After a few minutes, it occurs to me how he might react when he wakes and sees me staring at him like this, and as much as I wish I could stay in this moment forever, I start to roll away. But before I get too far, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back to him. His body curls around mine, until his chest is pressed against my back, his legs cradling mine, his skin burning mine everywhere we touch. He buries his face into my neck, lips grazing the bare skin of my shoulder. I bite back the urge to imagine those lips tracing over more than just my shoulder.
Shit. This is getting dangerous, I should’ve woken him up the moment I realised who was in bed with me. I let myself enjoy one last indulgent moment in his arms and start to push away again. But his arm only tightens around me.
“Don’t you dare fucking leave,” he murmurs in his sleep, his voice soft and rough all at once, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. Then I feel it—his hips gently grinding against me, his arousal unmistakable.
Rylan is hard.
Rock hard.
Holy gods help me.
My heart skips, and my cheeks flush, as a streak of heat, no, pure desire, spreads through my body. I should move, I should slip away right now, but instead, my body betrays me. I press back against him, wanting to feel the evidence of his arousal against me.
Warmth blooms deep in my belly, and I feel a strong pull low in my core, an awareness of him that I haven’t allowed myself to acknowledge before. It confuses me, this sudden, intense attraction. I don’t even know how I actually feel about him. He’s been my captor, my protector, an enigma, and now, in this moment, something more. But the lines between those roles are blurring, and I don’t know what to make of it.Dammit. Could I actuallywanthim? Want his body against mine? My core liquefies at the mere thought, and my thighs involuntarily squeeze.
Who am I kidding? I more than want him. I want him toravageme. As hard, as fast, as deep… as thoroughly as humanly possible. I can’t remember when, if ever, I craved anything so desperately.
He makes an unintelligible sound, his breath warm against my neck. Burying his face in the curve of my shoulder, he inhales long and deep. “The smell of you... gods,” he whispers, barely audible, but it’s enough to make my pulse race. And then, he murmurs a single word with such naked desperation it makes my heart ache. “Valora…”
Valora. The word is foreign to me. A woman's name, maybe? A lost love? Or… a current one? I should be pulling away, pushing him away, but instead, I continue to lie there, the experience of his body around me making mine spark alive. The way he holds me in his sleep as though letting go is the last thing he wants to do makes me want to give him this, even if it’s someone else’s face, someone else’s body he’s picturing in his dreams. It may be another woman’s memory turning him on, but it’s my body he’s holding. Inexplicably, foolishly, I drop my chin and press the softest of kisses onto the skin of the forearm cradling me, right above the cuff around his wrist, like I’m precious.
A sudden knock on the door shatters the quiet, and Rylan jerks awake. I freeze, waiting for him to fully come back to himself. Then his body tenses as he realises where he is, who he’s with, and he quickly jumps to his feet.
“Shit,” he growls under his breath as I follow his lead and get up off the bed.
He glances over at me and does a double take, his eyes raking like fevered fingers up my body, pausing atwhere the new shirt I chose to wear as a nightgown brushes the tops of my bare thighs. He blinks and clears his throat, then turns away, his hands adjusting his pants.
Giving him the privacy to regain his composure, and for me to regain mine, I spin around, trying not to focus on the flush I feel creeping up my neck, or the emptiness left where his warmth just was. When I face him again, he’s running a hand through his tousled hair, his face set in a frown.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep. “I didn’t mean to…” He trails off, clearly uncomfortable, struggling to find the words to say.
Didn’t mean to what? Grind your hard cock against me?I want to say, want to use it to unnerve him.
Because there’s no denying it—we were in bed together, and he was aroused.
And I’d wanted him to be.
I only wish it had been me that had made him feel that way.
The knock comes again, more insistent this time, and Rylan crosses the room in a few quick strides, throwing the door open with a sharp, “What?”
He stands there, back rigid, as the interruption pulls him fully back into the awake and present, dissolving any semblance of that vulnerability we’d shared. Grellor murmurs something to him in low, urgent tones. I can’t make out the words, but I can see the immediate change in Rylan’s posture. When he turns back to me, his expression is stormy, his earlier softness vanished as if it had never existed.
He steps back into the room, his movements quick and clipped, and barks, “Get ready to go. Have some breakfast and be ready to leave in half an hour.”
The sudden harshness of his voice stings, cutting through the lingering warmth of the moment we shared. But even as hesnaps at me, I can still feel the imprint of his body from where we’d been pressed together, the way my skin had reacted to his nearness. His eyes flicker down to my lips, just for a heartbeat, but it’s enough to send a buzzing pulse through my core.
“Is something wrong? What did Grellor wan—”
He cuts me off. “Stop. We’re not going to do the questions game again. Just do what I say for once.”
He’s already storming halfway to the door again when his name slips out of my mouth. It doesn’t feel right to pretend like nothing has changed between us. “Rylan, I—” I start, but before I can say anything more, he whirls around.
“What?” he snaps, his voice steeped with irritation.
Any words I might’ve wanted to say die on my tongue, and I just gape at him.
“Well? We don’t have all day!” he shouts.
