33. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CONNOR
Theo hums sleepily against the back of my neck, and the sound does something stupid to my chest.
It’s soft. Content. The kind of sound I've never heard from him before.
His lips brush over my nape in slow, lingering kisses, warm from sleep, while his hand spreads over my stomach and pulls me closer.
My breath hitching at how easily he fits behind me.
His chest against my back, legs tangling with mine beneath the covers, his arm heavy around my waist. Like waking up wrapped around each other is something we’ve done a hundred times instead of something I probably shouldn’t be letting myself get used to.
Theo presses another kiss beneath my ear, and I tilt my head back into it, searching for his mouth, and he meets me halfway.
The kiss starts slow.
Lazy.
His lips barely moving against mine, both of us still half asleep, and I shift in his arms until I can reach him properly, my tongue brushing over the cool metal of his piercing.
Theo makes a quiet sound into my mouth.
The kiss deepens, his hand tightening over my stomach as I turn further into him, our legs knotting together beneath the covers. Bare skin slides against bare skin, his body hot everywhere it presses into mine, and suddenly there’s nothing sleepy about the way I’m kissing him.
“I should probably get up,” I murmur against his mouth.
Theo's teeth catch my bottom lip before I can pull away, tugging it gently between them, and a quiet sound sticks in my throat when his tongue sweeps over the sting.
“In a minute,” he hums, the words vibrating against my mouth, my lashes fluttering shut.
Because apparently that’s a reasonable compromise when his hands are already sliding down my sides.
They settle on my hips, fingers curling around them before he drags me flush against him, and I go without resistance.
My hands find his waist, holding on as his body presses harder into mine. I can feel every part of him like this, the solid warmth of his chest, the shift of muscle beneath my palms, the lazy roll of his hips that makes my breath catch.
“Want you,” Theo groans into my mouth.
His hips rock again and the hard line of his cock drags against mine.
I hiss into the kiss, my own hips jerking forward, chasing the friction. Heat sparks low in my stomach, spreading fast, and I forget entirely why getting out of bed seemed important.
“Theo.”
I force myself to pull back, but I don’t go far.
My forehead drops against his, our noses brushing as I squeeze my eyes shut and try to find something resembling common sense while he’s still holding me against him.
“Everyone’s gonna be waking up now.”
Theo grins.
I can feel the thing before I even open my eyes.
When I do, he’s looking at me like I’ve just said the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.
Then his arm tightens around me.
“Theo—”
The room tilts.
He rolls us in one smooth movement, my back hitting the mattress, sheets tangling around my legs as Theo settles between them.
I stare up at him.
His hair is completely fucked from sleep, dark strands falling over his forehead and into his eyes.
His lips are swollen from kissing me, piercing catching faintly when he drags his tongue over it, and he’s braced above me on both arms, caging me beneath him with absolutely no intention of letting me up.
“Live a little,” he says with a shrug.
Like he’s not naked between my legs, his body pressing into mine.
I roll my eyes, but there’s nothing behind it.
There can’t be when my hand is already sliding up his back, fingers curling around the nape of his neck.
Theo’s grin barely has time to widen before I drag him down, our mouths crashing together.
Fuck getting up.
I kiss him harder, swallowing the quiet laugh that escapes him, and Theo gives it back to me, his mouth opening beneath mine as my fingers knot in his hair.
One kiss turns into another.
Then another.
Rushed now. Hungry.
Nothing like the slow, sleepy kisses we woke up with.
Theo’s body lowers over mine and I groan into his mouth, the sound trapped between us as heat tears through me all over again.
This is making the problem so much worse.
I know that, and still I kiss him again.
My other hand finds his waist, tugging him closer, and for a few seconds I let myself forget that we’re in a house full of people. That Marcus could wake up. That eventually I’m going to have to get out of this bed and work out what the fuck I’m doing.
Then Theo shifts against me and another groan tears out of my throat.
I pull away, my head falling back against the pillow, chest rising too fast as I drag air into lungs that don’t seem capable of holding enough of it.
Theo doesn’t move far, his breath hot against my mouth, his body still between my legs and his hands on me.
And somehow I’m supposed to get out of this bed.
My fingers slide into Theo’s hair, pushing the dark strands back out of his eyes, but I don’t take my hand away.
Instead, my fingers stay buried there, combing slowly through the mess we made of it, and Theo watches me from inches away with those stupid green eyes that make remembering why I need to leave significantly harder.
“Let me up,” I murmur.
My grip tightens in his hair as I say it, Theo's mouth twitching.
“Don’t.”
I know exactly what that look means.
I lean up and kiss him anyway.
Just once.
That’s what I tell myself when my mouth brushes his, softer this time, no frantic need behind it. Just the slow press of his lips against mine and the cool drag of his piercing catching against them.
One more.
Something about the thought makes my chest ache.
I linger, breathing him in, my thumb brushing absently behind his ear trying to commit the feel of him to memory.
Which is fucking ridiculous.
I’m going home. Not to war.
Still, pulling away feels harder than it should.
I force my hand out of his hair and plant it against his chest before I can change my mind, rolling him off me and putting actual space between us.
“I need to go.”
Theo groans like I’ve personally ruined his life and rolls onto his stomach, propping his cheek against his palm.
The scowl he aims at me is ridiculous, and all I can do is stare at him.
“You’re actually sulking.”
“Fuck off.”
A laugh slips out of me, and I shake my head as I climb out of bed, ignoring the way Theo’s eyes follow me across the room.
My clothes are scattered everywhere.
I grab the nearest T-shirt and drag it over my head, then find a pair of joggers half kicked beneath the bed and shove my legs into them.
The second I straighten, I know neither of them are mine.
They smell like Theo.
His aftershave is caught in the shirt, faint but unmistakable, mixed with detergent and something warmer that is just him. The joggers sit differently on my hips too, slightly too loose, the legs bunching around my ankles.
I look down at myself, warmth spreading beneath my ribs.
Standing in Theo’s bedroom wearing his clothes after waking up in his bed feels dangerously domestic.
I glance back at him where he's still sprawled across the mattress, watching me with his cheek propped in his hand, dark hair sticking up everywhere and his expression caught somewhere between annoyed and amused.
I blow out a slow breath, crawling straight back onto the bed.
Theo’s eyebrows lift, his lips curling up, and I catch his chin before he can say anything, kissing him.
It’s supposed to be quick.
Theo opens beneath me, and my fingers flex around his jaw as the kiss deepens, my knee sinking into the mattress beside his hip.
I pull back barely enough to breathe.
“I—”
The word catches. Theo looks up at me, waiting and I could leave, I should. Instead, I kiss him again.
“I could maybe stay,” I murmur against his mouth, his lips twitching beneath mine.“To study,” I add quickly.
Theo actually smiles now, and I narrow my eyes. “Shut up.”
“Haven’t said anything, princess.”
“You’re thinking it loudly.”
His arm loops around my waist and pulls me closer, his mouth brushing mine again.
“Please,” he murmurs.
That fucking word.
Just please.
It shivers straight down my spine.
I’m staying.
I kiss him once more before forcing myself away, my hands dragging reluctantly over his chest as I sit back.
“If I’m staying, you’re getting dressed.”
Theo’s face falls.
I reach blindly toward the floor, grab the first pair of joggers my hand finds and shove them into his chest.
“Get dressed.”
My voice comes out lower, probably because I’m looking at him again.
And I really shouldn’t be.
His green eyes are too fucking bright for this time in the morning, watching me with lazy amusement.
Then my gaze drops.
His chest is still flushed, broad and tanned and covered in marks that make heat creep straight up my neck because I know exactly how they got there.
My eyes catch on one near his collarbone.
Mine.
Another lower down.
Also mine.
The sheet is tangled low around his waist, doing a useless job of covering him, and my gaze follows the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath it before I realise what I’m doing.
Too late.
“Keep looking at me like that,” Theo drawls, my eyes snapping back to his as he pushes up onto his elbows, the sheet slipping lower.
“And getting dressed is the last thing I’ll be doing.”
His voice has gone thick, and heat curls in my stomach.
I was doing fine.
For approximately thirty seconds.
And now Theo’s looking at me like that again.
“Asshole,” I mutter, tearing my eyes away before he can enjoy this any more than he already is.
A flush crawls up my neck. I can feel it reaching my cheeks.
“Get dressed,” I repeat, turning my back on him, a low chuckle following me across the room.
My textbook is sitting where I left it on the desk, and I grab it, carrying it back to the bed like I’ve developed an intense interest in studying. Anything is better than standing there watching Theo climb out from under that sheet.
Fabric rustles behind me, and I stare determinedly at the cover of my textbook.
There’s another soft scrape of clothing against skin.
I drop onto the edge of the bed and flip it open before I do something stupid like turn around.