69. Summer
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Summer
“ Y ou want to touch me, princess?”
I lurch up in bed. Sweat trickles down my forehead and I am panting. Alice is still sound asleep next to me, snoring and completely oblivious to me.
I grab my phone and open my messages with the stranger.
Summer
You’re still messing with my dreams.
His reply comes immediately. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s still awake, but it does bring me joy that I know he can’t watch me while I’m in Alice’s room.
Unknown
Clarify.
I growl.
Summer
You’re still fucking around with my dreams. Admit it.
Unknown
Check the oath mark on your hand, little fae. Then accuse me.
I open my palm and twist my hand to catch the silvery light coming in through the windows. The mark of our deal is faint, proving that no boundaries are even close to being invaded. There is absolutely no workaround to the dream part, but if anyone could find one, he could.
Summer
You must have found a loophole.
Unknown
Come outside.
I frown.
Unknown
Come outside and check my mark with your own eyes.
I curse myself for not making time to research oaths. I had hoped that mine would react if he was fucking around. But when he touched me yesterday, mine was unaffected, while I could tell his was burning and seething. I could feel his pain.
With a sigh, I climb out of bed and pull on a sweater before padding downstairs and out to the porch, where he is already waiting for me. He’s leaning against the railing, and I can feel his smirk before I see it.
“Was I fucking you?”
“Excuse me?”
He chuckles. “In your dream. I was fucking you, wasn’t I?”
“I—you—” I sputter. “That is not your concern.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What have you done to interfere with my dreams?”
He pushes off the railing and prowls toward me. I back up, but he keeps advancing until the wall is at my back. He doesn’t touch me, but he towers over me, bracing one arm above my head. “I do hope you imagined me accurately.”
I try to keep my heart rate even, my breaths even, my nerves even. “What did you do?” I ask, my voice betraying me only a little.
“Nothing,” he says, leaning in closer. “You did.”
“You’re lying. ”
He lifts his other hand and lowers the avatar so I can see the skin on his palm, revealing his mark. If he had been in my dreams, it would still be inflamed from the breaking of the pact, yet it looks completely lifeless.
“Any other theories?”
“Can you back up? Being this close to you turns my stomach,” I growl, though I make no move to push him away.
“Then why are you dreaming about me fucking you?” He smirks.
I bristle. “I wasn’t.”
“Liar.” He tilts his head. “Was it accurate?”
“Back off,” I demand, and this time, I shove at his chest. Annoyingly, he doesn’t even rock back on his heels. He grabs my hand and holds it up, studying the matching oath mark on my palm.
“I suppose we don’t need this anymore since you dream about my cock at night,” he says with smug humor.
“The oath remains,” I snarl, trying to yank my hand free.
“Why? If you dream about me anyway?” he asks with a chuckle, adjusting his hold to lace his fingers with mine.
“I—”
He leans in closer. “Seems like you’re the one breaking the oath. Not me,” he whispers, cutting off my protest.
“How?” I ask, trying to move back, but there is nowhere to go with the wall at my back.
“The oath was that I was to stay out of your dreams, yet here you are putting me into them.”
I glare at him. “Only because you’re fucking with my mind somehow. Probably when you’re invading my brain.”
“Ah.” And while I can’t see the eye roll, I can hear it in his voice. “And there it is. Your favorite defense mechanism.”
I try to push at his chest again, but he doesn’t move.
“How much easier it is for you to blame me than to accept the truth.”
“It is the truth,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“The truth, little fae, is that I am in your dreams because you want me there.”
“No.”
“Then why do you dream of my touch, princess?” he asks, tilting his head.
When I don’t reply, he scoffs and pushes off the wall, turning and giving me his back.
He looks out at the starry sky, and it reminds me of a time last year, but everything feels?.
.?. worse. I am not sure how, though, because I thought nothing could compare to the guilt I felt last year, growing closer to the stranger while Connor slept upstairs.
“Your fantasies have always belonged to you,” he says.
“Does that terrify you?” he asks. “To know the only person to blame for your dreams is you?” He glances at me over his shoulder when I don’t reply and lets out a heavy sigh.
“But you’re not ready to admit that. It’s easier to blame me for everything.
” He turns back to the darkness. “I can take it,” he says, and his voice sounds almost sorrowful.
I look away from him, not able to face even his back. “We need to stop training together.” I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep up with the lies, the repression.
“Why?” he asks.
“I need you out of my life.” And it’s the most honest thing I’ve said to him in a long time.
He pushes his hands into his pockets. “I am your life,” he says, his voice sounding unconcerned again.
“I don’t want this.”
He looks at me again. “Too fucking bad.”
I shake my head. “Why do you continue to want someone who will never want you?” I ask, but there is no anger behind the words. Maybe I am just tired, or maybe it’s that glimpse of vulnerability in him again, but there is no spark to ignite the everflame of anger burning within me.
“Because you dream of me,” he says, turning back to face me. “You do want me. If not, then why the dreams?”
“I can’t control my dreams,” I say, swallowing hard.
“Or your desires?”
“I have no idea why I have these?.?.?.” I rub my hands over my face, the anger finally flaring inside me. But it’s not directed at him. It’s with myself. “Sexual needs, but I can promise you it has nothing to do with you, and it never will.”
He’s back on me in a flash, pressing my back to the wall again. “It will always have everything to do with me. I am your beginning and end. I am your first breath and your last,” he snarls in frustration. “You are mine. ”
“Stranger?.?.?.” I hate you. I despise you. The words evade me, and I just stare at him, trying to force them out.
He grabs my jaw and leans closer, his lips hovering over mine. “I could kiss you,” he says, and my breath grows shallow. “No avatar. No glamours. I would prove you a liar.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I say, but even I can’t deny that it almost sounds like an invitation.
He moves his hand to cover my eyes. The darkness envelops me, and then I feel ?his hand turn solid, his body turn solid, and his breath tickles my lips.
“Wouldn’t I?” He breathes the words against my lips, and then he leans in, his soft, pillowy lips pressing against the corner of my mouth.
My breath hitches, and I whimper. “Please don’t.” I can’t take it. I can’t take it. Not now.
He moans, and the deep sound turns my insides to liquid. “Fuck, I love the sound of you begging,” he says. It is nearly a taunt, but then he slides his lips to my jaw to press another kiss there.
I bite my lip to hold back my moan, to stop myself from reaching out to him and brushing my fingers over him. I fight the good fight, resisting until his stubble--roughened cheek brushes against mine, and his sinfully soft lips rest near my ear.
“Stranger. Please?.?.?.” I gasp, grabbing his shirt and clenching the material in my fist.
“Gods, my cock aches when you beg. Dangerous to have such control over me with such an easy tactic?.?.?.” he growls against my ear.
He knees my thighs open and fits his body close, letting me feel his pulsing need as he rocks his hard cock against me.
I wonder if this is causing pain, but the only discomfort he seems to feel is the burn of his desire.
I wonder if the words of the oath become void if I touch him too.
I need to stop this because I’m about to turn into complete putty in his arms.
He bites my earlobe, and my eyes roll beneath his hand, the pleasure completely indecent. My core practically quakes in need. Even from this, I feel more pleasure than I’ve ever felt combined. How does he do this?
“Please?.?.?.” I say again, but I’m not even sure what I’m begging for anymore. He moans again, and his hips buck against my stomach. His lips trail down to my neck, and I moan loudly in surprise when he bites me hard. Helplessly, my body arches, sliding against his in offering.
The stranger pulls back, but I can still feel the heat of his body and the rush of his breath. He brushes a single finger over his bite, painting thick, warm liquid over my neck. He leans back in, pressing a soft kiss to his mark, making it throb deliciously.
“Next time you dream of my cock, ask me to come to make sure it is accurate.”
I tighten my fingers in his shirt, trying to get some purchase on my thoughts, but they’re so jumbled thanks to my desire-addled state that I have no hope.
He nudges my jaw, lifting my chin, making room for him to slide his tongue over my throat. “You taste like?.?.?.”—he groans, low and feral—“a paradise I’ll never deserve, but I’ll take instead.”
I hear a soft rustling from the forest, and his body goes rigid against me. He growls low and predatory, a warning for whatever is out there. Then his warmth is gone, and he pulls his hand away. I blink, looking at his avatar, which is now snarling at something in the distance.
“We’re being watched,” he says.
I clear my throat. “I should get back inside.”
He reaches out and wraps his hand around my wrist, holding me in place as he stares into the darkness.
I know he is casting out all his senses, and I stay quiet, letting him concentrate.
I don’t know what he finds, but he must decide we’re not in imminent danger because he turns and cups my cheek, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip.
“You’re flushed,” he says, and I stare up at him, still entranced.
“It’s?.?.?. hot,” I say, my lips moving against his thumb in a near kiss.
“No it’s not.”
“Well, I’m hot.” I blush more. “Warm. I’m warm.”
“You are hot.” He chuckles.
“So, training tomorrow?” I say, taking a step back and looking away, trying to quash whatever it is I’m feeling.
He tilts his head. “I thought you didn’t want that anymore.”
“We made an oath.” That’s it, Summer, keep telling yourself that’s why. That you’re trying to keep your boundaries enforced. While earlier I was desperate to get away from him, with every second we’re together, I’m feeling more and more as if that is not very likely. Because I am drawn to him.
He watches me for a moment and then leans in, kissing my cheeks softly, and I hate it, already missing the feeling of his actual lips against me.
“Until later, little fae,” he says and pulls back.
My stomach curdles at the way I have to stop myself from reaching out for him, to pull him back to me. I clench my fists. What the fuck is wrong with me? In a small gush of air he’s gone, and I’m left with the chaotic mess he has made of my head and my panties.