Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Gideon
She’d asked to shower after I did. I would’ve asked her to shower with me, but that might’ve pushed her too far too quickly. She’d finally let me in. Dafni didn’t trust easily, and I wasn’t about to ruin what trust we’d built between us by moving too fast.
I listened to the water flow off her body and hit the shower floor.
I wanted to go in there, to help her, rub soap on her slippery body, rinse the sand from her curls.
But I stayed back, sitting on my bed, the white undershirt I wore clinging to my still-damp skin—the briefs I’d put on to make Dafni more comfortable also sticking to my skin.
The muscles in my arms and back had felt tender beneath the flow of water from the shower head.
I’d worked them today—maybe for the first time ever, digging and pulling witches from the sand.
I never imagined that it would’ve felt good to work—to help the witches here.
I hated to think of it now, but I would’ve never thought to help the witches if it hadn’t been for Dafni.
It wasn’t the way the Coven or the Academy worked.
If a witch faltered or got hurt, it was because they were weak—unpowerful—not worth the Coven’s time.
Those ideas had been drilled into my head since I was young, and I’d never questioned anything I’d been taught.
I’d kept to myself—maybe for self-preservation, or maybe because it’d seemed too daunting to challenge the Academy or the Coven.
This was the most interaction I’d had with witches in years, and I wasn’t proud to say that I was unaccustomed to helping.
I’d watched each buried witch’s face relax in relief when we’d kneeled near them, like they’d been worried we’d skip them or decide it just wasn’t worth our effort to save them.
Like me, that was what they’d been accustomed to, maybe even why they hadn’t yelled for help after the evaluation was over.
My entire life I’d thought I was trapped down here…but those witches stuck in the sand had been literally trapped—and would’ve stayed trapped if it hadn’t been for Dafni. She wasn’t afraid to question the Academy and challenge the Coven’s practices.
For the first time, I’d seen things down here differently—through Dafni’s eyes.
There’d been a determination in her that I’d never seen before.
I’d watched the sweat form on her temples as she dug in the sand and pulled each witch out.
She’d dug down deep, grasping for every witch who had been trapped, taking the time to make sure they were okay before she let them go.
Only one of them had thanked her—but that hadn’t mattered to Dafni.
To her, every witch deserved her time and effort.
The shower turned off, and I heard the final splash of water hit the drain as she wrung out her hair.
A freckled nose poked out from where the door opened, just far enough for her to look around the room before she exited the bathroom.
Water droplets clung to the ends of her curls, and her skin glistened from scrubbing.
She used both hands to hold up the towel she had wrapped around her chest. The bottom of the towel brushed the top of her knees—those cute little freckled circles in the middle of her legs.
She stood there with them pressed together.
All of me wondered what it’d look like to see her spread them apart.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Dafni asked.
I looked down at the white shirt and black briefs I had on. “Should I get back into my uniform?”
“No…I mean…” Dafni bit her bottom lip still staring at me. She cleared her throat. “You said you have my uniform?”
“Sure do.” I stood, walking to where I’d folded the clothes on my desk.
I handed them to her, and she carefully continued holding up the towel with her elbows while she pulled the white button-up shirt from the pile.
She held it up by the collar against her body, the bottom hem only reaching her hips.
“Can I borrow one of yours?”
I pulled at the shoulder of the shirt I was wearing. She nodded. I looked up and down her toweled body.
“Are you sure you want one? You could just drop the towel and hop under the covers.”
“Gideon…” She sounded a mixture of annoyed and amused.
I could work with that. My tongue brushed against my lips.
Naked was preferred when it came to Dafni, but I couldn’t wait to get a good look at her in one of my white see-through shirts.
She’d run away so quickly the last time she’d had one on, I’d never got to appreciate it.
I tossed her a shirt from my closet, and she disappeared into the bathroom to change. When she emerged, my breath caught. The simple white shirt hid almost nothing. In contrast to her pale skin, her darker nipples showed through the fabric. I watched as my gaze made them pinch into tight buds.
Dafni was in front of me, practically naked, and that wasn’t the most attractive thing about her.
She was powerful—not only with her magic, but with her fearlessness.
Seeing her before me brought up all those feelings I’d felt while she’d been in the shower.
Dafni listened to herself, believed in herself, unlike the rest of the witches who followed each other blindly.
Everyone here grouped together and moved like a school of fish. She was an outlier, just like me.
The shirt fell to her shins but caught loosely on her hip, accentuating the curve of her waist. I couldn’t think of anything else as I walked over to where she stood. All I could feel was the blood pulsing down to my cock. I needed to be closer, touching, smelling, inhaling Dafni.
“Gideon…I…”
Our bodies were close—another inch, and we’d be touching. Just a dip of my head and our lips would brush.
I slipped my hand along the back of her shoulders beneath her wet hair.
Her green eyes shot up to mine. They were wide, her stare unblinking.
I watched her face as I brought my hand up, wrapping my fingers along the back of her neck.
Her lips parted and her eyes closed as her body shuddered beneath my palm.
“Dafni…” I whispered.
Her eyes popped open.
“Can I kiss you?”
I felt the vibration of the word yes through my fingers on the back of her neck and immediately slammed my lips onto hers. Our kiss reminded me of the first time our lips had touched in the closet. It’d been just as wild and uninhibited as this one.
Her hands tentatively creeped up my chest, pulling back for a moment when I moaned at the contact.
She got braver as our lips continued to touch—her hands wrapping around the back of my neck, using the leverage to pull herself up against my body.
I opened my lips, my tongue sweeping against her closed ones.
Dafni pulled her face back, her arms still wrapped around my neck.
She blinked at me several times, her eyes darting between mine and my lips.
“We should stop,” she said.
“We can if you want,” I replied.
Our breathing was rapid, our chests touching with each inhale.
She let go of my neck slowly, her hands sliding down my shoulders and chest. Dafni pulled them back toward herself once they got low enough for her fingers to get caught on the waistband of my briefs.
Her face turned that beautiful shade of red that matched her hair, and I held back a chuckle. She’s so cute when she’s flustered.
Dafni turned away and walked around me before climbing into my bed. I turned a little too late, only catching the back of her bare thighs for a moment before she slipped beneath the covers.
Climbing in next to her, I pulled the covers up over my stomach.
I closed my eyes for a moment before I turned my head and looked over at Dafni.
I stared at her. She had her eyes closed, though I could see her eyes moving beneath her lids.
Her nostrils flared occasionally. The rest of her body didn’t stay still either.
I could feel her moving through the mattress we shared.
On the outside, Dafni might’ve appeared calm and collected as she lay beneath the covers with her arms straight at her sides on top of the blanket.
But beneath the surface, I knew she was a wreck, her pulse wild, her thighs rubbing back and forth to try to quell the throb of blood flowing between them.
I knew what it felt like—the throbbing with each heartbeat as blood collected and pounded between your legs. My cock was hard and pulsing beneath the briefs I wore.
She was here in my bed, rubbing her legs together, shifting around on the mattress. I knew what the matter was—I knew why she couldn’t sleep. And I knew how to fix it. If she gave me five—no, ten minutes, we’d both be sleeping like babies.
“Dafni?”
Her body stopped moving.
“I know you aren’t sleeping.”
She sighed, turning over to face me, her curly hair spilling over the pillow like a mane, then pressed her face into the pillow. “I can’t sleep.”
“You’re wound up, kitten.”
Dafni raised her head from the pillow, her curls framing her face. “Sorry—am I moving too much?”
“No, you’re just not moving in the right part of the bed.”
She squealed as I tugged on the bottom of the too large shirt she’d insisted on wearing to bed and brought her close to me, all of her curves sinking into my body.
I pulled up Dafni’s shirt, my hand snaking up her smooth torso and to the swell of the underside of her breast. I brushed my fingers against the soft skin, pressing my nose into her temple.
“You want this?” I whispered into her skin.
The pause felt like an eternity before she softly whispered, “Yes.”
I brought my cupped hand along her sternum, letting gravity spill her breast into my awaiting hand. Her soft warmth hit my palm, and I waited a few seconds to appreciate the weight before I squeezed her soft yet firm breast.
Her nipple was piercing my skin, so pointed, I almost feigned an abrasion. “Ouch, kitten, you poked me.”