The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 177: Tease

ERIS

I should have fought harder.

Should have summoned fire to push him away, should have used every ounce of my considerable power to establish boundaries he couldn’t cross, should have done literally anything other than lie there beneath him like some helpless maiden from a tragic romance.

But the moment his lips touched my neck, every rational thought evaporated like water on hot stone.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t attack with the urgency I might have expected from someone who’d just spent several minutes radiating barely controlled anger. Instead, he was methodical, deliberate, tracing a path along the column of my throat with kisses so light they barely qualified as contact.

Just enough pressure to make my skin prickle with awareness. Just enough heat to remind me that despite his ice magic, he burned.

His mouth traveled lower, following the curve where my neck met my shoulder, then across my collarbone with the kind of attention that suggested he was memorizing every inch of exposed skin. When he reached the hollow of my throat, he paused there, his lips pressing against the pulse point that was currently hammering like it was trying to escape my body entirely.

"Wait—" I managed, though my voice came out breathless and significantly less commanding than intended. "Soren—"

He ignored me completely, continuing his downward journey toward the neckline of my shift. The fabric had already been loosened when the maids helped me change, tied with a simple ribbon that wouldn’t survive any real resistance.

He didn’t bother untying it.

His teeth caught the edge of the fabric, pulling it aside with the kind of casual confidence that suggested he’d done this before—or had at least imagined it enough times to perfect the technique. The linen yielded easily, sliding down to expose more skin, and his mouth followed immediately, lips and tongue tracing patterns across newly revealed territory.

"Soren, we shouldn’t—" I tried again, lifting my hands to push against his shoulders.

But I wasn’t trying. Not really. Because the moment my palms made contact with the solid warmth of him, feeling the way his muscles shifted beneath his tunic, my fingers curled into the fabric instead of pushing him away.

He was making my mind go absolutely blank.

Despite the cool air of the forest, despite being surrounded by ice magic and bioluminescent cold, I was getting hotter. Actually burning, heat settling beneath my skin in ways that had nothing to do with my inherent fire and everything to do with the man currently mapping my body with his mouth.

Sweat was beginning to gather at my temples, along my spine, in places I absolutely should not be sweating simply from being kissed.

His hands, which had been planted on either side of my head, began to move. Slowly. Teasingly. One slid down to cup my face while the other traced a path along my side, fingertips brushing against ribs, the curve of my waist, the flare of my hip but never quite touching where I was suddenly, desperately aware I wanted to be touched.

It was intentional. Absolutely, infuriatingly intentional.

He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how his feather-light touches were making me increasingly desperate, exactly how my breathing had gone shallow and quick.

I glared at him when his fingers brushed maddeningly close to my breast but didn’t actually make contact, and he had the absolute audacity to smile against my skin before lifting his head to look at me.

Those glowing eyes held wicked amusement now, anger transformed into something far more dangerous.

He leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. Then the corner of my mouth. Then, with his lips barely brushing against mine, whispered:

"Don’t act surprised, Your Majesty... you brought this on yourself."

"I wasn’t—" I started to defend myself, to explain that clarifying our arrangement was reasonable and necessary and absolutely not intended to make him angry.

But before I could finish that sentence, his hands moved.

Both of them, simultaneously, gripping my thighs with enough force that I gasped. Not painful, never painful but firm enough that I felt claimed, held, completely at his mercy.

And then he pulled.

Dragged me across the moss until there was absolutely no space between us, until I could feel every inch of him pressed against me, until the evidence of exactly how much this was affecting him was impossible to ignore.

My breath left in a rush, shock and desire tangling together until I couldn’t separate them. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

His smile had gone absolutely feral now, that dangerous expression that suggested the careful control he usually maintained was hanging by a thread that was about to snap.

He shifted my legs, lifting them with casual strength that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, and draped them over his shoulders.

The position folded me nearly in half, opened me completely to his gaze, left me feeling simultaneously more vulnerable and more aroused than I’d ever been in my life.

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to my calf. Soft. Almost gentle. Then his teeth grazed my ankle... not quite a bite but close enough that I felt it everywhere... and his eyes never left mine.

Never broke contact even for a second.

"Do we always have to do something so inappropriate in sacred places?"

I managed, trying to inject some kind of dignity into a situation that had long since abandoned anything resembling propriety.

His expression shifted slightly, became more serious despite the desire still burning in those glowing eyes.

"I had almost no intention of doing this with you here, Your Majesty," he said quietly, his voice carrying that same dark edge from before. "I brought you to show you something beautiful. Something that mattered to me. But then you went ahead and riled me up with all that talk about replacing you and stepping aside and acting like you’re disposable."

He leaned forward, the movement pushing my legs further back, his body covering mine completely as he towered above me.

"So this," he continued, reaching up to catch both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head against the glowing moss, "is your fault."

I tried to pull free, more out of principle than any real desire to escape, but his grip was immovable. His free hand traced down my arm, across my collarbone, his fingers spreading across my chest as though claiming territory.

"Besides," he added, his tone shifting to something almost conversational despite our current position, "there’s nothing inappropriate about this. It’s simply the course of nature. Ice and fire mixing. Elements responding to each other the way they always have."

His hand slid lower, fingertips brushing across fabric that suddenly felt far too substantial.

"Remember our agreement?" His voice dropped even darker, became something that made my pulse spike with equal parts arousal and the faint edge of genuine concern. "Every time you suggest I’d be better off without you, that I should find someone else, that you’re somehow replaceable... I punish you."

His smile returned, and there was nothing playful about it anymore. Nothing gentle or teasing. This was pure predatory intent.

"So now," he murmured, his glowing eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away, "I’ll make sure you learn properly. Make sure you understand exactly why that kind of talk is unacceptable."

Shit.