly around her body—as though ensuring she would not vanish.
Evelyne closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted.
Their gazes locked.
And within the silence of the old Wolfram chamber—
a tension began to grow between them.
Soft.
Dangerous.
Like a small ember slowly awakening into flame.
[POV — EVELYNE]
"I could feel the change in his breathing."
"Heavy."
"Warm."
"As if something inside Desmond's chest was waking from a long sleep."
"My hand still held his when he touched me. His grip was strong—too strong to be accidental."
"Yet I did not pull away."
"If anything…"
"I moved closer."
"Close enough to feel the heat of his body pushing against the cold air of the room."
"There was something inside him that made my heart beat faster."
"Not fear."
"Something else."
"Something wild."
"A strength he had kept buried for far too long."
"And for reasons I did not fully understand…"
"But…. I wanted to see it."
"I wanted to know what this man would become if he ever stopped restraining himself."
"I exhaled slowly as I looked into his eyes."
"Dark."
"Deep."
"And no longer entirely calm."
"A small smile appeared on my lips before I even realized it."
"My lord…" — I whispered.
"The word escaped naturally."
"Not because I was forced to say it— but because the way he held me made the word feel… right."
"I shifted slightly."
"Only a small movement."
"But enough to make the distance between us almost disappear."
"I could feel the tension in his body now."
"And it made my heartbeat quicken."
"Do you always restrain yourself like this?" — I asked softly.
"My gaze remained on his."
"Not challenging."
"But lingering long enough for the meaning behind the question to be clear."
"My hand moved slowly across his shoulder."
"His muscles tightened beneath my palm."
"Strong."
"Warm."
"So different from my own body."
"I bit my lower lip without thinking."
"A small habit I barely noticed—until I saw his eyes follow the movement."
"My smile deepened slightly."
"I only wish to know…" — I murmured,
"…what you are like when you stop holding yourself back."
"His breathing changed again."
"Heavier now."
"Warmer against my skin."
"I tilted my head slightly, pale strands of hair falling over my shoulder like a curtain of moonlight."
"If I am being too bold…" — I whispered, almost like a secret,
"…you may stop me." — But I did not move away.
"Not even slightly."
"Instead, I leaned closer."
"And for a brief moment— I realized I truly hoped he would not stop me."
"Because somewhere deep inside me,"
"something wild had begun to wake as well."
"And I wanted to know if Desmond was brave enough to awaken it completely."
"I felt the heat of his body beneath me."
"Not merely the warmth of skin—but something deeper."
"Something that moved slowly, like a strength that had long been asleep and was now beginning to stir because of our closeness."
"For a moment I simply looked at him."
"His eyes were dark, full of control… yet no longer entirely calm."
"And that made my heart beat faster."
"There was a strange curiosity growing inside me."
"As though I were standing at the edge of something dangerous— and yet felt an irresistible urge to step closer."
"I drew a slow breath."
"My hand slid to his shoulder, then to his back, feeling the line of muscle beneath my palm."
"Strong."
"Warm."
"My body shifted slightly without truly thinking about it —Only a small movement."
"But enough to make the distance between us nearly vanish altogether."
"His breathing changed— Heavier now."
"And it made the corner of my lips curl faintly."
"My lord…" — I whispered softly, almost like a secret.
"I lowered my head a little, my pale hair falling over my shoulder like a quiet curtain."
"I could feel the tension in his body now." — Not a harsh tension.
"More like a great beast holding itself back."
"And for reasons I could not quite explain… I wanted to see what would happen if he stopped restraining himself."
"My hand moved again." — Slowly.
"Tracing the breadth of his back, wandering gently over his skin as though learning the shape of him by touch alone."
"I leaned closer to his neck."
"The warmth of his skin caught my breath."
"My lips brushed it lightly" — A small kiss.
"So light it was almost a whisper."
"Then, before I could question my own boldness, the tip of my tongue touched his skin in a slow, lingering motion."
"I felt his breath change again."
"Deeper."
"Heavier."
"My body shifted slightly above him, moving with the uneven rhythm of my own breathing."
"My fingers tightened around his back."
"Not to hold him still" — but because I was beginning to drown in the strange sensation filling my body.
"I leaned closer to his ear."
"Is this too bold…?" — I murmured softly.
"The words came out like a temptation."
"And yet they were also an honest question."
"My body moved again, slowly, feeling the closeness between us with a curiosity that was steadily growing."
"I lifted my face slightly to look at him."
"My eyes were half-lidded."
"But a faint smile still lingered on my lips."
"If I am mistaken…" — I murmured quietly,
"…you may stop me, my lord." — Yet my body did not move away.
"Quite the opposite."
"I remained there."
"Close."
"Warm."
"As though waiting to see whether the man beneath me would continue to restrain himself— or finally allow the same fire to awaken within him as well."
___________________________________
At that moment, Evelyne seemed to lose all awareness of the world beyond the man before her.
She savored the warmth of Desmond's skin with a passion that was almost wild. Her lips moved without hesitation along his neck, her breath warm and uneven. Her hands roamed across his back, feeling each tense line of muscle beneath her touch.
Desmond's hands closed around her waist.
Firm.
His large palms nearly covering the entire curve of her slender form, holding her in place with a quiet yet undeniable strength.
Evelyne's body moved slowly above him, sinking deeper into the sensations that now claimed her.
Her breathing grew soft but quick.
As though she were being carried by a current she could no longer control.
Then Desmond spoke her name. — "Evelyne." — The sound was low.
Heavy.
Not merely a call—but something that trembled in his chest like a command that needed no repetition.
Evelyne stopped.
Her body stiffened instantly.
She lifted her face, her breath still uneven, pale hair falling in disarray over her shoulders.
"Hm…!!??" — she answered softly, like someone just awakened from a dream.
Her eyes were still clouded with the warmth surrounding her.
But Desmond did not answer with words.
His hands at her waist suddenly moved.
In a single firm motion he pulled her closer, drawing her down into his embrace with a strength that startled her. — "EERRGGGHHH…!!!!!"
Evelyne gasped softly at the sudden change — "AARGGGHHH…!!!!!"
Her body tensed when Desmond pulled her down with a control he no longer tried to conceal.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes widened.
Her lips parted in surprise.
"Ah—!"
The sound escaped her without warning.
Not merely a startled cry.
But something mixed with sensation too powerful for her to understand at once.
Her hands instinctively clutched Desmond's shoulders.
Strong.
Her body arched slightly as she adjusted to a closeness that now left no space between them.
Her eyes remained wide as she looked down at him.
Her breath trembled.
For the first time since the night had begun—
Evelyne realized that the man who had seemed so calm had finally stopped restraining himself.
Desmond no longer held himself back.
His large hands tightened around Evelyne's waist, drawing her closer until almost no space remained between them.
Evelyne was stunned by the sudden strength that surged from him.
Her body arched slightly as she tried to adjust to the deepening pressure of his embrace.
"My lord… my lord…" — her breath faltered.
The words sounded soft, almost pleading. — "Wait… wait…"
But Desmond did not stop…
"OOHHH…. EEMMPPHHH..!!!!" — Evelyne endured the onslaught with her eyes closed, biting her lip
His arms tightened around her as though afraid she might disappear if he released her.
The strength in his hold was not cruel — but like a dam finally breaking after holding back a relentless current.
Evelyne clutched his back tightly.
Her fingers pressed into his skin as the sensations rushing through her body grew too powerful to contain.
Her head tilted back.
Her pale hair fell like a curtain of winter light in the cold air of the chamber.
"Ah—!" — The cry escaped her lips before she could stop it.
A sound born from surprise, heat, and something far deeper.
And then suddenly— they both fell still.
Only their breathing remained.
Heavy.
Fast.
In the silence of the old chamber, they appeared like a living contrast.
Desmond, large and powerful, sat leaning against the bed.
His arms still wrapped around Evelyne.
While she rested in his lap, her more fragile body sheltered within his embrace.
Their skin contrasted starkly.
Desmond's dark, rough skin shaped by a harsh life.
And Evelyne's pale softness like winter porcelain.
For a while neither of them moved.
Only their breaths mingled.
Then slowly, Evelyne's hand rose.
She touched Desmond's head gently.
Her fingers slid through his hair in a quiet, soothing motion.
Like someone calming a storm.
"My lord…" — she whispered.
Desmond did not answer.
But his breathing remained heavy
[HAAHH….HAAHHHH….]
His broad chest rising and falling quickly.
Evelyne looked at him, her eyes softer now.
"I can feel that warmth…" — she murmured quietly.
"…inside you."
Desmond remained silent.
But Evelyne knew something within him was still restless.
She stroked his hair again.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
"My lord…" — she continued softly,
"let it go." — She lowered her face until her forehead nearly touched his.
"Use this moment…" — she whispered,
"…to release the suffering you have carried for so long."
Desmond's breathing remained heavy.
[HAAHH….HAAHHHH….]
His hands still held her body.
And in the cold chamber of Wolfram House—
Evelyne remained there, in his arms.
Calm.
Warm.
"Let it be complete, my lord…" — said Evelyne
Suddenly Desmond moved.
In one decisive motion he reversed their positions, turning Evelyne beneath him.
The old bed creaked softly under the weight of his large body.
Evelyne gasped in surprise.
"MY LORD—!"
Desmond's hand caught her wrists above her head. His grip was firm, yet not cruel. His other hand rose to her throat, holding her there with a touch that spoke unmistakably of control.
"ERGH— MY LORD…" — Evelyne's voice trembled between surprise and the overwhelming sensations flooding her body.
Desmond's gaze had changed.
It was no longer calm.
Something wild had awakened there—something that had been buried for far too long.
His movements grew firmer.
Their bodies drew closer and apart again in a growing rhythm, the wooden bed creaking softly in the silent chamber.
Evelyne was startled by the strength now ruling him.
Yet she did not resist.
Instead, her body followed his rhythm, her breathing quickening.
"MY LORD…!" — she cried again, her voice breaking under the intensity.
Her free hand clutched his back, fingers pressing into his skin.
Desmond's movements grew faster.
Deeper.
[POUNDING HARD..!]
As though every emotion he had long suppressed had finally found its way out through him.
Their breaths filled the cold air of the chamber.
Sometimes broken by the soft sounds Evelyne could not restrain.
"MY LORD… MY LORD…!"— Evelyne wrapped herself around him tightly, her legs encircling his waist as though she had no intention of letting him go.
Desmond's body tensed.
His breath grew heavier.
Something inside him finally broke—something that had been locked away for far too long.
"EVELYNE!" — he cried suddenly, his voice raw with emotion.
At the same moment Evelyne's body arched beneath him, her eyes wide, her breath stolen by the wave of sensation that left her unable to speak.
Then— everything stopped.
Desmond collapsed silently over Evelyne.
His breath came in heavy bursts.
His large body trembled with something deeper than exhaustion.
Evelyne held him.
Her hand rose to his hair, stroking it slowly with a gentleness that was almost maternal.
"Relax, my lord…" — she whispered softly.
Her hand moved down his back, soothing him.
"Breathe…."
Desmond did not answer.
His body still pressed against hers.
But his breathing changed, becoming fragile.
And then—
he began to cry.
Softly.
Quietly restrained.
His hands clutched Evelyne as though afraid to lose the only warmth left to him.
Evelyne said nothing.
She only held him tighter.
Her fingers continuing to stroke his hair and back.
And in the cold chamber of Wolfram House—
for the first time in a very long time,
a man finally allowed himself to break in the arms of another.