CHAPTER 29
Aelys
Once inside our dorm, Mattheo takes out a cigarette and opens the window before sitting on the sill. He glances in my direction, pride shining in his eyes.
“My father will be delighted. Well done, angel,” he praises me, lighting his cigarette.
I thank him and sit on the edge of the bed, silently observing him for a few minutes. He's lost in thought as he stares into the distance, his head tilted back and leaning against the window frame.
Once he's finished smoking, he closes the window and runs a hand through his hair to fix it, but all he manages to do is ruffle it even more, making me giggle.
Unfortunately, laughing causes my cramps to return, and I wince slightly. I get up from the bed before grabbing another pair of menstrual panties and disappearing into the bathroom.
Once I'm finished, I head back into the bedroom. I frown when I see Mattheo holding a letter in his hands. When it burns after he finishes reading it, I let out a heavy sigh, immediately understanding what it is.
“This is crazy. You can't leave the Academy today. Not after the news of Jones's death. Dawson or O'Connor might find it suspicious if you disappeared after such an event. Their overdose theory might be called into question.”
“I can teleport from our dorm,” he sighs then enters the bathroom.
I frown when I hear him turn on the shower, his voice echoes as he continues, “But you have to stay here and definitely not go out. If anyone comes to ask you where I am, tell them I'm in the shower. Okay?”
I nod and he stands up, giving me a quick kiss, then disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.
I look around our dorm, unsure of what to do now that I'm alone. I don't feel like reading and I can't go out.
Maybe I should read the document Mattheo found on how to activate my shapeshifting side…
My gaze falls on my fiancé's pack of cigarettes and I bite my lower lip, wondering whether or not to try. He'll probably be pissed if he sees me smoking, but…
Oh, well, he's not here now, is he?
I quickly retrieve a cigarette and place it between my lips.
I light it and inhale the smoke, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling it in a thick cloud of white smoke.
This isn't my first time smoking. I've stolen cigars and cigarettes from my father a few times at home, but it wasn't that often.
I sit down on the desk chair and grab the pile of papers carelessly placed in the middle.
Mattheo has finally found a book explaining the procedure for activating my shapeshifting side in the archives of the Academy library.
However, to preserve the secret, he didn't borrow it.
He simply photocopied the most relevant passages and put the book back as if nothing had happened.
I take a drag on the cigarette and begin reading, curious and excited at the thought of finally being able to awaken the animal within me.
I jump when a few minutes later, Mattheo reappears in our room. I quickly stand up and put my hand behind my back, doing my best to hide my cigarette—the second one. I smile shyly and innocently as his eyes fall on me. His features automatically soften when he sees me.
“Hey. So, what did your father want?”
He frowns and narrows his eyes, inspecting me carefully. I swallow, knowing the cigarette is still lit, which means there's smoke in the room—more specifically, behind my back—and it smells too. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, an authoritative expression on his face.
“Are you smoking?”
“Hm, no?” I grit my teeth and hold back a grimace because it sounds more like a question than a statement.
He chuckles and in two steps, he's right in front of me, his hand disappearing behind my back and snatching the cigarette from my hand. He holds it between our faces, one eyebrow still raised and a scowl on his face. I sigh in defeat then smile softly, making myself look as innocent as possible.
“No? So what is this, darling?”
“A cigarette?” I mumble in a small voice, now avoiding his gaze.
His free hand grabs my chin and he forces me to look at him. His face softens as I pout, doing my best to coax him. He sighs and tosses the cigarette into the ashtray, then tenderly cups my face in his palms.
“I don't want you to smoke, my angel. You'll destroy your pretty lungs.”
“That's rich coming from you. You smoke!” I giggle, crossing my arms and rolling my eyes, pouting.
His eyes darken and his jaw tightens, making me swallow. My thighs clench uncontrollably, and I feel the heat spread through my body, deep inside.
“Drop the attitude or I'll put your pretty mouth to better use,” he spits.
I bite my lower lip to hold back a moan.
We can't have sex since I'm on my period, but we both know I can still please him.
And oh my god, do I want to. I love hearing him moan, grunt and whimper too much to deny him anything.
But I also know he'll never force me to do it if I tell him I don't want to.
As much as he loves being the dominant one in our relationship, he respects me just as much. He treats me like a fucking goddess all the time. Even when he becomes a jerk when he's jealous or drunk, he still respects me enough to consider my desires.
Mattheo Rigast is not a good man, it's true, but he's better than most of them.
His thumb tugs at my lip, making my teeth let it go.
His dark eyes follow it bounce, and I can see desire flooding his eyes.
His hand moves to my hair, I squeal as he suddenly grabs a handful.
Within seconds, his lips are on mine in a hungry kiss.
I moan into the kiss, and he groans in response.
His other hand grabs my ass, he squeezes it harshly, making me gasp.
“Get on your knees for me, darling,” he mumbles against my lips.
I obey and get on my knees, his huge erection facing me.
I bite my lip impatiently and look up at him through my eyelashes.
He groans and grabs my hair in his fist with a gentle grip.
I quickly unbutton his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, exposing his hard cock.
I meet his gaze again and he clenches his jaw.
“Now suck, my pretty little slut,” he spits in a dominant tone.
I lick my lips before licking his head, making him let out a small moan.
“Don't fucking play,” he growls in a low voice.
My thighs clench and I moan softly at his words. I mentally curse my fucking period for coming this morning.
I quickly wrap my lips around his cock and begin to slowly move my head back and forth, taking more of him into my mouth each time.
A low moan escapes his throat and I groan, sending vibrations against his cock, making him moan again.
His grip on my hair tightens and he begins to move my head in time with his own rhythm, hitting the back of my throat.
“I told you. Not. To. Play. Slut,” he growls.
I place my hands on his thighs to steady myself as I let him fuck my mouth, moaning softly every time he groans or grunts in pleasure. Drool starts to run down my chin and my cheeks are tear-stained, but I love every second of it. I love pleasing him.
“Fuck. Just like that, darling,” he moans, picking up the pace.
I feel him twitch in my mouth and he goes even faster, moaning louder with each movement. I hollow my cheeks and he squeals.
“Oh, fuck, princess!” He gasps. “I- Fuck. I'm going to come, angel.”
I look up at him through my lashes, meeting his lustful gaze, that's all it takes for him to spill his hot cum down my throat. I ride him to the end of his orgasm and swallow every drop, my eyes still locked on his.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Such a good little slut for me.” He gasps, his thumb stroking my lips, collecting some of his precum that has leaked from my mouth before placing his thumb between my lips for me to suck on.
His breath hitches before he removes his thumb and tenderly wipes my tear-stained cheeks. He pulls his boxers and pants back on and helps me stand. He kisses me softly, slides an arm under my knees and lifts me into his arms, letting me wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me to the bed.
We lie down, pressed against each other, one of his hands in my hair, lovingly playing with my brown tresses as my head rests on his chest. I inhale, savoring his familiar scent, feeling instantly at home with his body pressed against mine.
“Are you going to tell me how it went with your father now?” I ask softly, my voice slightly hoarse.
He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “Stevens sent him a letter telling him about Jones's death and how affected Dawson seems. He wanted me to confirm that you were indeed behind his death. As I thought, he's delighted and proud of you. Just like I am, angel.”
I blush slightly, brushing the compliment off with a wave of my hand. He chuckles and places his hand on my lower abdomen, massaging it tenderly.
“Do you still have cramps, my love?”
I nod again and yawn softly. He hugs me tighter and kisses the top of my head.
“Sleep if you want, angel. Forget everything and let me take care of you. You're safe,” he mumbles.
“I know, Matt. I love you,” I whisper as I feel sleep creeping over me.
“I love you too, princess.”