He stiffened; a strangled sound echoed in his chest.
Skimming my fingers up his spine again, I cupped his nape.
He convulsed.
His thick, damp hair rested over my knuckles as I whispered, “It’s okay.”
Lowering my hands again, I followed the contours and tightness of his back. My thumbs traced slow circles along his spine, kneading out the knots I found.
He shuddered and collapsed completely on top of me, his legs settling between my spread ones, his chest to my chest, and that awful hard disc like a large icy medallion against my breast.
“You’re alright,” I whispered, not sure I was doing the right thing but unable to stop.
He shuddered again, but the violent jerks from before began to ebb. His breath slipped into rhythm instead of chaos, hot and heavy against my collarbone. His furnace heat slowly faded as if being this close to me truly did help calm him down.
I lost track of how long we lay like that.
I didn’t stop to think how it would look to others or what it would mean when we broke apart.
I just kept stroking him.
Whisper yawned and lay down beside the bed, his glowing eyes never looking away.
No matter my friendship with the huge cat, I had no doubt he’d bite my hands off if I injured his master.
Lucien shifted a little, pressing all of himself against all of me.
I stiffened as I became highly aware of all the places where we were joined.
A low, rough sound left him, heavy with relief. His arms unbanded around me, letting my back rest far more comfortably on the bed. One of his hands slid up my side, his fingers splaying over my ribs.
He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding against mine. When he exhaled, it wasn’t a broken gasp but a long, shaky sigh. His body softened, melting against me until he was heavy instead of tense, calm instead of burning.
I closed my eyes as his fingers strayed to my waist. His heart still thundered, but the jagged edge finally smoothed. The medical scent of his fever began to fade, replaced by the faint, bitter flavour of blood.
Tilting his head, his lips moved against my throat—not a kiss, just a slow exhale as his hand slipped from my waist and pressed against the mattress.
I expected him to push upright. To break our overwhelming embrace. But...
His breath ghosted over my throat again, slower this time. Hotter.
The world shrank to the weight of him above me, the burning closeness, the tension that cut sharper than a knife.
In a single breath, he made me ache and ache and ache.
I couldn’t move.
Didn’t want to break the spell or face the repercussions.
His head lifted, skimming his nose along my neck, my jaw...
The air between us throbbed.
The silver disc over his heart pressed against me with warning.
He shifted closer, his hips sinking deeper between my legs as his mouth hovered over mine.
My eyes popped wide, trying to see if he knew what he was doing, knew how close he was to—
Our lips brushed.
He.
Froze.
His eyes flew wide and whatever trance he’d been in shattered. He jerked off me so violently, the silver metal on his chest flared with a red light beneath his shirt.
Snarling, he crashed onto his back beside me, grunting in pain.
And I did what any crazy, almost-kissed captive would do.
I rolled over and burrowed my face into his damp, hot neck. I hugged him as if I could protect him. And incredibly, he didn’t fling me off.
His hand that clutched his heart clutched my arm that I threw over his chest instead. His fingers bruised me as he held on, but just like before...he slowly calmed as if I did have the power to help. As if my presence affected him, just like his presence affected me.
Whisper snorted and paced the edge of the bed, grumbling with worry.
Not daring to move, I whispered, “It’s okay, Whisper. He’s okay.”
With a soft chuff, the cat accepted my assurance, yawned, and flopped down.
Stillness crept over us. Silence eased into the cracks. But Lucien didn’t move which meant I didn’t move.
I lost track of time before Lucien finally exhaled and tapped my arm to release him.
Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling.
Would he kill me for this?
Would he scold me, strike me—
Wordlessly, he pulled up the blankets that I’d shoved to the bottom of the bed and dragged them over both of us.
We lay there, side by side, not saying a damn thing.
I stayed rigid, heart hammering, staring at shadows.
Why wasn’t he going?
He couldn’t mean to stay here, could he?
“Eh...” I cleared my throat. “Are you not leaving?”
Turning his head, his eyes met mine, etched with weariness.
My heart fluttered and that ache between my legs grew a thousand times worse. Pain daggered my temple as I drowned in his stare—in his wariness and rage, the gratitude and distrust.
“It’s a long walk back to my quarters.” He cleared his throat as if that was a lie. Tearing his gaze from mine, he stared at the same shadows I did. “I’m tired.”
I didn’t speak and silence gathered tighter around us.
The longer we lay side by side, the more we slipped over whatever line had been drawn.
My heart raced faster. My skin prickled. And that damn pressure between my legs made me jumpy and needy and—
“I didn’t mean to come.” His voice was thick with accusation as if it was my fault. “I should stay the hell away from you but...” He swallowed hard. “Somehow, I’m here.”
My heart flung itself against my ribs.
Silence fell again before I murmured, “Did you come because I can somehow ease you?” My cheeks burned at the preposterousness of that. At the inexplicable explanation that something was going on, even as we fought against it.
He growled quietly as if his temper couldn’t be contained. “Yes.”
He scowled at the shadows. “I don’t understand why each time you ask me a question, I’m compelled to answer it.”
“Really?” I rolled onto my side, tucking my hands under the pillow and gazing at him. “You’re compelled?”
Lingering droplets of sweat slowly dried by his hairline, long strands of blue-black rested over his forehead. He didn’t turn to look at me, but he nodded stiffly. “I seem to want to talk to you.” He laughed coldly. “Which is ridiculous.”
“How is it ridiculous?”
“The more I tell you, the more you can use against me.”
“Pretty sure I know quite a few of your secrets these days. What’s one more?”
His eyes snapped to mine. “Is that a threat?”
I swallowed, still rationally afraid of what he could do to me.
But then I forced myself to relax because...if he hadn’t killed me by now. If he hadn’t stopped whatever this was, maybe he was as helpless as me.
“Just a fact.” I held his stare, adding quietly, “Besides, you know more about me than you think too.”
His eyes narrowed on mine before looking away again.
Sudden anxiousness made me blurt, “You don’t have to guard against me, you know. I won’t share—”
“If you know so much about me, why don’t you tell the others?” He went deathly still. “What’s stopping you from telling all those women my weaknesses?”
“Simple.” I shrugged. “They’re not my secrets to tell.”
His eyes shot to mine again.
“And no matter what you think of me,” I added. “I’m not here to hurt or betray you.”