Emilia's POV

I couldn't breathe. Or maybe I was breathing too fast. I didn't know.

All I knew was that Valeria was touching me.

Her hands, her fingertips-exploring, tracing, learning. Not like before.

Not like the teasing touches, the controlled restraint, the moments where I knew she was holding herself back.

This was different. She was different. And I felt like I was coming undone beneath her hands.

A slow unraveling, thread by thread, my body betraying me, my heart pounding so violently it echoed in my ears.

I gripped her shoulders, desperate for something solid. My knees felt weak.

I had wanted this-God, I had wanted this. For so long, longer than I was willing to admit. But nothing could have prepared me for how it would feel.

For how she would feel. The way her fingers mapped the curves of my body like she was trying to memorize them.

The way her touch was so careful, almost hesitant-like she didn't quite believe she was allowed to do this.

And the way her hands lingered on my skin, warm, strong, certain, but still so unsure. I couldn't take it. I didn't know what it meant for her.

But I knew what it meant for me. I wanted more. I wanted her to keep going.

I wanted her to stop hesitating. I wanted her to want me back the way I wanted her.

But she was hesitating. She wasn't pulling away. But she wasn't moving forward either. And I couldn't handle the space between us anymore.

"Valeria..." Her name slipped from my lips like a prayer, a whisper, a plea.

I didn't recognize my own voice. It was too soft. Too vulnerable. And she heard it. She felt it.

I could tell by the way her fingers twitched against my skin, by the sharp breath she took, by the way her gaze flickered-searching, uncertain.

But she didn't let go. Didn't step back. Didn't stop touching me.

Her thumb brushed over the base of my throat, a slow, unintentional stroke that sent shivers down my spine. She was so close.

Close enough that I could see the way her chest rose and fell, the way her lips parted slightly like she was about to say something-

But she didn't.

She just stared at me, looking lost. I swallowed hard, heart hammering, my hands tightening on her shoulders like I was afraid she would disappear.

"I..." Her voice was rough, uneven, uncertain in a way I had never heard before.

She swallowed, eyes flickering away for a fraction of a second before locking onto mine again.

"What now?" she asked.

I felt my pulse skip. I searched her face, the hesitation, the conflict, the need.

I could have kissed her. I could have closed the space between us, pressed my lips against hers, shown her exactly what I wanted.

But this wasn't about me. This was about her.

Because for the first time-Valeria was the one choosing to touch me. For the first time-she was the one on the edge of something she didn't understand. And I wouldn't take that choice away from her.

"Whatever you want," I whispered. "Only what you want."

I let her decide.

Valeria's POV

I should have pulled away. I should have let go.

But instead-

I touched her. Soft. Deliberate. Undeniable.

My fingers traced the curve of her jaw, brushing her chin, feeling the way her breath hitched under my touch.

Her body moved on its own. She pressed against me-hips meeting mine, craving contact.

And fuck-my body reacted.

Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I pushed her against the wall.

Her back met the surface with a soft thud, and the sound she made-the sharp intake of breath, the soft, surprised moan-sent something hot and uncontrollable rushing through me.

"Fuck..." she gasped, her voice breathless, her face turning red.

Her reaction-the way she trembled slightly, the way her hands clenched against my shoulders-made my chest tighten. My instincts screamed at me to pull back, to slow down, to stop before I did something wrong.

But then-

She looked at me. Wide-eyed. Desperate. And I saw the truth before she even spoke.

"It... it didn't hurt," she managed, struggling for words, her voice softer now, raw with something unspoken.

I didn't move. I wasn't sure if I believed her. I had spent my whole life knowing that my hands were meant for damage.

That I only knew how to take, how to hurt, how to obey commands I didn't want to follow. I wasn't made for soft things. Wasn't made for this.

"Val..." she whispered, her grip tightening on my shoulders. "It didn't hurt. It felt good."

Good. I swallowed, watching her, reading her body, searching for any sign of hesitation. There was none. She didn't want me to stop. She wanted me closer.

I let out a slow breath, my hand slipping from her jawline into her hair.

"This is okay?" My voice came out softer than I meant. She hummed in response, a sound that sent a slow burn through my chest.

That was all I needed. I leaned in-not rushing, not taking, just moving closer, feeling the space disappear between us.

Her lips were right there. I could feel her breath against mine, warm, shaky.

But I didn't kiss her.

Not yet.

Instead, I tilted my head slightly, my nose brushing the delicate skin of her neck, inhaling the soft, faint scent of her. Fuck, she smelled good.

I closed my eyes for half a second, letting myself have this moment. Letting myself want.

Then I moved, my lips hovering over her jawline, tracing just beneath her ear. Her breath hitched.

She stopped breathing completely. And that sound-that reaction-made something inside me snap.

"Princesa..." I whispered, my voice lower, rougher, dripping with something I had never let myself feel before.

Her hands shot up to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, gripping me like she needed something to hold on to.

I expected her to pull me in. To push. To take control of the moment.

But she didn't. She just held me. And for once, I was the one who had to decide.

I didn't know how to do this. Kissing-that was never part of it before.

In all the times my body had been used, given away, sold, traded-kissing had never mattered.

Men didn't pay for kisses. They paid for other things. So I had never learned.

Never bothered. Never cared.

Until now. Until her.

So I leaned in, softly pressing my lips on hers, she let out a soft whimper that sent a jolt into my body.

I should have moved my lips. I knew that much. I knew that a kiss wasn't just about pressing mouths together-it was supposed to be more.

But I didn't move. Because I didn't know how. Because this was different.

So I just... pressed my lips against hers.

Still. Hesitant. Uncertain. And she whimpered. Not in frustration. Not in disappointment.

But in something else entirely. She melted. Completely.

Her entire body softened against mine, her fingers tightening in my hair, her breath catching like she didn't need anything more than this.

Like this was enough. I pulled away. Not far.

Just enough to rest my forehead against hers. To breathe.

Her eyes were still closed, her lips still parted, her chest rising and falling with the weight of something neither of us knew how to name.

And for the first time, I realized-

This was my first kiss.

Not the first time someone had put their mouth on mine. Not the first time someone had forced a kiss from me. But the first time I had given one.

Freely.

Without expectation. Without transaction. Without regret.

And fuck, I didn't know what to do with that.

Emilia's POV

Valeria's forehead rested against mine, her breath warm, uneven, unsure.

She had kissed me. But not like I expected. Not like someone who had done it before. Not like someone who knew what to do next.

She had just... pressed her lips against mine.

Still. Motionless. Like she didn't know what came after. Like she didn't know if she was allowed to take more.

And yet, it had been everything. Because it was Valeria. Because for the first time, she had chosen to touch me.

To kiss me.

To let herself want something that wasn't about survival, wasn't about obligation, wasn't about repaying a debt. I felt like my entire body was weightless.

Like I had melted into her without even realizing it. I wanted to open my eyes. To look at her. To see if she was as wrecked by this as I was.

But I was afraid. Afraid that if I moved, if I said anything, if I let even a single breath of reality into this moment-

She would pull away completely. So I stayed still. I let myself feel the warmth of her breath fanning over my lips. I let myself bask in the fact that she had touched me first.

That she had let herself have this. Even if she didn't understand it. Even if she had hesitated. Even if it wasn't perfect.

It was real. And it was hers to give.

I exhaled slowly, finally opening my eyes, heart hammering against my ribs. She was still there.

Still so, so close.

Her eyes were downcast, like she was processing something, like she was lost in a world of thoughts she didn't know how to escape.

My fingers twitched against the back of her neck. I wanted to pull her back in.

To kiss her properly. To show her that this could be something more.

But then, I saw it-

The hesitation in her eyes. The doubt creeping in, the uncertainty of what she had just done.

And I knew. If I moved too fast, she would disappear.

She wasn't ready. Not yet.

So I swallowed my own longing, my own desperation, and instead-

I whispered her name. "Valeria."

Her body tensed against mine. I felt her breath hitch, her grip on my waist loosening slightly, like she was preparing to step back. Like she was preparing to run. I tightened my fingers on her shoulders, just enough to keep her here, just enough to make her stay.

"It's okay," I murmured. She didn't say anything.

She just stared at me-lips still parted, breathing still uneven, eyes still searching for something she couldn't name. I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to be afraid. That I wasn't going anywhere.

That whatever this was between us-she didn't have to figure it out alone. But I knew her.

I knew that if I pushed, if I tried to name this for her-

She would shut down. She would walk away. So instead, I let my forehead rest against hers again.

I let my lips brush against the edge of her jaw- A barely-there touch, a silent promise.

"I meant it," I whispered, my voice steady, gentle.

"Only what you want."

She inhaled sharply.

Valeria's POV

I stared at her. She was so close, her breath warm against my skin, her fingers still tangled in my hair, grounding me.

I felt her hand move, slow and careful, fingertips grazing my cheek, tilting my face toward hers.

"What is it?" She asked softly. My jaw tensed. I didn't know how to say it. Didn't know if I should. Didn't know if she'd think I was stupid for even needing to ask.

But I had to. Because this wasn't a job. This wasn't something I had learned. This was her. And for the first time in my life, I didn't know the rules. I swallowed hard, my throat tight, my voice rougher than I intended when I finally spoke.

"Was it okay?"

Emilia's lips parted slightly, eyes softening like she wasn't expecting that question. I clenched my jaw, already regretting asking, already preparing for something I didn't want to hear-

"Was it okay?" I asked again, quieter this time, my stomach tightening with something I couldn't name.

Emilia exhaled slowly. I watched her expression shift, a flicker of something deep and unreadable crossing her face before she spoke.

"It was perfect," she whispered.

I searched her eyes, waiting for the lie. Waiting for hesitation. But she wasn't lying. Still, something in me couldn't believe it.

Couldn't trust it. Because I wasn't sure if I knew how to be perfect for anyone.

But then-

She smiled. Soft. Real. Devastating. And she whispered-so quietly, so gently, like she was saying something sacred-

"So perfect I'd love if you did it again."

My chest tightened. My breath hitched.

Emilia's POV

For a moment, she just stared at me.

Like she had no idea what to do with what I had just said. Like my words had done something irreparable inside of her.

Her hands were still on me-one tangled in my hair, the other hovering near my jaw like she wasn't sure if she had permission to keep touching me.

I could feel her breath against my lips. Still so close. Still on the edge of something neither of us knew how to name.

But then-

She hesitated. I saw it happen in real time.

The way her fingers twitched like she was about to let go. The way her shoulders stiffened, like she was realizing how much had just happened between us.

The moment cracked. She was about to pull away.

And for the first time-

I didn't let her. I reached for her wrist, fingers curling around it softly, keeping her from stepping back.

"No." It came out quieter than I meant. "Don't run away, stay," Softer. Like I was asking her for something I didn't want to live without. She froze completely.

Not in rejection. But in confusion. Like she had never been asked that before. Like she had never been given the option to stay. She swallowed hard, eyes darting over my face, searching.

"I don't know what you want from me," she whispered, her voice raw, almost broken. I let out a slow breath, loosening my grip but not letting go.

"I just told you." She shook her head, jaw tightening.

"That's not-" She stopped, her breathing uneven, her fingers twitching at her side. "I don't know how to give you-"

"Then don't think about it," I cut in gently. "Just stay." Her breath hitched.

Her body was so tense, so locked up, like she was fighting herself, like she wanted to do the right thing but didn't know what that was. I could see the battle happening inside her. The urge to run.

To retreat into the world she knew.

To be what she had always been-someone who takes orders, who gives when something is demanded, who doesn't ask questions.

I wouldn't let her do that now. Not with me.

"Valeria," I murmured again, softer this time. She exhaled shakily, like she was coming apart right in front of me.

I reached up, slow, patient, giving her every chance to pull away. But she didn't. She let me touch her. My fingers grazed the side of her face, brushing against her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her eyes fluttered just slightly. A reaction. A sign of something breaking open inside her.

"Just stay," I whispered again. And this time- She let me pull her toward the bed, let me guide her to sit beside me.

It wasn't sexual. It wasn't about pushing for more. It was just about being.

She sat stiffly at first, uncertain, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. But then I shifted, moving closer, pressing my forehead against her shoulder.

A silent reassurance. She wasn't alone in this. She let out a slow breath, and then, finally-her body relaxed.

Not completely. Not fully. But enough. Enough for me to know that this wasn't her running. This was her choosing to stay.

And that meant more than anything else ever could.