FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 424: I Want To Burn

The tension between them thickened with every passing second. The only sounds in the room were the gentle splash of water, their breathing, and the distant murmur of the Spire preparing for war outside.

Zeyra leaned closer. Her breasts, still covered by the thin fabric, brushed against his arm as she reached across his chest. The contact sent a visible shiver through her. She continued downward, washing the ridges of his abdomen with painstaking care, her fingers lingering on the long scar across his stomach.

Sol’s hand rose from the water, catching her wrist gently but firmly.

"Zeyra..." His voice carried a warning, low and rough. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to," she interrupted softly. Her dark eyes met his, fierce and vulnerable at the same time. "Let me take care of you. Just for a little while."

She pulled her wrist free and continued. This time, when the cloth disappeared beneath the water, her hand followed. Her fingers brushed along his lower abdomen, with a tendency to go even lower.

Sol’s muscles tensed, the dense power in his body reacting instantly to her touch.

The atmosphere in the room had now shifted completely. What started as an act of care was quickly turning into something far more charged.

Zeyra’s cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted as she explored him beneath the water. Her free hand rested on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart.

"You’re so warm," she breathed, almost to herself. "Even in cold water."

The scent of crushed lotus and spiritual herbs from her body mixed with the faint metallic tang still clinging to him was slowly starting to drive him crazy.

Meanwhile Zeyra’s hands grew bolder. The cloth dipped lower, brushing over his lower abdomen, then teasing just above the waterline. Her breathing had changed... deeper, slightly uneven.

Sol’s hand rose from the water and this time gently cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"Zeyra," he said, voice low and rough, "you’re playing with fire right now."

Her dark eyes sparkled with quiet defiance and desire. "Maybe I want to burn."

She dipped the cloth lower, beneath the waterline. Her hand followed. The first touch along his inner thigh made Sol’s abs tighten visibly.

Zeyra’s breath grew shallower as her fingers explored further, finally wrapping around the thick, heavy length of his cock beneath the cold water, already half-hard from the prolonged intimacy of her touch.

The moment her hand closed around his cock, her eyes widened in genuine shock.

"Sol..." she gasped quietly, almost reverently. Her fingers couldn’t fully encircle his girth. The heat radiating from him was intense ...almost unnaturally hot compared to the freezing water.

She could feel the thick veins pulsing against her palm, the impossible hardness and length that seemed to throb with its own heartbeat.

She gave one slow, experimental stroke from base to tip. A soft, surprised sound escaped her throat.

"It’s... so hot," she whispered, eyes locked on his face. "And so big..."

Her hand moved again, slower this time, exploring him with growing fascination. She stroked him gently but firmly, learning every inch, feeling him swell even thicker in her grasp. Her own thighs pressed together as arousal flooded through her body.

Sol’s jaw clenched hard. His hand gripped the edge of the tub until the wood creaked.

"Zeyra," he growled in warning, trying to hold onto his control. "If you keep touching me like that..."

But she didn’t stop. Her hand moved again, slower this time, fascinated. Slowly, her strokes became more confident, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head beneath the water.

She stroked him from base to tip, learning his shape, feeling him grow even harder in her grasp. Her breathing had turned into soft pants, matching the quickening pulse she could feel in her hand.

The hunger in her eyes was unmistakable now.

The slow, sensual washing had completely transformed into something far more dangerous.

For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other... eyes burning, breaths mingling.

Sol’s silver-crimson eyes darkened with lust. Instead of pulling away, he finally gave in to the rising heat between them. His large, calloused hand rose from the water, dripping, and settled on her waist.

The thin fabric of her undergarment was already damp from leaning over the tub. He gripped her gently at first, then pulled her closer until her hips pressed against the wooden rim.

His other hand joined the first, sliding up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist through the fabric before moving higher.

Zeyra’s breath hitched as his palms cupped her breasts over the thin material. His thumbs brushed across her hardened nipples, circling them slowly, deliberately.

Even through the clothe, the heat of his hands made her shiver violently.

"Sol..." she moaned softly, her hand never stopping its steady stroking beneath the water. She squeezed him a little tighter, pumping him with long, luxurious strokes while her hips shifted restlessly.

The tension in the room thickened like warm honey, sweet and heavy, wrapping around them both until every breath felt deliberate.

Sol’s silver-crimson eyes darkened with barely restrained desire as he looked at her.

Instead of immediately claiming her mouth, he leaned in slowly, deliberately. His face hovered just inches from the curve of her neck, and he inhaled deeply... taking in her intoxicating scent. Crushed lotus flowers, sweet swamp lilies, and the faint earthy trace of spiritual herbs clung to her skin, now mixed with the subtle aroma of her growing arousal.

The smell made something primal stir deep inside him.

"You smell incredible," he murmured against her skin.

Zeyra shivered at the warmth of his breath. Her hand continued its slow, worshipful strokes beneath the water, but her body had gone almost still, completely focused on him.

Sol pressed his lips gently to the side of her neck, just below her ear. The kiss was feather-light at first... a soft, reverent touch. Then another, slightly lower.

He took his time, kissing along the elegant line of her throat, savoring the way her pulse fluttered wildly under his lips.