"Mmmhhhh…"
It escaped before I could hold it in, the sound trembling out of me like the current swirling around my hips.
His mouth was hot and insistent, sealing over me, pulling in slow, steady draws that sent tingles down the center of my chest and lower still.
Every time his tongue slid over the hardened peak, a tightening shot through my stomach, my breath catching before I could fill my lungs again.
The coolness of the river clung to my lower body, but everywhere he touched me felt like fire.
His chest was a wall against mine—broad, solid, ridged with scars my fingers couldn't help but trace.
Beneath them, the muscle flexed with every small movement he made, a living reminder of the strength that held me caged in his arms.
One arm wrapped tight around my back, the other cupping my breast as though it belonged there, his fingers spread just enough to make me aware of every inch of myself he claimed.
When he sucked harder, my head tipped back in reflex, my mouth parting for a breath that came out shaky.
I could hear the faint sound of him drinking from me, each pull matching the faint, traitorous throb between my legs.
What is he even trying to drink…? Even though, while struggling not from hesitation but from the sensation overwhelming my heart, one hand ruffled his hair while I placed my jaw on his forehead for support, I was trying to understand what exactly he was searching for, sucking them so intently.
They were empty—just like my heart.
Something sharp and hot sparked low in my stomach—
—and the world tilted.
"!?!"
It was then I felt it—not the brush of water, but the weight of his other hand where it hadn't been before.
Under the surface, the movement had been silent, hidden until his palm settled firmly between my thighs.
The wet fabric clung there, and through it, his touch was unyielding, placed right over the soft ache at my center. My eyes flew open, a small gasp breaking free, and my grip in his hair tightened in pure shock.
"J-Javrian—w-wait, that's—"
The syllables barely left my lips before he changed everything.
That steady, testing hold on me turned into a grind with purpose—faster, firmer, his palm rolling against me like he already knew the exact spot that made my legs weak.
The shock cut straight through me. My knees gave on instinct, and the water caught me just enough to keep me from sinking, but I still fell forward, my breast pushing deeper into his mouth.
His nose nudged the underside of it, his hair brushing my chin, and I felt the sharp scrape of his teeth as he adjusted, sealing his lips tighter over me.
I gasped hard—and then moaned harder—as the grinding tempo matched the pull of his mouth.
My hand clamped in his hair, the other clawing down the warm, wet expanse of his back until my nails hooked into muscle.
I wasn't trying to hurt him.
I was trying to survive it.
Every drag of his palm made the soaked fabric scrape exactly where I couldn't take much, the heat swelling there until even the cool river surrounding us felt far away and unreal.
My thighs twitched, trying to close, but he was there—wide, certain, spreading me just enough to keep the pressure exactly where it counted.
"Ah—" The sound ripped out of me before I could swallow it, because he shifted just enough for the heel of his hand to drag up and press right into the center of my pulse.
My whole body jumped in a helpless shudder.
His arm locked more tightly around my ribs, holding me pressed into him as if he felt the way my hips had started moving without permission, chasing each rub like my body had decided for me.
His breathing had deepened, rough against my skin, but his pace didn't falter.
He kept me there, kept working me over—dragging me over that spot again and again, until every pass felt like it was pulling something tighter and lower, winding me into knots.
And soon enough, as I felt how the protest my thighs were doing to clench tighter started to loosen, as if my knees were weakening—giving his hand more room to rub—I felt his middle finger, as if finally having some space, push in tightly, moulding the fabric that was within so hard that I could feel him slowly entering.
It was a strange feeling, especially how, unlike yesterday night, my mind was clear.
It all felt strange.
And I finally gave myself permission, stopped suppressing my emotions, and tried to, for this moment, feel how it feels to be loved... just for this moment.
With eyes hazy and wanting to melt down, I opened the doors of my guard that I kept up to numb my emotions, to become weak again for a moment.
"Sl-slow—!"
'N-no…'
The world around me seemed to dissolve.
One second, I was lost in the warmth of Javrian's forehead against mine, his breath mixing with mine in that intimate bubble we'd created. The next, my eyes caught movement in the treeline beyond his shoulder.
A figure stood there, half-hidden by shadows and morning mist.
Even at that distance, even with her face covered by trembling hands, I knew that silver hair. The way her shoulders shook with each ragged breath she took.
Lila.
My blood turned to ice in my veins.
She was watching us.
Had been watching us this entire time—watching me pressed against Javrian's bare chest, watching him hold me like I was something precious, watching us share what should have been her moment.
Through the gaps between her fingers, I could see tears streaming down her face, glinting like broken glass in the early light.
Her pale eyes were wide with a devastation so profound it made my chest constrict painfully.
And suddenly, like a knife twisting in an old wound, I was back in that bedroom.
⟩ Purple hair framing a face twisted with pleasure… my husband's broad back between her legs… and me, standing in the doorway with something inside me cracking apart. ⟨
The parallel hit me like a physical blow.
I was Livina now. I was the other woman. I was the one stealing what belonged to someone else.
Lila's lips moved, and even across the distance, I could read the words that fell from them like drops of poison:
"You took my everything."
The same accusation. The same devastation. The same betrayal.
But this time, I was the betrayer.
"No," I whispered, my hands suddenly shoving against Javrian's chest. "No, no, no—"
He didn't budge. His silver eyes remained fixed on his task with that intense focus, completely oblivious to the woman breaking apart in the shadows behind him.
"Javrian!" I pushed harder, panic rising in my throat like bile. "Lila is there! She's watching us!"
But he didn't turn. Didn't even glance over his shoulder. His attention remained locked on me as if nothing else in the world mattered.
Just like Victor had been with Livina—blind to everything except his own desire.
I could see Lila from here—see the way her breathing hitched like each inhale was a battle, see her fingers clawing at the tree bark until it crumbled and fell.
Her knuckles were white, bleeding, desperate.
She looked exactly like I had that night—the only difference was I had become numb, and she was showing the side I should have.
Broken. Abandoned. Watching the person she loved choose someone else.
"Please," I begged, my voice cracking as emotions I thought I'd buried forever came flooding back. "Please look at her. She's—"
A tear fell from my eye, landing on his forehead. It was enough to make his eyes notice mine, and his hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away tears I didn't realize were falling.
"Luna," he said softly, that same gentle tone that had been undoing me piece by piece. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong?
Everything was wrong. I was wrong.
The image of Lila's devastated face blurred with memories of my own reflection in palace mirrors—hollow-eyed, hopeless, watching my world crumble while my mind numbly pretended not to see.
I had sworn I would never become what Livina was. Never be the woman who destroyed another's happiness. Never be the reason someone else felt worthless, unwanted, cast aside—even though I hadn't said it out loud.
But it appeared, just like how Javrian had his own hidden wounds he didn't know existed, I too had one.
And yet here I was, wrapped in the arms of a man who belonged to someone else, someone who had loved him first, someone who deserved him more than a broken, empty shell like me.
Something inside me snapped.
My jaw clenched, and as if the emotions poured out of last night finally surged free, I did what I shouldn't have done here.
Slap
My palm cracked across Javrian's face with a sound that echoed off the water like thunder, jolting his eyes and mind—everything thrown into visible shock.
"Stop it, Javrian!" The words tore from my throat in a scream that scattered birds from nearby trees. "You are no better than Victor!"
The accusation hung in the morning air like a curse.
Javrian's head had snapped to the side from the force of my slap, and when he slowly turned back to look at me, his silver eyes were wide with shock and confusion.
But I couldn't stop. The dam had burst, and years of suppressed pain came pouring out in a torrent of rage and self-loathing.
"N-no! At least Victor pretended to feel guilty!" I continued, my voice breaking as I fought to breathe through the sobs building in my chest. "At least he had the decency to hide what he was doing! But you—you parade me around in front of her like some kind of trophy!"
Inhaling all my breath, I yelled:
"YOU ARE WORSE THAN HIM!"