april
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,271
- Points
- 63
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Damon
The gardens in the estate were in full bloom, the kind of place that seemed woven from dreams. Rows of white lilies swayed beside manicured hedges, while fountains whispered their soft songs under the shade of ancient stone arches. The air was rich with the scent of roses and wisteria, mingling with the soft hum of bees. Servants moved quietly along the paths, pruning here, watering there, their heads respectfully bowed whenever their lord passed by.
And Damon, the ever Impeccable count Blackthorn, moved through this living masterpiece like a shadow brought to life.
He cut a figure of breathtaking darkness against the riot of color; 6’4” of elegant, predatory grace, his perfectly tailored black coat shifting with each stride. His jet black hair caught in the breeze, slightly tousled and dangerously unruly, giving him an edge of wildness beneath his controlled exterior. His eyes, dark as obsidian, drank in everything; the gardens, the servants and most of all, her.
Amethyst.
She walked beside him, her hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm, the sunlight catching in the rich waves of her hair. Her dress was pale lavender, its delicate fabric brushing against his dark attire like a whisper of springtime against night. She had the glow of a woman newly wed and deeply in love, though she still wore the spark of defiance in her eyes.
It drove Damon utterly mad with desire.
His hand could not stay still. Though decorum demanded restraint with servants about, his hunger was too great. His fingers slid lightly around her waist as they walked, tracing small, teasing circles against the fine silk of her gown.
Amethyst squealed softly, swatting at his hand with a gasp of indignation. “Damon! Stop…they'll see!” She gasped, her cheeks flushing a perfect rose-pink as she glanced nervously at the nearest gardner.
Damon's lips curved into a sinful smile, a rare and devastating sight. “Let them see,” he murmured, his voice deep and velvety, edged with hunger. His dimples appeared, a fleeting glimpse of mischief in his otherwise solemn face.
“What care have I for their eyes when I have you, little rebel?”
Before she could scold him further, his hand darted upward, fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric at her underarm, giving a sudden, wicked squeeze.
Amethyst let out a startled squeal, her whole body jerking. She smacked his hand away with both of hers, giggling despite herself, her laughter bubbling up involuntarily before she could bite it back.
“Damon!” She giggled furiously, her voice low but trembling. “Stop it this instant! You'll embarrass me!”
The sound of her laughter struck Damon like fine wine hitting the veins. Hunger deepening, his dark eyes flared with an almost supernatural light.
“Oh, my love…” he breathed, his voice gone hoarse. “Youve no idea what that does to me.”
With a swiftness that made her gasp, Damon spun her into his arms, one hand spidering against the small of her back, the other capturing her wrist before she could strike him again. His lips descended on hers in a kiss that began playful, almost teasing; a coaxing caress. But the moment her laughter trembled against his mouth, it turned ravenous, possessive.
Her giggles were swallowed by his kiss, the sound vibrating sweetly between them as she wriggled in his hold. Her fists beat against his chest in protest, though her strikes were nothing compared to his unyielding strength.
Damon only laughed, a deep, rich sound so rare that the nearby servants froze in shock. Their master never laughed. Yet here he was; the feared, silent count, grinning like a love-struck fool.
“You fight so sweetly, little rebel,” he growled against her lips. “Go on, fight me more.”
Suddenly, with a strangled giggle and a burst of strength born of desperation, Amethyst shoved him back and tore herself free. She fled down the garden path, skirts flying, laughter trailing behind her like music.
For one stunned heartbeat, Damon stood frozen. Then, the sound of his laughter as he gave chase. It was the melody of a man transformed; wild, joyful, unrestrained, hunting his bride like a predator who already knew the chase was only foreplay.
“Run, little wife,” he called, his tone almost sing-song, laced with that wicked delight that made her blood quicken. “The faster you run, the sweeter it will taste.”
Amethyst darted around a fountain, her chest heaving, her breath coming in frantic gasps. She dared to glance over her shoulder, and that was her undoing.
Damon was already upon her.
With a sound that was half growl, half laugh, he lunged, his arms locking around her waist as he lifted her clean off the ground. She shrieked, kicking wildly, but he didn't so much as falter.
“Put me down!" She gasped, writhing.
“Oh, I'll put you down," Damon promised, his tone almost tender. And then, with deliberate cruelty, he dropped with her straight into the grass, his body following hers, straddling her hips before she could crawl away. His weight pinned her perfectly. His presence alone stole the breath from her lungs.
There was a dangerous glint in his eyes; playful, yes, but laced with something darker. His lips curved into that devastating, dimpled smile, the one that made her heart trip even as dread twisted deliciously low in her belly.
“Caught you,” he murmured, voice velvet soft, rich with triumph. His fingers hovered just above her sides, so close she could feel the heat of them, her body tensing in anticipation. “You've been holding back, darling. I can hear it in the way you breathe. The laughter is right there, just beneath the surface.”
“Damon…” She began, warning and plea all tangled together.
He didn't let her finish. The very tips of his fingers glided up her ribs in a feathery stroke, barely a whisper of a touch. Amethyst lurched, a started giggle bubbling past her lips before she could stop it. She slapped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed, mortified that she'd already given him that much.
Damon's grin widened, sharp and knowing, and he inhaled as though savoring the sound. “There you are,”he said softly. “My beautiful little rebel.”
And then he attacked.
His fingers danced along her ribs in light, teasing patterns, unpredictable and maddening. Amethyst twisted beneath him, her laughter breaking free in soft, breathless bursts as she tried desperately to squirm away.
“Damon!” She gasped, scolding him through giggles.
“Shhh,” he crooned, leaning close so that his lips brushed the curve of her ear. “We wouldn't want to draw the servants just yet, would we? Best to keep your voice down…if you can.”
His hands darted higher without warning, slipping beneath her arms to scribble along the tender hollows there. Amethyst's body arched off the ground, a shriek of laughter tearing from her throat before she could swallow it down. Her arms slammed against her sides in reflex, but Damon was relentless, sliding his fingers back and forth, circling, teasing, pressing.
For a moment, his touch was almost playful, giving her bursts of unbearable sensation followed by brief reprieves that left her trembling and breathless. But as her laughter grew louder, spilling past her lips in helpless streams, Damon's demeanor shifted. His smile sharpened, his movements grew quicker, more precise, a hunter closing in.
“Never hide this sound from me,” he warned, “ever again. It belongs to me. Defy me again, I dare you.”
Before she could catch her breath, his hands shot downward, catching her about the waist. His thumbs dug into the soft curves of her hips, kneading and pressing in cruel little circles. Amethyst shrieked, her back bowing, her laughter breaking into frantic, breathless peals.
“No! Damon! Please…!” Her voice dissolved into gasps as he shifted again, never giving her time to anticipate.
His touch was everywhere at once, sliding up her sides, then suddenly scrabbling beneath her arms, then sweeping down her thighs in quick, skittering bursts. Each new spot ignited a fresh wave of helpless laughter, her body convulsing beneath him as she tried and failed to escape his grasp.
Gasps rippled through the gardens as servants stopped mid-task, staring in disbelief. Some turned away respectfully, but others could only watch, spellbound, as the terrifying Count Blackthorn became a man utterly undone by love before their very eyes.
“They can see, Damon!” Amethyst panted, her words breaking apart on a tide of wild, panicked laughter as she twisted beneath him.
Her plea only seemed to spur him on. His smirk deepened, his dark hair falling loose around his face as his fingers swept mercilessly over her ribs, drawing out brighter, louder bursts of laughter.
Before she could process sensations, Damon slid down her body with predacious grace, his black coat brushing over her skirts.
“Damon, no! Nonononono!” She yelped, thrashing in fresh panic.
“Oh, yes.” He said, laughing softly, darkly, like a man savoring a decadent meal.
With swift, practiced motions, he plucked off her slippers, first one, then the other, tossing them carelessly into the grass. The summer sun spilled over her now bare feet, pale and delicate, toes curling desperately as though trying to hide.
“Beautiful.” Damom purred, his voice edged with delight. “So soft. So terribly vulnerable.”
His fingers descended and Amethyst's scream echoed throughout the gardens, shattering into a fit of hysterical laughter. Damon's long, elegant hands glided over her arches, scratched teasingly at her heels, and swept up the tender sides of her feet in relentless, fluid motions. Her entire body rebelled as she twisted and bucked beneath him.
“Damon! I c-cant…I can't bear it!” She gasped, panicking as tears fell freely down her cheeks.
“You will,” he growled, his voice low and intimate. “And you will remember this each time you think of fleeing me.”
Amethyst shrieked as she tried to grab Damon's hands, but he moved with smooth, decisive speed, twisting to the side and trapped both her ankles securely beneath one arm.
“Nohohohoho! Wait! Noooo!” She screamed, realizing she couldn't reach him now. Damon smiled wickedly as his fingers attacked her helpless soles, scratching furiously until she collapsed onto the grass, her fists pounding the ground in pure desperation.
“Tell me, love,” he growled slowly. “Will you ever dare run from me again?”
She shook her head frantically, unable to form words through her hysteria.
“Will you ever try to withhold your laughter from me?” His fingers slowed just enough to make her feel every stroke, his voice a dark caress. “Keep even a single sound to yourself?”
Before he allowed her to answer, Damon abandoned her feet and with terrifying speed, his hands gliding up her sides, leaving a trail of ticklish fire in their wake. His touch was unbearably light, almost teasing, until he reached her ribs once more.
The moment his fingertips pressed inward, it was like an explosion. “NOHOHOHOHOHO! I'LL BE GOOD! JUST PLEASE…!” She wailed, her laughter bursting violently into desperate shrills, her body bowing off the warm grass as he kneaded and probed every sensitive ridge and hollow of her ribcage.
Damon lowered his head, watching Amethyst intently. His dark hair fell forward, a silken curtain framing his face as he studied every trembling gasp and writhing motion. His expression had become focused, as though the torment was some exquisite art form.
“You are so beautifully responsive here,” he murmured, as he drank in her delicious sounds. His thumbs traced upward, pressing tenderly between each rib. “Every laugh, every shudder, every plea…it's mine.”
He caught her lips with his and claimed her mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss.
The world erupted.
Her laughter is swallowed whole, the sound dissolving into a muffled gasp against his lips. The kiss is deep and consuming, leaving her breathless and dizzy. And beneath the heat of it, Amethyst felt something else…something strangely familiar, like a forgotten dream, yet completely otherworldly.
A pulse.
A pull.
It started in her chest, spreading outward like tendrils of fire. An energy surged through her, raw and electric, pouring into Damon as though drawn by an unseen force. Her back arched as she felt it leave her, her laughter transforming into pure, tangible essence flowing into him.
Damon moaned against her mouth. The sound was low, gutteral, startlingly vulnerable. His grip on her ribs faltered for just a heartbeat, his body trembling above hers.
When he finally broke the kiss, his lips remained nearly pressed to hers, his breath hot and ragged, chest heaving. His dark eyes blazed; not just from desire, but with something primal and ravenous. His fingers stilled against her as he fought to compose himself.
Amethyst stared up at him and gasped, realization dawning through the last remnants of laughter. “You…” her voice trembled. “Damon, you fed on me?”
His expression was conflicted, torn between hunger and restraint. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly as if fighting for control. When he opened them again, the raw intensity in them stole her breath.
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Your laughter sustains me.”
The words sent a strange thrill through her, mingling with the fading traces of mirth and torment. “My…my laughter?” She whispered, her pulse racing.
Damon's hands stayed settled on either side of her ribs, just holding, before his thumbs pressed gently into her trembling sides. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“Do you understand now, my darling?” He breathed. “What it is I am? Every helpless giggle, every wild scream, every breath…every ounce of your joy; it is my feast. When you laugh for me, you are giving me everything.”
Amethyst's heart pounded as the truth sunk in. The memories of the last several weeks, newly wed; her own uncontrollable laughter, the unstoppable force of it, flashed in her mind. How easily he could draw it from her, how little resistance she had.
“You need it,” she realized aloud, her voice breaking. “You need me.”
Damon shuddered, his breath catching as if the words themselves struck something deep within him. His grip tightened just slightly, a possessive tremor rippling through his body.
“Yes,” he whispered, fierce and raw. “I need you more than I dare admit.”
His lips returned to hers in another claiming kiss, thirstier this time as his fingertips began their tender torment once again. He devoured her breath and laughter alike, and Amethyst understood with terrible clarity; she would never escape him, she would never stop laughing…and she would never stop loving him.
Damon
The gardens in the estate were in full bloom, the kind of place that seemed woven from dreams. Rows of white lilies swayed beside manicured hedges, while fountains whispered their soft songs under the shade of ancient stone arches. The air was rich with the scent of roses and wisteria, mingling with the soft hum of bees. Servants moved quietly along the paths, pruning here, watering there, their heads respectfully bowed whenever their lord passed by.
And Damon, the ever Impeccable count Blackthorn, moved through this living masterpiece like a shadow brought to life.
He cut a figure of breathtaking darkness against the riot of color; 6’4” of elegant, predatory grace, his perfectly tailored black coat shifting with each stride. His jet black hair caught in the breeze, slightly tousled and dangerously unruly, giving him an edge of wildness beneath his controlled exterior. His eyes, dark as obsidian, drank in everything; the gardens, the servants and most of all, her.
Amethyst.
She walked beside him, her hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm, the sunlight catching in the rich waves of her hair. Her dress was pale lavender, its delicate fabric brushing against his dark attire like a whisper of springtime against night. She had the glow of a woman newly wed and deeply in love, though she still wore the spark of defiance in her eyes.
It drove Damon utterly mad with desire.
His hand could not stay still. Though decorum demanded restraint with servants about, his hunger was too great. His fingers slid lightly around her waist as they walked, tracing small, teasing circles against the fine silk of her gown.
Amethyst squealed softly, swatting at his hand with a gasp of indignation. “Damon! Stop…they'll see!” She gasped, her cheeks flushing a perfect rose-pink as she glanced nervously at the nearest gardner.
Damon's lips curved into a sinful smile, a rare and devastating sight. “Let them see,” he murmured, his voice deep and velvety, edged with hunger. His dimples appeared, a fleeting glimpse of mischief in his otherwise solemn face.
“What care have I for their eyes when I have you, little rebel?”
Before she could scold him further, his hand darted upward, fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric at her underarm, giving a sudden, wicked squeeze.
Amethyst let out a startled squeal, her whole body jerking. She smacked his hand away with both of hers, giggling despite herself, her laughter bubbling up involuntarily before she could bite it back.
“Damon!” She giggled furiously, her voice low but trembling. “Stop it this instant! You'll embarrass me!”
The sound of her laughter struck Damon like fine wine hitting the veins. Hunger deepening, his dark eyes flared with an almost supernatural light.
“Oh, my love…” he breathed, his voice gone hoarse. “Youve no idea what that does to me.”
With a swiftness that made her gasp, Damon spun her into his arms, one hand spidering against the small of her back, the other capturing her wrist before she could strike him again. His lips descended on hers in a kiss that began playful, almost teasing; a coaxing caress. But the moment her laughter trembled against his mouth, it turned ravenous, possessive.
Her giggles were swallowed by his kiss, the sound vibrating sweetly between them as she wriggled in his hold. Her fists beat against his chest in protest, though her strikes were nothing compared to his unyielding strength.
Damon only laughed, a deep, rich sound so rare that the nearby servants froze in shock. Their master never laughed. Yet here he was; the feared, silent count, grinning like a love-struck fool.
“You fight so sweetly, little rebel,” he growled against her lips. “Go on, fight me more.”
Suddenly, with a strangled giggle and a burst of strength born of desperation, Amethyst shoved him back and tore herself free. She fled down the garden path, skirts flying, laughter trailing behind her like music.
For one stunned heartbeat, Damon stood frozen. Then, the sound of his laughter as he gave chase. It was the melody of a man transformed; wild, joyful, unrestrained, hunting his bride like a predator who already knew the chase was only foreplay.
“Run, little wife,” he called, his tone almost sing-song, laced with that wicked delight that made her blood quicken. “The faster you run, the sweeter it will taste.”
Amethyst darted around a fountain, her chest heaving, her breath coming in frantic gasps. She dared to glance over her shoulder, and that was her undoing.
Damon was already upon her.
With a sound that was half growl, half laugh, he lunged, his arms locking around her waist as he lifted her clean off the ground. She shrieked, kicking wildly, but he didn't so much as falter.
“Put me down!" She gasped, writhing.
“Oh, I'll put you down," Damon promised, his tone almost tender. And then, with deliberate cruelty, he dropped with her straight into the grass, his body following hers, straddling her hips before she could crawl away. His weight pinned her perfectly. His presence alone stole the breath from her lungs.
There was a dangerous glint in his eyes; playful, yes, but laced with something darker. His lips curved into that devastating, dimpled smile, the one that made her heart trip even as dread twisted deliciously low in her belly.
“Caught you,” he murmured, voice velvet soft, rich with triumph. His fingers hovered just above her sides, so close she could feel the heat of them, her body tensing in anticipation. “You've been holding back, darling. I can hear it in the way you breathe. The laughter is right there, just beneath the surface.”
“Damon…” She began, warning and plea all tangled together.
He didn't let her finish. The very tips of his fingers glided up her ribs in a feathery stroke, barely a whisper of a touch. Amethyst lurched, a started giggle bubbling past her lips before she could stop it. She slapped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed, mortified that she'd already given him that much.
Damon's grin widened, sharp and knowing, and he inhaled as though savoring the sound. “There you are,”he said softly. “My beautiful little rebel.”
And then he attacked.
His fingers danced along her ribs in light, teasing patterns, unpredictable and maddening. Amethyst twisted beneath him, her laughter breaking free in soft, breathless bursts as she tried desperately to squirm away.
“Damon!” She gasped, scolding him through giggles.
“Shhh,” he crooned, leaning close so that his lips brushed the curve of her ear. “We wouldn't want to draw the servants just yet, would we? Best to keep your voice down…if you can.”
His hands darted higher without warning, slipping beneath her arms to scribble along the tender hollows there. Amethyst's body arched off the ground, a shriek of laughter tearing from her throat before she could swallow it down. Her arms slammed against her sides in reflex, but Damon was relentless, sliding his fingers back and forth, circling, teasing, pressing.
For a moment, his touch was almost playful, giving her bursts of unbearable sensation followed by brief reprieves that left her trembling and breathless. But as her laughter grew louder, spilling past her lips in helpless streams, Damon's demeanor shifted. His smile sharpened, his movements grew quicker, more precise, a hunter closing in.
“Never hide this sound from me,” he warned, “ever again. It belongs to me. Defy me again, I dare you.”
Before she could catch her breath, his hands shot downward, catching her about the waist. His thumbs dug into the soft curves of her hips, kneading and pressing in cruel little circles. Amethyst shrieked, her back bowing, her laughter breaking into frantic, breathless peals.
“No! Damon! Please…!” Her voice dissolved into gasps as he shifted again, never giving her time to anticipate.
His touch was everywhere at once, sliding up her sides, then suddenly scrabbling beneath her arms, then sweeping down her thighs in quick, skittering bursts. Each new spot ignited a fresh wave of helpless laughter, her body convulsing beneath him as she tried and failed to escape his grasp.
Gasps rippled through the gardens as servants stopped mid-task, staring in disbelief. Some turned away respectfully, but others could only watch, spellbound, as the terrifying Count Blackthorn became a man utterly undone by love before their very eyes.
“They can see, Damon!” Amethyst panted, her words breaking apart on a tide of wild, panicked laughter as she twisted beneath him.
Her plea only seemed to spur him on. His smirk deepened, his dark hair falling loose around his face as his fingers swept mercilessly over her ribs, drawing out brighter, louder bursts of laughter.
Before she could process sensations, Damon slid down her body with predacious grace, his black coat brushing over her skirts.
“Damon, no! Nonononono!” She yelped, thrashing in fresh panic.
“Oh, yes.” He said, laughing softly, darkly, like a man savoring a decadent meal.
With swift, practiced motions, he plucked off her slippers, first one, then the other, tossing them carelessly into the grass. The summer sun spilled over her now bare feet, pale and delicate, toes curling desperately as though trying to hide.
“Beautiful.” Damom purred, his voice edged with delight. “So soft. So terribly vulnerable.”
His fingers descended and Amethyst's scream echoed throughout the gardens, shattering into a fit of hysterical laughter. Damon's long, elegant hands glided over her arches, scratched teasingly at her heels, and swept up the tender sides of her feet in relentless, fluid motions. Her entire body rebelled as she twisted and bucked beneath him.
“Damon! I c-cant…I can't bear it!” She gasped, panicking as tears fell freely down her cheeks.
“You will,” he growled, his voice low and intimate. “And you will remember this each time you think of fleeing me.”
Amethyst shrieked as she tried to grab Damon's hands, but he moved with smooth, decisive speed, twisting to the side and trapped both her ankles securely beneath one arm.
“Nohohohoho! Wait! Noooo!” She screamed, realizing she couldn't reach him now. Damon smiled wickedly as his fingers attacked her helpless soles, scratching furiously until she collapsed onto the grass, her fists pounding the ground in pure desperation.
“Tell me, love,” he growled slowly. “Will you ever dare run from me again?”
She shook her head frantically, unable to form words through her hysteria.
“Will you ever try to withhold your laughter from me?” His fingers slowed just enough to make her feel every stroke, his voice a dark caress. “Keep even a single sound to yourself?”
Before he allowed her to answer, Damon abandoned her feet and with terrifying speed, his hands gliding up her sides, leaving a trail of ticklish fire in their wake. His touch was unbearably light, almost teasing, until he reached her ribs once more.
The moment his fingertips pressed inward, it was like an explosion. “NOHOHOHOHOHO! I'LL BE GOOD! JUST PLEASE…!” She wailed, her laughter bursting violently into desperate shrills, her body bowing off the warm grass as he kneaded and probed every sensitive ridge and hollow of her ribcage.
Damon lowered his head, watching Amethyst intently. His dark hair fell forward, a silken curtain framing his face as he studied every trembling gasp and writhing motion. His expression had become focused, as though the torment was some exquisite art form.
“You are so beautifully responsive here,” he murmured, as he drank in her delicious sounds. His thumbs traced upward, pressing tenderly between each rib. “Every laugh, every shudder, every plea…it's mine.”
He caught her lips with his and claimed her mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss.
The world erupted.
Her laughter is swallowed whole, the sound dissolving into a muffled gasp against his lips. The kiss is deep and consuming, leaving her breathless and dizzy. And beneath the heat of it, Amethyst felt something else…something strangely familiar, like a forgotten dream, yet completely otherworldly.
A pulse.
A pull.
It started in her chest, spreading outward like tendrils of fire. An energy surged through her, raw and electric, pouring into Damon as though drawn by an unseen force. Her back arched as she felt it leave her, her laughter transforming into pure, tangible essence flowing into him.
Damon moaned against her mouth. The sound was low, gutteral, startlingly vulnerable. His grip on her ribs faltered for just a heartbeat, his body trembling above hers.
When he finally broke the kiss, his lips remained nearly pressed to hers, his breath hot and ragged, chest heaving. His dark eyes blazed; not just from desire, but with something primal and ravenous. His fingers stilled against her as he fought to compose himself.
Amethyst stared up at him and gasped, realization dawning through the last remnants of laughter. “You…” her voice trembled. “Damon, you fed on me?”
His expression was conflicted, torn between hunger and restraint. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly as if fighting for control. When he opened them again, the raw intensity in them stole her breath.
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Your laughter sustains me.”
The words sent a strange thrill through her, mingling with the fading traces of mirth and torment. “My…my laughter?” She whispered, her pulse racing.
Damon's hands stayed settled on either side of her ribs, just holding, before his thumbs pressed gently into her trembling sides. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“Do you understand now, my darling?” He breathed. “What it is I am? Every helpless giggle, every wild scream, every breath…every ounce of your joy; it is my feast. When you laugh for me, you are giving me everything.”
Amethyst's heart pounded as the truth sunk in. The memories of the last several weeks, newly wed; her own uncontrollable laughter, the unstoppable force of it, flashed in her mind. How easily he could draw it from her, how little resistance she had.
“You need it,” she realized aloud, her voice breaking. “You need me.”
Damon shuddered, his breath catching as if the words themselves struck something deep within him. His grip tightened just slightly, a possessive tremor rippling through his body.
“Yes,” he whispered, fierce and raw. “I need you more than I dare admit.”
His lips returned to hers in another claiming kiss, thirstier this time as his fingertips began their tender torment once again. He devoured her breath and laughter alike, and Amethyst understood with terrible clarity; she would never escape him, she would never stop laughing…and she would never stop loving him.
