TWENTY-FIVE #3
But—fuck.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Thane’s chest rumbles with quiet amusement. “You’re trying too hard.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“Then teach me.”
He rolls smoothly, shifting me beneath him in one effortless motion.
Gods!
I can barely hold onto a coherent thought right now, let alone learn how to block them.
“I heard that,” he says with a wicked smile.
My face turns the color of the dress I wore last night as I cover it with both hands.
Thane laughs again, the sound deep and entirely too satisfied. “Do you want a lesson now?”
His voice is mockingly innocent, though the mirth in his eyes gives him away completely. Then, just as easily, he rolls onto his side beside me, propping his head against one hand as he studies me.
“Yes!” I say immediately, because if I don’t learn how to do this, I’m never going to survive the rest of the day.
“Alright,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “Close your eyes. Breathe.”
I obey, though concentrating becomes significantly harder when he’s touching me like that.
“Now,” Thane continues, his voice lower and softer. “Feel the bond.”
He places a warm palm over my heart, the pressure light but impossible to ignore.
“The connection,” he murmurs. “Instead of pulling away from it, visualize sealing it off. Like closing a door.”
I focus immediately. I picture a door between us. Heavy. Solid. Impossible to force open. Slowly, carefully, I push it shut.
“Close your mind,” Thane says quietly.
“I’m trying,” I snap, more flustered than angry.
Gods, he’s too close.
Even without hearing his thoughts, I can still feel the shape of his presence brushing against my mind, waiting at the edges of the bond. Every time I almost manage to shut him out completely, I feel him there again, teasing. Testing. Entirely too entertained by all of this.
“You’re thinking too loudly again,” he murmurs against my skin.
I groan, shoving at his chest. “You’re not helping.”
Thane laughs, low and husky, completely unbothered. “No, you’re just overthinking it.”
I roll my eyes. “Then explain it better.”
Thane moves before I can react, flipping us effortlessly until I’m suddenly straddling him.
Gods. I can feel everything.
For one brief moment, Thane closes his eyes and inhales intentionally, deeply, as though forcing himself to regain control. By the time he exhales, the restraint is back in place.
Controlled.
Hard.
Dangerous.
I inhale sharply. “Um . . . what are you doing?” I ask, my voice embarrassingly uneven.
Thane’s hands slide over my thighs.
“Teaching you.” His voice is far too smooth, far too calm for this to be considered a reasonable lesson.
But this is absolutely a problem. Because I can feel him inside me, making it nearly impossible to hold onto a single coherent thought. I was already struggling through this lesson before. Now I don’t stand a chance.
I swallow, shifting slightly—and immediately regret it as I feel him throb between my legs. Thane’s fingers flex against my thighs. His storm-gray eyes darken further.
My entire body goes still.
“This isn’t helping,” I mutter, my eyes squeezing shut for a moment.
One corner of his mouth lifts. “It’s working perfectly fine for me.”
I glare at him. “You’re an ass.”
“And yet,” he says smoothly, “you’re still sitting on me.”
I groan, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to block out every single way my body is currently betraying me.
“Do you want to learn or not, Amara, darling?”
Gods. When he says my name like that, decadent and unhurried, warmth ripples through me instantly.
I snap my eyes open, glaring at him. “Not like this.”
Thane tilts his head, watching me with a lazy, teasing smirk. “Why?” he asks smoothly. “Is this distracting you?”
I want to kill him.
I also want to devour him.
It’s a deeply unfortunate combination.
“Close your eyes,” Thane instructs.
I hesitate.
Because I already know what will happen when I do. When I can’t see him. When I can’t focus on the infuriating smugness written all over his face. When all I can feel is him beneath me.
Thane’s grip tightens slightly against my thighs, his voice dropping lower.
“This is the point, Amara.”
My eyes fly open again.
“What?”
“I could have taught you this in a dozen different ways,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroking teasing circles against my bare thighs. “But this?”
His gaze drops briefly, lingering where we’re still joined before traveling upward again. Over the gentle curve of my stomach. The hard peaks of my nipples. Over the column of my throat. The frantic pulse fluttering at my throat.
Finally, his eyes lift to mine. Glazed. Heated. Completely focused on me.
“This forces you to focus.”
I arch a brow. “You’re getting a lot out of this ‘lesson.’”
“Shouldn’t I be paid for my work? I think it’s only fair,” he replies, all false innocence.
A shiver rolls down my spine. He’s doing this on purpose. Setting me up to fail so I’m forced to fight through the distraction. Because if I can learn to block him out like this—
“Then you can do it anywhere,” Thane murmurs smoothly. His mouth curves with smug satisfaction. “And yes, I heard that too. Focus.”
Gods.
He looks completely composed. Like this is effortless for him. Like he isn’t affected at all.
But I know better.
I see it in the flicker of heat beneath his restraint. The slight tightening of his fingers against my skin before he forces them to relax again.
A tiny fracture in his control, then gone almost immediately. Meanwhile, I am barely holding myself together.
“You’re trying too hard,” Thane murmurs.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I bite out, trying to sound annoyed, though my voice comes out embarrassingly breathless. “It’s a little difficult to concentrate when I’m sitting on your—”
“Block, Amara, darling,” he interrupts smoothly.
Completely composed. Completely unfair.
“You keep picturing something rigid—”
“I mean, can you blame me?” I cut in, gesturing downward in disbelief at the accidental phrasing.
“Something you can force shut,” he continues without missing a beat. “But that’s not how this works.”
I gape at him, genuinely stunned by the level of restraint this man somehow still possesses. There is no way this is normal.
“Then what is it?” I inhale sharply, trying to breathe through the heat twisting through me.
“It isn’t a wall,” he says patiently. “And it isn’t a literal door. It has to be something that belongs to you. Something instinctive.”
His gaze drifts briefly toward the fire in the hearth.
“For me, it’s fire.”
I frown, trying to focus on his words instead of the distraction currently sitting beneath me.
“I don’t understand.”
I frown, trying to grasp what he means while feeling thoroughly distracted by the heat between my legs. “I don’t understand.”
Thane tilts his head slightly, watching me carefully. Considering.
Then—
“What’s the first thing you think of when you think of safety?”
The question catches me off guard.
“Safety?” I echo.
“Yes.”
He isn’t pressing against my mind this time. He’s simply there, waiting. Listening. Letting me find the answer on my own.
My breath catches softly. Because I do know.
“The wind,” I whisper.
Thane says nothing. He only watches me. I close my eyes, letting myself sink fully into the feeling.
The wind.
It is freedom. It is strength. It is what surrounds me when I fly beside Calryx. The force that carries me forward, lifts me, steadies me when everything else is falling apart.
The wind is not a door that can be forced shut.
It is movement.
A current. A shift. A change in direction.
It bends. Twists. Reshapes itself.
But it never disappears.
I breathe into the feeling, sensing the wind move through me and around me until currents of air begin to coil tightly within my mind.
And just like that, the connection between Thane and me disappears.
He exhales softly.
I open my eyes.
Pride flickers briefly through his smoke-gray gaze.