Chapter 23
Iwoke slowly, tangled in a haze of sleep and leftover pleasure, my body deliciously heavy against cool sheets.
The heat and gentle breathing from the man at my back.
For a moment, I just lingered there, drifting, letting the gentle ache between my thighs remind me that last night, everything that happened with Ryder, hadn’t been some fevered, dangerous dream.
Then a hand slid beneath the covers, rough palm hot against my bare thigh and then, oh god, his fingers slipped between my folds, already slick and sensitive, and I gasped, every nerve suddenly awake.
“Morning, Poison.” Ryder’s voice was soft, silky, and so close to my ear I shivered.
His breath tickled my hair as he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his other hand began palming my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers, causing a shudder of excitement to rush through me, and a moan to escape my mouth.
“You even sound pretty when you do that,” he murmured against my neck as he kissed down it and along my shoulder.
I wanted to scowl at him, to push his hand away and demand he give me five minutes of peace.
But as his fingers began to work inside me, slow and sure, and all protest died on my lips and heat began to rise in my body.
I was already wet, embarrassingly so, and he could feel it.
He curled his fingers just right, as if he’d always known how to find that spot.
He seemed to know my body so well that I wondered how much he had learned while I had been asleep.
Had I moaned for him on the nights he had drugged me, had he done more than what he was telling me?
I wanted to doubt his words, but my body was quickly taking over and my brain was getting fuzzy with each delicious movement of his fingers inside me.
His mouth was hot at my neck, nipping, kissing, his thumb circling my clit in lazy, deliberate little strokes.
“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, and I whimpered, arching into his touch just as he slid down the bed.
I should have been embarrassed, should have tried to cover myself or told him to stop, but I was too far gone already.
Too desperate. Too sore and needy after everything he’d put me through last night.
After all those weeks of denial. Ryder didn’t make me wait.
His tongue was hot, his stubble rough against my thighs as he licked me like he’d been starving for it.
My hips bucked; he held me down easily, murmuring filth into my skin as he worked me over with his mouth and fingers together.
It wasn’t long before I came fast, shaking apart, biting my wrist to keep from screaming.
My entire body, loose and boneless, collapsed back against the mattress, and for a second I just lay there, eyes squeezed shut, panting.
I could probably get used to being woken like this.
I was waiting for him to push for more, to take what he wanted now that I was soft and open and pliant. But Ryder just kissed my inner thigh, almost sweet, and shifted up to lie beside me.
“Want to shower with me?” he asked, voice quietly hopeful, his hand tracing lazy circles on my stomach. I hesitated, half expecting him to take it as a challenge or get possessive, maybe insist. But instead, Ryder just smiled, a real, good-natured one that made him look younger, softer somehow.
“It’s okay,” he said gently, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You can have your space. I’ll see you downstairs.” He pressed a final kiss to my forehead and slipped out, closing the door behind him.
I lay there for a long moment, stunned. After everything, after the weeks of manipulation and the possessive games, after last night, I’d expected him to be clingy, demanding, territorial.
But he’d just let me be. My chest constricted in confusion, caught between nervous relief and a strange, fluttering ache.
I padded to the bathroom on unsteady legs, turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray once it had warmed, letting it beat down on my skin.
I scrubbed myself clean, half hoping the water would wash away last night’s confusion and my tangled, traitorous desire along with the mess Ryder had left all over me.
I was covered in marks along my breasts and my neck, and the soreness between my legs, not a bad sore, but the type of sore where you know you’ve had a good time and it’s a souvenir.
Well, just feeling it as I washed my body sent a flutter through my body straight to my pussy.
Geez Cade, I thought to myself, horny much?
I swear I knew it had been a few weeks, but I was starting to feel like I was addicted or something.
But just the memory of the way he’d looked at me in the dark, the way his hands had held me so tightly, the raw hunger and, god, was it tenderness?
, in his eyes. What had I done? What did it mean, to want him, even now?
I tried not to think about the implications as I got out of the shower.
I didn’t want to know what this meant now.
By all accounts I had given the Regents, or one one of them at least, exactly what they wanted.
The contract was clear; once permission was given, then that rule no longer applied.
Or at least not for Ryder. But what about Cole, and Logan?
What would they be like now that I had let Ryder in?
I towelled off, pulled on jeans and a faded purple tee, and made my way downstairs, determined to put all confusing feelings into a box.
The dining room was almost empty, except for one of the first year housemen.
He said good morning and told me the Regents were in the kitchen this morning.
The kitchen was bright and warm when I walked in, sunlight spilling in across the tile, the smell of frying bacon thick in the air.
For a bewildered moment, I almost thought I’d walked into the wrong house, or passed into some alternate timeline where Covenant House was a normal household.
Logan was at the stove, spatula in hand, his muscular frame outlined by the pale morning light.
He was flipping pancakes with an ease that looked so at odds with his usual icy, commanding presence that I stared, momentarily at a loss.
Cole was already at the breakfast bar, grinning, his messy hair still damp from a shower.
He stood as I entered, pulling out the stool beside him with an exaggerated flourish.
“For m’lady,” he said, winking, and I rolled my eyes, but a small, surprised smile tugged at my lips.
Ryder was there too, leaning back against the counter in nothing but sweats and a faded tee, his hair still mussed from bed and his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.
He looked… content. Not smug and not predatory, just happy.
“Morning, beautiful,” Ryder called, voice lazy and warm.
“Hope you’re hungry.” I hesitated, scanning their faces for some hint of the lurking threat, for the razor beneath the velvet.
But for once, I saw nothing but open friendliness.
Even Logan, who usually radiated tension, glanced over his shoulder and gave me a brief, crooked smile.
“She should be after last night,” Cole said with another wink, and I looked at him, my face flushing red. I then glared at Ryder.
“You told them.” Ryder laughed and held up his hand in surrender before shoving a slice of toast into his mouth.
“Oh Pet,” Cole said with a grin, “Ryder didn’t have to tell us anything.
You were pretty vocal about it last night all by yourself.
” Oh fucking hell, I needed a hole to swallow me up right there and then.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that they could have heard me.
“Sit,” Cole urged, pushing the stool closer until my knees bumped it.
I sat on the stool, my face flushed redder than a tomato as Ryder laughed again.
“What can I say, I know how to pleasure a woman,” he said with his mouth full of food. I dropped my head into my hands, hiding my face.
“Fucking kill me now,” I muttered to myself. Cole nudged my arm playfully, and I looked up at him as he smiled at me.
“Breakfast is almost ready. Logan’s making pancakes. Ryder tried to help, but he burns everything.” Logan shot Cole a look, but his mouth quirked at the corner.
“Ignore them. Do you want syrup or just butter?” I blinked.
“Uh… syrup, I guess?” My voice came out uncertain, but no one mocked me for it. Instead, Logan slid a plate in front of me, careful to keep the pancakes warm, and Ryder reached over to set a mug of coffee, just the way I liked it, beside my elbow. It was normal. Bizarrely, terrifyingly normal.
Conversation drifted between them as I picked at my food, something about an upcoming game Ryder wanted to play, Coler’s offhand complaints about gym schedules, Logan’s dry commentary about professors.
I found myself lulled into their rhythm, relaxing a little with every minute.
Cole nudged my arm, the edge of his mouth lifting.
“You’re going to need more tutoring, by the way.
We’re behind. After classes today, I’ll grab you in the library, okay?
” I nodded, and for once it didn’t feel like a command.
It felt like he was trying, even if the line between obligation and genuine care was razor thin.
For a fleeting, unguarded instant, I wondered if this was what life was like for Megan and her Regents.
If this was what it felt like to belong here, to be cherished instead of used, to be a part of something instead of constantly trying to escape.
Was I just being difficult? Was this normal, and I just didn’t know how to let myself have it?
The question simmered in me like a secret, dangerous hope.
Logan clapped his hands together, breaking my deep thoughts.