Chapter 82

“Don’t clench so tightly.”

Whether Elena hadn’t heard Kennard’s words or simply couldn’t heed them, her body trembled violently.

The moment she did, the way she tightened around him sent a sharp jolt through his entire being, forcing him to bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Unable to endure it any longer, Kennard lifted Elena in his arms and withdrew slightly, only to bring her back down in one swift motion, sinking even deeper into her warmth.

“Ah—!”

A cry, almost a gasp, spilled from Elena’s lips.

With every movement, her body grew hotter, flushing a deep shade of red like embers catching flame. Her cascading hair swayed in rhythm, each strand gleaming as it caught the dim light.

“Your Highness… a little slower…”

Elena’s breathless plea wove through the sound of their bodies meeting. She clung to him desperately, tightening her hold around his neck as if afraid to let go.

Though Kennard held her waist firmly, he could feel the strength draining from her arms with every passing moment.

Lowering his head, he pressed his lips against hers.

“Ah! Your Highness, if you move like that—”

As he took a step forward, still holding her close, Elena let out a shuddering breath, burying her face against his neck.

Every movement sent a sharp tremor through her, drawing a quiet gasp each time.

Reaching the bedside, Kennard gently laid her down.

The moment her back touched the sheets, her arms fell away, too weak to hold on. Her crimson hair spread out beneath her, fanning across the bed like the tail of a peacock, catching the soft glow of the lamplight.

Her gray eyes, clouded with heat, gazed up at him, unfocused. Her lips, slightly parted, trembled as she struggled to catch her breath, revealing glimpses of her white teeth.

As she inhaled shakily, her chest rose and fell beneath the thin fabric of her chemise, her skin flushed with warmth.

Kennard looked down at her, his heart tightening painfully in his chest. A dull ache spread through him, as if his entire body were paralyzed with emotion.

If Elena were ever to be laid upon an altar as a sacrifice—if someone dared to bring such a fate upon her—he would tear apart the very world to stop it.

“I love you.”

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

For a moment, it was as if time had frozen.

Elena’s breath hitched. Her chest, which had been rising and falling rapidly, suddenly stilled. Every muscle in her body tensed as she swallowed hard.

Her gray eyes, still dewy with heat, widened as though she had seen a ghost.

“Your Grace, did you just say…?” Elena’s voice trembled ever so slightly, despite the tension that had frozen her body.

“I said I love you,” Kennard replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned down, pressing his lips gently to Elena’s.

She had always tightly shut her eyes whenever they kissed, but now, she remained still, her lashes not even fluttering as she stared at him with wide, searching eyes.

“I love you, Elena,” Kennard repeated, his voice steady, though his heart raced in his chest. He gazed deeply into her eyes as he kissed her once more, softly whispering the words against her lips.

It was something he had sworn never to say until she regained her memory.

Yet it was also the very thing he had longed to hear from her once she did.

But the emotions welling up from deep within him had become too overwhelming to suppress any longer.

“You are the one who makes my heart beat—and you are the only one who can stop it.”

Before he could finish, Elena’s eyes reddened, and tears began to fill them, shimmering in the dim light.

Then, they fell—clear as glass—rolling down her cheeks, tracing paths of sorrow.

Elena quickly covered her face with both hands, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

Kennard’s heart shattered as he watched her cry, his chest tight with the agony of her pain.

He pressed his lips gently to the back of her trembling hands, whispering softly, “Don’t cry. When you cry, it feels like my heart is being shredded.”

“But Your Grace…” Elena’s voice cracked, muffled by her hands as she struggled to hold back the tears. “You only said you wanted me… you only said I was yours…”

“You thought it was just about wanting you, didn’t you? That I only desired your body?” Kennard’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, his words laced with frustration.

When Elena didn’t respond, his heart sank, a wave of regret crashing over him.

He realized, painfully, that he had never truly expressed his feelings to her—not fully. He had left her to assume that he only wanted her physically, though deep down, he knew she could easily think that.

Every time he had wanted to confess his love, something deep inside had stopped him—a voice that whispered warnings.

“Don’t say it,” it would say. “You can’t say it.”

On some level, he had even wondered if she might feel the same way, but whenever that possibility crossed his mind, fear and anger would seize him. His heart would freeze, suffocated by the doubt.

Even now, that fear gnawed at him.

Would she accept his confession out of obligation? Was she simply trying to please him, thinking she had no choice, since, unlike him, she had no clear identity or noble standing to fight back?

If she’s crying like this, it might be because she’s facing a choice she doesn’t want to make.

Fighting back the rising tide of fear, Kennard gently grabbed both of Elena’s wrists, pushing them aside with tenderness that belied the storm raging within him.

The sight of her tear-streaked face made his anxiety grow, his chest tightening in pain.

“And yet you stayed with me, and you said you wanted me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Your Grace…” Elena sobbed, her words trapped in her throat as she struggled to speak.

“Did you stay by my side because you had no choice? Because you knew I wouldn’t let you go if you tried to leave…?” His voice faltered, the vulnerability seeping through.

“No. I didn’t.”

Elena’s voice was firm now, her words coming out in a rush. She shook her head vigorously, interrupting him, as if to correct the misunderstanding. “I thought I was the only one… in love with you. That it was impossible for me to dare… dare to love you, so…”

Kennard’s heart skipped a beat. Without another thought, he leaned down and covered her lips with his own, silencing her with a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

He pulled her lips into his mouth, desperate and consuming, as if he could swallow her soul with the kiss, to hold her entirely, utterly.

There was nothing more to say. No more doubts.

He knew she felt the same.

With her few simple words, all the worries he’d been harboring melted away in an instant, leaving only relief and certainty.

Kennard slipped one arm behind Elena’s neck, pulling her closer, while his other hand roamed over her body with aching reverence.

His fingers traced the soft curve of her breast, teasing the sensitive peak between them, squeezing and releasing in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

A shudder ran through Elena as her chemise shifted with every touch, the fabric grazing her heated skin like a whisper. Her body arched instinctively, her slender waist curving like a bow drawn taut.

Her breath hitched, a soft gasp slipping from her parted lips. Her face flushed a deep shade of red, and a faint blue vein stood out at the delicate nape of her neck.

Kennard’s lips sought hers, capturing them in a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled, refusing to part, as he continued his slow, tormenting exploration of her body.

“Your Grace…” Elena’s voice quivered, her arms tightening around him in a desperate embrace.

Kennard exhaled heavily, resting his full weight against her for a brief moment. With practiced ease, he pushed aside the heavy fabric of his clothing, impatient, unwilling to be separated from her even for a moment.

The seconds it took to undress felt agonizingly long—an unbearable distance between them that he couldn’t stand.

“Elena,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing.

As he gathered her in his arms, he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, his breath hot against her skin. His grip on her tightened, possessive and unrelenting. The need coursing through him was more consuming than any battle he had ever fought.

No matter how close he held her, no matter how deeply he lost himself in her, it would never be enough.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life coveting her, unraveling her, claiming her as his own.

With her in his arms, he felt as if he could walk through hell itself and not care.

He tried to be gentle—to soothe her, to hold her—but his need for her burned too fiercely to contain.

Worse still, the deeper he moved within her, the tighter she clenched around him, her body gripping him so fiercely that his thoughts shattered into nothingness.

“Elena,” Kennard groaned, her name spilling from the depths of his throat, raw and desperate.

A violent shudder tore through him, like an arrow piercing straight through his core.

Unable to hold back any longer, he sank his teeth into the delicate flesh where her neck met her shoulder, his grip tightening around her.

“Aah—!”

Elena’s cry broke through the haze, her fingers digging deep into his back, her body shivering beneath him.

Her touch sent another tremor through him, her nails marking him, grounding him, even as he lost himself completely in her.