7. Kyros #3
I take a deep breath, allowing her scent to wash away the feeling of the nightmare I was stuck in and savoring the feel of her being so close.
It was not my plan to end up sleeping next to her in the bed.
But after she said my name so sadly in her sleep, I couldn’t help but lay down close to her.
I only hoped to ease some of her anxiety while she slept.
At some point, I had fallen asleep too, and our bodies twisted together as one.
It felt right to be sleeping next to her.
Even though I couldn’t have been out for long, and despite the turbulence of my sleep, I feel more rested than I have been in some time.
My brows furrow as I think again of Mavros before I push it away. It couldn't have been real.
Her back arches as she takes a deep breath, her body flexing against mine as she stretches and begins to wake.
It takes all the control I have in me not to pull her fully on top of my body and let her hips settle over mine.
When she relaxes again, she lets out a soft moan that sends a ripple of need straight down my spine.
Control is not easy around her on the best days, but having her here in my arms like this?
I want nothing more than to be the reason her back arches and for those little moans to become something feral.
We both tense as need swells at my cock, and she feels just where my mind has gone.
The silence stretches between us. Her dark lashes stay fanned out on her cheek as she tries to keep the facade of sleep, though I know she’s awake just by the way her breathing has quickened with each beat of my heart.
Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth before I start to wordlessly remove myself from our tangle of limbs.
“Wait.” Her small hand presses against the center of my chest. The movement does nothing to keep me there, but her one-word plea anchors me in place more than any other force could.
I relax once again into the bed, lifting my arm to wrap around her lithe body.
She still smells of our travels. Rain, earth, and the metallic tang of Shayd’s blood lingers in the air, but there is still an undercurrent of the scent that is so undeniably her.
The warmth of a fire at night, but sweet like heated sugar.
I breathe it in, relishing in how it will last on my skin.
I could have tried to wake her. Insisted she allow me to clean her up, but I couldn’t.
Not when she was so physically and emotionally exhausted.
Not when she lost the battle to stay awake the way she did.
My hand moves on its own accord, scoring lines with the tips of my fingers along her bare arm.
I watch as her eyes flutter closed and gooseflesh marks her skin.
She lets me continue my gentle touch, but I can almost feel the fight building in her the more she comes out of her sleep.
Taking one more deep breath, I let out a sigh.
As much as I wish life could be just this, simple moments and languid touches, it’s just not an option for people like us.
“You didn’t have the nightmares?” I quietly ask, breaking the heavy silence.
“Not the usual nightmares, no.” She says, an underlying sorrow in her voice.
“But you did have them.” I say the words, but the question is gone from my tone.
I don’t have to ask. I can tell by the way her forehead wrinkles in thought.
The way she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
She is quiet for a moment as I think back to how she said my name in her sleep.
I can still hear the sadness that coated her throat when she did.
Was I the one who caused her nightmares this time?
Tortured by the pain I caused her heart, and she carried it into her sleep.
“It wasn’t all bad.” She clarifies, and I look down just as she looks up at me through her thick fan of lashes, her eyes radiantly rested and shining.
I wish I could lose all inhibitions. I want nothing more than to pull her closer.
Claim her mouth. Still submerged by the ocean in her eyes, my other hand comes up and cups her jaw.
My thumb brushes across her lips and my own lips part to say something, but nothing feels right.
Too much lies between us. So much has happened and so much is still unknown.
I can’t hurt her more.
“I’ll let you get cleaned up. There is a bathing chamber through the door to the right of the sitting area.
” I pause, committing every dark lash framing her eyes to memory.
“Please don’t go wandering.” I say the last part under my breath.
I wonder if I should beg her not to leave me.
My heart couldn't stand it if she did. But I can't force those words to flow freely from my mouth.
The look she gives me, though, makes me think she heard the words I didn't speak.
We hold each other's gaze for a moment longer before I slip from the bed.
She lets me go this time. Slipping my boots back into place, I open the door, pausing only for a moment, staring out into the empty hallway.
Hoping that maybe she might take the opportunity to call me back.
She doesn’t.
I feel my shoulders drop, heavy with what I know is to come. I can’t look back to see her face. I don’t want to know if my departure brings disappointment or relief to show in her eyes.