Elowen's POV

The darkness of the night enveloped me, a comforting cocoon that felt both safe and stifling. As I lay there, cocooned in the warmth of Lysander's arms, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. His grip on me was firm, almost as if he feared I might vanish if he let go. I could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back. It was grounding, yet it stirred something within me, a burgeoning awareness of how close we were, how intimately we were entangled.

I shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, to feel his warmth even more. But as I moved, I heard a low, deep groan escape his lips. I froze, my breath hitching in my throat. That sound—it sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear and something else I couldn't quite name. I felt something hard near my hips, a realization that made my cheeks flush with heat.

"Lysander?" I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

He stirred behind me, his grip tightening for a moment before loosening slightly. "Elowen," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, yet there was a dangerous edge to it that made my pulse quicken.

I tried to pull away, embarrassed by the situation, but his arms caged me in. "Don't," he said, his voice a growl that was both a command and a plea. "Don't move."

My heart pounded in my chest, the proximity to him making it difficult to think clearly. "I... I didn't mean to..." I stammered, my face burning with shame and a burgeoning desire I didn't want to acknowledge.

He shifted slightly, pressing closer to me, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending another shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. "Lysander, I..."

"Shh," he murmured, his hand moving to gently cup my chin, tilting my head back so he could look at me. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made my stomach flip. "You're safe with me, Elowen. Always."

His words were meant to reassure me, but the way he looked at me, the way his body pressed against mine, made it hard to focus on anything other than the heat pooling in my core. I felt a tremor run through me as his lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses that made me squirm.

"Lysander, please," I whispered, though I wasn't sure what I was asking for. I was torn between the safety I felt in his arms and the fear of the intensity of my own feelings.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through me. "Please what, Elowen?" he asked, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. "Tell me what you want."

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but it was impossible with the way he was touching me, with the way his voice sent shivers down my spine. "I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shifted, his body pressing even closer to mine, his breath hot against my skin. "I think you do," he murmured, his hand moving to trace the curve of my hip. "Tell me, Elowen. Tell me what you need."

The need in his voice mirrored my own, a desperate longing that I couldn't ignore. "I need..." I began, but the words caught in my throat. I didn't know how to put into words the tumult of emotions swirling within me.

He groaned softly, his lips trailing down my neck to my shoulder, his hand moving to cup my breast, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Tell me," he insisted, his voice a low growl that sent a jolt of desire through me.

I gasped, my body arching into his touch, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I need you," I finally whispered, the admission both terrifying and freeing.

His hand tightened on my breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, drawing a moan from my lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with approval and a hint of something darker. "You're doing so well."

His praise made my heart race, a mix of fear and exhilaration flooding my senses. He continued to touch me, his hands exploring my body with a possessive intensity that left me breathless. I could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against me, a constant reminder of how deeply he was affected by our proximity.

As his hands roamed my body, his lips continued to leave a trail of kisses along my neck and shoulder, each touch igniting a fire within me that I couldn't ignore. I squirmed beneath him, the need for more becoming almost unbearable.

"Lysander, please," I begged, my voice trembling with desire. "I need you."

He growled softly, his hand moving to slip beneath the waistband of my pants, his fingers brushing against the heat between my legs. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive whisper.

I nodded, unable to find my voice as his fingers began to move, sending waves of pleasure through me. "Yes," I gasped, my body arching into his touch. "Please."

His fingers moved with a skilled precision, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building within me, a tight coil that threatened to snap at any moment. "Lysander, I..."

"Let go," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "Let me take care of you."

His words were my undoing, the final push I needed to fall over the edge. I cried out, my body trembling with the force of my release, my mind a haze of pleasure and relief. Lysander held me through it, his touch gentle yet possessive, a grounding presence amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

As I came down from the high, I felt a sense of vulnerability wash over me. I turned in his arms, burying my face in his chest, "T-that was amazing, t-thank you," I murmured, embarrassed about what just took place.

Lysander held me tightly, his hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. "You never have to thank me, Elowen," he said softly. "Taking care of you is my responsibility. My privilege."

I shifted slightly, needing to regain some semblance of control. But as I moved, I felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against my hip again. My breath hitched, my body reacting to the sensation even as my mind screamed at me to pull away.

Lysander's grip tightened, his voice a low growl in my ear. "Stay still, Elowen," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're driving me crazy."

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. "Lysander, I..."

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he interrupted, his hand moving to cup my cheek, tilting my head up so I was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a primal hunger that made my stomach flip. "The way you feel, the way you react to my touch... it's intoxicating."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I was trapped in his gaze, overwhelmed by the intensity of his presence. His hand moved from my cheek to my neck, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin there, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine in a feather-light kiss. "So perfect."

His words, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming. I felt like I was drowning in him, in the sensations he elicited within me. My body was responding to him in ways I didn't fully understand, ways that scared me but also made me crave more.

As he continued to kiss me, his hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of my pants once again. My breath caught in my throat, my body tensing in anticipation. "Lysander, wait," I whispered, my voice trembling.

He paused, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at me. "What is it, Elowen?" he asked, his voice gentle but filled with a dangerous edge.

"I'm scared," I admitted, my cheeks burning with shame. "Of how you make me feel. Of what's happening between us."

His expression softened further, a tenderness in his eyes that took me by surprise. "You don't need to be scared," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm here to protect you, to take care of you. Always."

His words were meant to reassure me, but they only heightened the intensity of my emotions. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, teetering between fear and desire. But the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, made it impossible to pull back.

"I trust you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I just... I don't know what to do."

He smiled softly, a hint of that dangerous edge still in his eyes. "Just let me take care of you."

I nodded, unable to find my voice. His smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned in, his kiss deepening. His tongue parted my lips, exploring my mouth with a possessive hunger that left me breathless. His hand moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping beneath my waistband once more, his fingers finding the sensitive flesh between my legs.

I gasped into his mouth, my body arching into his touch. "Lysander," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

His fingers moved with a skilled precision, teasing and exploring, eliciting a cascade of sensations that left me trembling. "You're so responsive," he murmured against my lips. "So perfect."

I could feel the heat pooling in my core, my body reacting to his touch in ways that both scared and exhilarated me. I tried to stifle my moans, but each brush of his fingers sent waves of pleasure through me, making it impossible to stay silent.

"Don't hold back," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "I want to hear you."

His words broke through my restraint, and I moaned softly, my body arching into his touch. He responded with a satisfied growl, his fingers moving faster, bringing me closer to the edge.

"Lysander, please," I begged, my voice trembling. "I need..."

"What do you need, Elowen?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me."

"I need you," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

His fingers pressed harder, his touch becoming rougher. "Good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. "You're so good for me."

I felt the tension building within me, a tight coil that threatened to snap at any moment. "Lysander, I'm... I'm going to..."

"Let go," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Come for me."

His words were my undoing. I cried out, my body trembling with the force of my release, my mind a haze of pleasure and relief. Lysander held me through it, his touch unrelenting, prolonging the sensations until I was a quivering mess in his arms.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I felt a rush of vulnerability wash over me. I turned in his arms, burying my face in his chest, my body trembling with the aftershocks. 

Lysander's grip tightened, his hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. "Such a perfect girl, so good for me." 

His presence sent a warmth through my chest, a comfort I hadn't felt in a long time. Despite everything, despite the fear and confusion that still lingered, there was something undeniably safe about being in his arms.

But there was also a growing sense of unease, a fear of the intensity of my own feelings. I shifted slightly, trying to regain some semblance of control. Lysander sensed my unease, his hand moving to gently tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Don't be scared, Elowen," he said softly, his eyes filled with a dangerous tenderness. "You're mine. I'll always protect you."

His words were both a comfort and a warning, a reminder of the complex web of emotions and loyalties that bound us together. I nodded, unable to find my voice, and nestled deeper into his embrace, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull me back to sleep.

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i'm blushing