CHAPTER 209: THE WORLD AROUND

The silk beneath her was cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the lingering heat between them. Rose lay there for a moment, chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm, her hair a spill of gold and copper against the dark pillows. Eren stood over her, the faint shimmer of sweat tracing the lines of his body, his breath coming in quiet, deep pulls. His gaze lingered—not on her curves, but on her eyes, as if every heartbeat of hers was written there for him to read.

The flicker of torchlight painted their shadows across the walls, dancing in slow, hypnotic waves. Neither spoke. The silence between them was thick, but not empty—it was full of everything they had not yet said, every unvoiced confession pressing at the edges of the moment.

Eren moved closer, the bed dipping slightly under his weight. His palm found her cheek, his thumb brushing slowly along the curve of her jaw. Her eyes fluttered shut for an instant, leaning into his touch as if she had been waiting for it for centuries.

He kissed her—not with urgency, but with the unhurried certainty of a man who had no intention of letting her slip away. His lips moved against hers like a quiet promise, their breath mingling in the narrow space between. When he pulled back, it was only far enough to let his eyes find hers again.

Rose reached for him, her fingers curling into the soft strands of his hair, guiding him back down. Their lips met once more, slower this time, the kiss deepening until her body arched instinctively beneath him. The heat between them stirred again, not as a rush but as a slow, winding river pulling them both in.

Eren’s hand traveled, tracing the elegant line of her throat before resting against the rapid beat of her heart. He felt it—steady yet quick, as if her body couldn’t decide whether to calm or race. His other hand drifted lower, brushing over the curve of her waist, the rise of her hip, and pausing there, his touch gentle yet claiming.

Her breath caught, her lips parting slightly, and she let out a soft sound that seemed to settle somewhere deep in his chest. He bent his head, trailing kisses along the side of her neck, tasting the faint salt of her skin, the subtle sweetness beneath. Rose’s hands slid down his shoulders, her fingertips gliding over the hard planes of muscle before settling at his back, pulling him a fraction closer.

Their bodies began to find a rhythm without thought, a subtle alignment that had nothing to do with speed and everything to do with closeness. Eren’s movements were slow, almost teasing, as though he wanted to memorize every detail—the sound of her breathing, the way her lashes trembled, the warmth of her skin under his palm.

Rose shifted beneath him, her hips rolling ever so slightly, and Eren answered with an almost imperceptible deepening of his hold. His thumb brushed along the inside of her thigh, his touch a careful balance between restraint and invitation.

She exhaled, a soft, trembling breath, and her eyes closed as if surrendering to the moment entirely. "Eren..." she whispered, her voice a quiet plea.

He kissed her again, slower still, as though trying to draw her name from her lips over and over. His free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling gently in her hair. The weight of him above her was not crushing but protective, as though he meant to shield her from the world outside this room.

Eren pulled back just enough to look at her. Her gaze was luminous in the dim light, her pupils wide, her lips slightly parted. His hand at her hip slid inward, the tips of his fingers brushing a place that made her entire body shiver in response. But his touch was unhurried—just a soft, lingering caress meant to heighten the ache rather than satisfy it.

Rose’s moan was barely more than a breath, but it reached him like an arrow, sinking deep. Her hips moved in a slow, instinctive roll, pressing into his hand. Eren’s lips curved in the faintest of smiles—not one of victory, but of reverence. He bent his head to kiss her collarbone, lingering there, letting his breath warm her skin before his lips claimed another place along her chest.

Her hands were restless now, traveling over him with tender insistence, mapping him as though each line of muscle and scar was a piece of a story she longed to know.

The rhythm between them remained steady, like the slow toll of a distant bell—each movement deliberate, measured, meant to draw out rather than rush. The air between them thickened, scented with warmth and something sweeter, almost intoxicating.

Eren’s hand kept its patient exploration, his fingers tracing small, deliberate circles that made Rose’s breath hitch each time. Her moans grew softer but more frequent, the sound of someone utterly lost in the pull of sensation.

Her head tilted back, exposing the slender column of her throat, and he took the invitation without hesitation. His lips pressed there, then opened slightly, teeth grazing in a teasing promise. She trembled beneath him, her fingers curling tightly into his shoulders.

He didn’t push harder; he didn’t need to. Every touch, every kiss, was a slow unwrapping, a careful reverence for the gift of her trust.

Her breathing quickened, and Eren shifted, letting his hand wander from her thigh to her hip, then across her stomach in a tender sweep. His gaze never left her face as his fingers brushed lower again, this time with more certainty. Rose’s lips parted in a quiet gasp, her hips lifting slightly to meet him.

Their eyes locked, and for a long moment, nothing moved but his hand—tracing, circling, coaxing her into a state where time seemed to dissolve.

When he finally leaned down to kiss her again, it was softer than all the others, almost fragile. She kissed him back with a desperate sweetness, her hands sliding to cradle his face.

He pulled away only enough to whisper, "I want all of you."

Her answer came in the form of another kiss, urgent yet still within the unhurried rhythm they had built. The fire between them was no longer a sudden blaze, but a steady, consuming warmth that promised not to burn out quickly.

Eren let his mouth wander again, following the slope of her neck down to the gentle rise of her chest. Each kiss was a vow, each touch a silent question he already knew the answer to. Rose’s moans were softer now, threaded with something deeper than just pleasure—they carried relief, trust, and the faint tremor of surrender.

His hand, still moving with patient precision, coaxed another shiver from her. Her thighs shifted, parting slightly more, and he adjusted to settle between them without breaking the connection of his touch.

The rhythm of the room became the rhythm of them—slow, steady, inevitable. His breath mingled with hers as he moved against her, and she met him with the same pace, their bodies speaking a language older than words.

Rose’s voice broke into a quiet cry, her fingers tightening in his hair. Eren stilled for just a heartbeat, as though savoring the sound, before pressing a kiss just below her navel.

And then—without haste, without breaking the spell—he began to lower his head further, his hands parting her with the same reverence he had shown all along. He paused, his breath warm against her, letting the moment stretch until it was almost unbearable.

The world outside did not exist. There was only the bed, the firelight, and the space between the last kiss and the one yet to come.

And then—he leaned closer.

The world outside had ceased to exist. There was only the warm glow of the firelight, the steady beat of her heart, and the patient way Eren’s breath caressed her skin.

Rose lay back against the pillows, her legs parted in quiet surrender, her fingers twisted in the sheets. The cool silk beneath her only sharpened the heat radiating from where his hands held her open, his touch reverent yet unyielding.

He lingered there, his gaze locked on hers, his lips curved in something between a smile and a vow. Then, with a slowness that made her pulse quicken, he lowered his head.

The first touch of him was feather-light, almost questioning, and it sent a shiver rushing up her spine. She inhaled sharply, her lips parting in a soft, breathless moan that filled the air between them.

Eren didn’t rush. He stayed close, his mouth working in unhurried patterns, as if learning the shape of her pleasure by memory alone. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing her with a tenderness that made her hips lift involuntarily.

Rose’s moans grew fuller now, slipping out between unsteady breaths. Each sound seemed to pull him deeper into the rhythm, his hands tightening just slightly on her thighs. His eyes remained half-lidded, his focus entirely on her, as though she were the only thing that existed in the room.

The fire cracked somewhere behind them, its heat mingling with hers, but it was his mouth that set her aflame. He alternated between soft, lingering sweeps and firmer, more insistent motions, each one matched to the rise and fall of her breath.

Her fingers slid from the sheets into his hair, tangling there, guiding him, urging him silently to keep going. He obliged without hesitation, his movements slowing again, drawing out every last tremor in her voice.

"Oh... Eren..." she breathed, her voice breaking into a whimper as he changed the angle slightly, sending another wave of sensation through her. Her legs trembled, and he steadied her, one hand holding her gently in place as his mouth continued its slow, consuming worship.

Time became a haze. She was lost to the rhythm of him, the unhurried patience that only made the heat inside her build higher. Her moans turned softer but more urgent, her breaths quickening as though she were climbing toward something inevitable.

Eren didn’t relent. His pace stayed steady, his attention unwavering, his mouth and tongue moving with the same reverence as his hands. Each sound she made seemed to anchor him, each shiver under his touch another reason to take just a little longer.

She could feel herself unraveling, piece by piece, under the steady, skilled devotion of him. Her back arched, her fingers tightened in his hair, and her voice spilled into the air again—low, breathless, and full of surrender.

And still, Eren took his time.