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Chiara Cilli
“Suddenly, I felt his fingers on my ribs. I took a sharp breath, stiffening. His expression darkened, his burning eyes challenging me to stop him as his hand moved down on my hip.
But I didn’t do anything.
I had never been touched like that before—so confidently and deliberately. It was overwhelming and unsettled me.
Because I wanted more.
Much more.
I wanted his touch to be rougher.
I wanted it everywhere.
His mouth slightly lifted to one side, and, in an instant, he pulled out my dagger and forcefully pushed it into the wood, just inches from my head.
My brow pinched.
His smirk grew a bit wider. “Relax, Elf.”
― Chiara Cilli, Black Sea

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