Page 40 of Heartflame

We lay like that for a while, his breathing gradually evening out as exhaustion caught up with him. I knew I should probably let him sleep, should probably get him some water or something, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. Being here with him like this felt too right.

Eventually, his breathing deepened, and his body went completely slack against mine. I carefully shifted us so we were lying more comfortably, keeping him pressed against my chest. My hand rested on his chest, right over his heart, and I could feel it beating steadily beneath my palm.

One week, I reminded myself. I had one week to make him understand that this wasn’t temporary. That he wasn’t just some conquest or possession. That he was everything to me.

And I was going to make damn sure he knew it.

Chapter 17

Quill

My plan had been to get through the week without letting Aeron get any closer to me. I’d keep him at arm’s length just to appease him, to make him think that I’d given him a chance. And then, with a shrug, let him go.

And I’d lasted… what? Five hours before I was riding his cock? So much for perseverance.

I woke up the next morning tangled in Aeron’s arms, his chest pressed against my back, his breathing deep and even against the nape of my neck. For a moment, I just lay there, trying to process what had happened. What I’d let happen. What I’d actively participated in with enthusiasm.

The soreness between my legs was a constant reminder. Not painful exactly, but present. Insistent. Every time I shifted even slightly, I was hyperaware of the fact that Aeron had been inside me, that I’d let him stretch me out, that I’d wanted him to more than anything.

Goddammit.

His arm tightened around my waist, and I realized he was waking up. I felt him press a kiss to my shoulder, soft and almost reverent, and my stomach did that stupid flippy thing it kept doing whenever he was near.

“Morning, Red,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I made a terrible mistake,” I said, but there was no heat in it. How could there be?

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. “Liar. You loved every second of it.”

“That’s not the point,” I said, trying to untangle myself from him. “The point is that I have a week to figure out if this is something I actually want, and I’ve already compromised my objectivity by⁠—”

“By what?” he interrupted, pulling me back against him. “By admitting that you want me? By letting yourself have a good time for once?”

“By losing my mind,” I shot back. “Which is apparently what happens when you get me alone in a dark room, since it’s happened twice now.”

He laughed again, and I hated that the sound made me want to smile. “I’m not complaining. Are you complaining?”

“Yes,” I said. “Vehemently.”

“Then why are you still in my bed?”

That was a good question. One I didn’t have a good answer for. The logical thing would be to get up, get dressed, and put some distance between us. The logical thing would be to remember that I was supposed to be observing him, that Professor Blackwood was counting on me to figure out a facet of what was going on at Widdershins Academy.

But logic seemed to have taken a vacation the moment Aeron kissed me outside my dorm.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I should go. Lysander will be looking for me.”

“Let him look then,” Aeron said, and there was that possessive edge creeping back into his voice. “You’re staying here.”

“I’m not your prisoner,” I said, though I didn’t move.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re my—” He stopped himself, seeming to catch whatever he’d been about to say. “You’re my priority though. And right now, my priority is making sure you get cleaned up and get some breakfast.”

There was something in the way he said it that made my stomach twist. Like he meant it. Like I actually mattered to him beyond the physical attraction. And that was somehow more terrifying than the possessiveness.

“I need to use your bathroom then,” I said, pulling away before he could say anything else that would make me want to stay. “And don’t follow me.”

He let me go, thankfully, though I could feel his eyes on me as I grabbed his shirt to cover myself and padded toward the bathroom. My legs felt a little unsteady, and I was acutely aware of every sore muscle. It was a good reminder of exactly what I’d done last night.