The room was a glorious around us, a cathedral of shattered porcelain, toppled trophies, and moonlight-drenched chaos, the air heavy with the intoxicating blend of jasmine, sweat, and the lingering musk of her release.

The carpet beneath us was a soaked, darkened testament to her pleasure, the white fibers clinging to our skin like a lover's desperate embrace.

Lila's body still trembled faintly against mine, her thighs quivering from the aftershocks, her pussy pulsing softly where my fingers had unraveled her, the ruined lace thong shoved aside and forgotten.

Her moans had melted into breathless, reverent whimpers, each one a fragile echo of the screams that had torn through the room like a storm.

I shifted with deliberate care, pulling her with me as I leaned back against the base of the grand piano, the lacquer cool and slick with sweat and her slick beneath my shoulders. The keys clinked softly as my back brushed them, a faint, discordant chord that harmonized with the ragged rhythm of our breathing.

I settled her into my lap, her legs straddling my hips, her bruised thighs framing mine, her weight a perfect, grounding warmth that anchored me to the earth.

The moonlight poured through the glass wall, bathing her in liquid silver that made her skin shimmer like molten gold, her bruises dark constellations etched into her flesh, her blonde hair a tangled, damp cascade sticking to her neck and my chest, fragrant with coconut and sun-warmed skin.

She nestled into me, her face burrowing into the crook of my neck, her breath a hot, uneven caress against my skin, tasting of bourbon and salt when it mingled with mine.

I wrapped one arm around her waist, fingers splaying across the soft, sweat-slick curve of her lower back, tracing the delicate ridges of her spine, the faint scars that whispered stories she hadn't yet shared.

My other hand slid into her hair, stroking the silken strands, heavy and damp, the scent of her filling my lungs with every breath.

"You're a fucking miracle, Lila," I murmured, my voice low and rough with adoration, a chuckle rumbling in my chest as I kissed the shell of her ear, lips lingering on the delicate, fevered skin.

I wasn't lying, she'd awakened another side of me I did not know I had in me.

"How the hell did I find you in this madness?"

She laughed, a soft, husky sound that vibrated against my throat, her lips grazing my collarbone in a slow, worshipful kiss that sent sparks through my veins.

"You didn't find me, Eros—you crashed into me," she teased, her voice cracked and warm, brimming with affection and a playful disbelief. "My sanctuary's a war zone because of you, and I've never felt so… alive."

She tilted her head, kissing the pulse point under my jaw, her tongue flicking out to taste the salt of my sweat, drawing a low, reverent groan from me.

"You're insane, you know that? But God, I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, her breath hitching as she snuggled closer, her tits pressing soft and warm against my chest, the sagging lace bra a forgotten relic.

I chuckled, the sound deep and warm, vibrating through her as I kissed her cheek, slow and deliberate, tasting the faint jasmine and the sharper edge of her exertion. "You're the hurricane, baby,"

I said, my lips brushing the corner of her mouth, then her cheekbone, then the faint scar through her brow, each kiss a vow.

"I'm just the fool who got caught in your storm and never wants out." My fingers kept stroking her back, slow, soothing circles over the soft, pliant skin, feeling the tremor of her muscles as they settled, the heat of her bruises pulsing faintly under my touch like a heartbeat.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Lila—every mark, every sigh, every goddamn inch of you."

She laughed again, brighter this time, her head thrown back for a moment, hair spilling across my arm like a golden river, moonlight catching the sweat beading on her throat.

"Beautiful? I'm a mess, Eros," she said, her voice playful but thick with emotion, her eyes glistening as they met mine, ice-blue and soft with something deeper than lust. "But you… you make me feel like I'm everything."

She kissed my neck again, soft and slow, sucking gently at the skin until I groaned, her lips lingering as she murmured, "I could stay in your arms forever, you know. Right here, with you stroking my hair like I'm something precious."

"You are precious," I growled, my voice fierce with conviction, my hand in her hair tightening just enough to tilt her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat. I kissed along it, slow and worshipful, lips brushing the fresh bruises I'd left, tasting the salt and the faint copper where I'd sucked too hard.

"You're a queen, Lila. Every moan, every tremble, every fucking tear you cried on my fingers—it's all mine, and I'm never letting it go."

Her pulse fluttered under my lips, her breath hitching in a soft, shattered moan—"Eros, you're gonna ruin me"—that made my cock twitch despite the ache in my jeans.

She snuggled deeper into my arms, her body melting against mine, her cheek pressed to my chest, listening to the frantic beat of my heart.

"No, not gonna ruin me, you already have," she whispered, her voice softer now, raw with vulnerability, a smile tugging at her lips as she kissed my chest, her tongue tracing the ridges of my pecs.

"I didn't know I could feel this… safe. This wanted. You're my chaos, Eros, and I'm addicted."

Her fingers traced lazy, affectionate patterns on my chest, nails grazing the bloody crescents she'd carved into my shoulders, her touch light but possessive, claiming me as much as I claimed her.

I kissed the top of her head, my lips lingering in the damp, silken strands of her hair, breathing her in. "You're home now, Lila," I murmured, my voice thick with affection, my fingers sliding down her back again, tracing the curve of her spine, the soft dip just above her ass.

"This wreck of a room, this fucked-up night—it's all perfect because you're in my arms." She laughed, a bright, unguarded sound, and nipped at my neck, her teeth grazing just hard enough to sting.

"Anywhere is perfect with a right person in your arms, and I know I am that person for you." I said surely.

"You're such a sap," she teased, but her voice was warm, her eyes shining as she kissed the spot she'd bitten, her lips soft and reverent. "But don't stop. I love it. I love… this."

We stayed like that, tangled in each other's arms, kissing necks and cheeks and jaws with lazy, adoring presses, chuckling at the absurdity of it all—the shattered lamp, the toppled trophy, the soaked carpet, the moonlight that made us look like gods in a ruined temple.

"We're gonna need a new room," she giggled, her voice muffled against my throat, and I laughed, kissing her temple.

"Fuck the room, I've got you," I said, my hands never stopping, stroking her hair, her back, her bruised thighs, feeling the heat and the tremor of her body as it settled into mine.

She snuggled closer, her breath warm and steady now, her lips brushing my skin in soft, reverent kisses, her moans replaced by contented sighs and the occasional giggle when I kissed a ticklish spot behind her ear, whispering, "I'll do everything you ask me, Lila."

I wanted her to speak it herself, tell me to save her from this room.

Will she do it? If she doesn't was, I going to let the woman i just made out with stay in this prison being tormented?

The room was a wreck, but we were whole, wrapped in moonlight and each other, the distant bass from downstairs a faint heartbeat to the love pulsing between us.

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