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It was too much.

Too good.

Too close to something I cannot handle.

It shouldn’t be like this.

Dorian’s breath draws near, his scent fills the space between us, invading what I try to defend. I do not turn. Inside my head, something screeches and keeps repeating.

“Make no sound.”

“Do not look at me.”

“You do not understand.”

I lift myself from the bed with difficulty, my arms trembling as I push up.

“Do not flatter yourself,” I hiss under my breath.

I feel the mattress lighten. Then the muffled sound of his footsteps on the floor. His presence plants itself before me without me needing to look up to know it.

“What do you mean by that?”

He takes a step closer.

“Is it just a hand again?”

Another step.

“Or this time will you tell yourself it was nothing more than carnal desire?”

I lower my eyes.

A sigh escapes him, long, barely controlled. Then the sharp sound of a knee hitting the floor. Another.

Dorian is kneeling before me. His hands reach for my face, forcing me gently to lift my head.

“What is happening to you?” he says more softly. “Why do you do this?”

I press into his warm hands, closing my eyelids, and let my body relax, yielding to his touch.

“I am cold.”

His thumbs graze my cheeks, I open my eyes and find him there, staring with intensity, his brow slightly furrowed. He reaches out and gathers the wool blanket that had fallen, draping it over my shoulders.

The fabric envelops my skin, his warmth mingling with mine, and for a moment I want nothing more than to stay like this.

He stands and takes a step back.

“Wait here.”

An immediate impulse makes me snap forward, I seize his wrist.

“Where are you going?”

He leans down and brushes a light kiss on my forehead.

“I am having hot water prepared. Wait here.”