Since Esmera was abandoned on a stranger's doorstep as a baby, the only person who has looked out for her is herself.
Until a lark starts visiting her, leaving behind exotic flowers and iridescent pebbles that the internet doesn't recognise.
Esmera...
Please be warned: this chapter contains references and descriptions of physical and emotional abuse. Read with caution if you're sensitive to this kind of content. Thanks for your support 💜
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"I must say, I didn't know you could scream like that," Tauram murmured against Esmera's neck.
For that moment, all she could think about was his lips on her skin, his hand resting on the small of her back, his leg that was wedged between hers. Then he pulled back, his sparkling, mischievous eyes demanding a reply from her.
"I didn't know that about myself either." Esmera bit her lip, looking away in the hope that breaking eye contact with him could dilute her traitorous blushing.
She knew she could scream in fear, in pain, but to do so in pleasure, in ecstasy, was something completely new to her. It was something she could never forget. The heat of the memory seared into her cheeks, into every inch of her flesh, and she didn't need to see it to know it was there.
Tauram, on the other hand, must've seen the heat or at least felt it rising through Esmera, because he tilted her face to his. "Well, I was into it." His eyes fluttered down to her mouth. He smirked. "Was it your way of telling me I'm the best you've ever had?"
Esmera rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to answer that because the truth is that you're the most insufferable I've ever had." She fixed her eyes on his chest in an attempt to slow the hot blood pounding through her ears, but it didn't help.
She would have to look away from him, maybe even leave Milatanur entirely just to catch her breath. Really, she had no hope of doing so when she was this close to him, but there was nowhere else she'd rather be.
Tauram must've known that he was right and Esmera was lying because he simply chuckled, drawing her in for a kiss she accepted too eagerly for someone who claimed to be annoyed by him. Her mouth lingered on his, tasting him, memorising the rush of his breaths so that she would never forget this night.
Esmera loved how annoying Tauram was. It was part of his persistent charm that had disarmed her and slowly dismantled the walls she had built when she swore she'd never let anyone get this close to her ever again. It was what had gained him her trust because his playful nature had told her she had nothing to fear.
She saw how true that was now, when she lay beside him now, bare, vulnerable with her adoration for him, a perfect target should he decide to fire at her, but he didn't.
He merely trailed one of his perfect, gentle hands along the curve of her breast then her ribcage as she lay against him, breathing in synchrony with him. She sighed at the simple pleasure. Then his fingers snagged on some part of her skin, and Esmera froze.
She knew what he had found. She knew what marred her there on her right side, just beneath the edge of her lowest rib.
Tauram eased the blanket down to Esmera's hips so he could look at her with the pale fairy lights illuminating her scar. It hadn't throbbed in days, not since she had arrived in Milatanur, but it did now when Tauram's eyes landed on it.
