Eon's thrusts were measured, each one drawing a soft, breathy moan from Elora's lips as she clung to him, her legs locked around his waist like she feared he'd pull away. The room's cool air brushed against their sweat-slicked skin, proving the existence of the heat building between them.
But his mind wasn't fully in the moment. Her earlier cry of pain echoed in his thoughts, the way her face had twisted in discomfort even as she pushed through it. ‘Why?’ He watched her now, her eyes half-shut, lips parted in what seemed like a mix of lingering ache and rising pleasure. Moonlight painted faint streaks across her features, highlighting the furrow in her brow that hadn't fully smoothed out. She was enduring this, for him? The confusion gnawed at him, a knot in his chest that tightened with every roll of his hips.
'Does she... love me?' The thought hit him like a cold splash from the basin in the corner, startling and unwelcoming like a stuck thought in his mind. What had he done to earn that from someone like her? Elora, with her sharp wit and noble blood. She was leagues above him, a highborn lady, even if her family's name was tarnished now. Back in his old world, he'd never dreamed of approaching someone like her; here, in this medieval tangle of magic and secrets, she'd always seemed untouchable. She was always Alaric's little sister, his "flower," as the guy mentioned sometimes when he was talking to him about things related to soldiers, warning Eon with that protective glint in his eye. Don't pluck it, don't even think about it.
Eon had respected that boundary, admiring her from afar, her beauty, the way her black hair caught the light like raven wings, the curve of her smile when she let her guard down. Sexy, sure, but he'd buried those thoughts deep, convinced she saw him as just the strange outsider bound to her family by circumstance. Yes, she was a little friendlier towards him than others in the mansion, but he didn’t feel her affection was to this degree.
And yet here she was, deflowering herself on him, giving up her virginity in this dim inn room with its creaking floors and lavender-scented quilts. Her body trembled beneath him, not just from pleasure but from the rawness of it all. He could feel it, the tightness that spoke of inexperience, the way she winced subtly with deeper thrusts. ‘Why push through the pain?’ His enhanced high elf senses picked up every detail: the quick hitch in her breath, the faint salt of tears on her skin when he kissed her shoulder. She couldn't see his face in the darkness, her human eyes limited by the scant moonlight, but he could see hers clearly, etched with determination and something vulnerable that twisted his gut.
He slowed his pace, unable to ignore it any longer. "Elora," he murmured, his voice low and rough against her ear, "why are you doing this? Going to these lengths... for me? If it hurts, we can stop. I don't want to hurt you."
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze as best she could in the shadows. A single tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down her cheek, catching the moonlight like a tiny diamond. She didn't wipe it away, just held him tighter, her nails pressing into his back.
"Why would a woman throw herself at a man like this?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly, laced with emotion that hit him harder than any spell. "Think about it, Eon. Why?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Love! She loved him?! The realization crashed over him, leaving him breathless, his hips stilling for a moment as he stared down at her. ‘How? When?’ He wasn't some hero from her world's tales, just a guy from Seoul, transplanted into this mess of elves and estates, fumbling through with half-baked inventions and borrowed strength. Though everyone in this world didn’t knew, at least she knew his origin. At least she knew he wasn’t someone special, nor was he any messenger of the Goddess. So why? The question lingered in his mind like a needle.
Teressa had been different, a fleeting night of passion born from grief and loneliness, but Elora... this felt real, profound. His heart pounded, a mix of awe and disbelief swelling in his chest. "You... you love me?" he asked, the words tumbling out soft and incredulous, showing his hesitation to ask her this question.
Her lips trembled, another tear slipping free from her eyes. "Why her? Why Teressa and not me?" The question came out raw, laced with hurt that she'd clearly been carrying for too long.
Everything clicked into place like gears in Eon’s mind. Teressa, that night in his room, the night they spent together. ‘Elora must have known somehow, and pieced it together or... overheard?’ The guilt twisted in him, It was sharp and unexpected. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone; But seeing the pain in her eyes now, it all made sense: the defensiveness, the playful jabs, the way she'd flushed earlier tonight. It was clearly Jealousy, hidden under layers of her noble pride.
Before he could voice the question forming on his lips, she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud made it too real. "That night... I climbed up to your room. I couldn't sleep, thinking about everything, Darius, my family and you! I wanted to just talk. But when I got there, I heard her voice. And then... the sounds. You two were making love." Her breath hitched, saying the word love, the memory clearly still fresh, a wound that hadn't healed.
Eon's throat tightened, imagining her there in the dark, suffering on her own, not being able to share this with anyone. "Elora, I didn't know... I'm sorry. It wasn't…"
She shook her head, cutting him off, her hands framing his face now, forcing him to look at her. "Do I not have a chance with you? Can't I become yours too? Or am I just... not enough?"
The vulnerability in her voice broke something in him. He couldn't bear it, her tears, the way she laid her heart bare in this intimate tangle of limbs and sheets.
Without another word, he pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around her like a shield against the world. Her body molded to his, warm and soft, her heartbeat racing against his chest. "You are enough," he whispered fiercely into her hair, inhaling the herbal scent that clung to her. "More than enough. I just... I never thought you'd feel this way. I didn't want to overstep, to ruin what we had."
She clung to him; a soft sob escaped from her mouth, but it shifted into something else as he tilted her chin up and kissed her. The kiss was deep, pouring all the unspoken feelings into it: regret for the pain he'd caused unknowingly, gratitude for her courage, and a burgeoning love for her that surprised even him. Her lips parted under his, salty from tears but sweet with mint, her tongue meeting his that reignited the fire between them. The quilts rustled as he shifted, still buried inside her, the closeness amplifying every sensation.
What started as comfort quickly turned intense, their bodies responding to the emotional flood. Eon began to move again, slower at first, each thrust a promise to her, a way to show her what his words couldn't fully convey. She gasped into his mouth, her hips rising to meet him, the earlier pain forgotten in the rush of connection. The bed creaked louder now, the rhythm building like a heartbeat, the wet sounds of their joining filling the room. Her nails raked down his back, leaving trails of fire that only spurred him on, and he trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there, tasting the pulse fluttering under his lips.
"Elora," he groaned, his voice muffled against her collarbone as he thrust deeper, feeling her walls clench around him in response. She arched beneath him, her breasts pressing against his chest; her nipples were hard and sensitive, sending jolts through both of them with every friction. The air grew thicker, heavy with their mingled breaths and the musky scent of arousal, the cool breeze from the window doing little to temper the heat inside the room.
She wrapped her legs higher around him, pulling him impossibly closer, her moans turning desperate. "Eon... please," she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair, guiding his mouth to hers again. The kiss was messy now, all teeth and tongue, fueled by the raw emotion spilling out. He picked up the pace, his hands roaming, cupping her breast, thumb circling her nipple until she whimpered, then sliding down to grip her hip, angling her for deeper penetration. Each thrust hit that sweet spot inside her that made her cry out, her body trembling on the edge.
The intensity built like a storm, sensations overwhelming: the slide of skin on skin, slick and hot; the way her hair spread out on the pillow like dark waves; the faint glow of moonlight on her flushed face, eyes locked on his with a mix of love and lust that mirrored his own whirlwind of feelings. Eon's mind raced. 'She's mine now,' the thought was possessive and tender all at once. He felt her tightening under him, her breaths coming in short gasps, and he reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, circling it with gentle pressure that made her buckle against him.
"Yes, right there," she panted, her voice breaking as pleasure crested. She came undone first, her body convulsing around him, walls pulsing in waves that also pulled him over the edge. Eon also came right after her, thrusting deep one last time with a guttural moan, spilling inside her as if stars burst behind his eyes. They clung to each other through the aftershocks, their breaths ragged, and hearts pounding in unison.
As the haze cleared, Eon rolled her to the side, keeping her close, their bodies still joined in the messy aftermath. The room settled around them, the cold wind blowing outside; the distant creak of another guest's footsteps up their room could be heard, but in that moment, it was just them, wrapped in a new understanding, the weight of misunderstanding lifting like dawn breaking.
Author note: Please share your thoughts on this chapter in the comment section. I want to write the erotic scenes a better way. For that, I need your feedback. So don’t hesitate to be strict with me.
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