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Her cleavage is deep and dark, because of course she’s not wearing a bra in bed, as girls do. I hear they hate bras.
I don’t hate them. The bra I bought her is epic and she has to wear it for me—but no bra… is even better. The way her tits mold to my chest, their roundness, their softness… Fuck, these things do something to a guy’s head.
They drive him fucking crazy.
“Rys.” She’s trying to get out of my arms, I realize, blinking dazedly. Deep sleep, plus morning wood, which is getting harder with every second I spend holding her and gazing down at her tits—isn’t a good combo for listening comprehension.
“What?” I breathe.
“Stop staring at my breasts and let me go!”
I sigh. “As you wish, princess.”
She scrambles away from me the second I release her and I roll onto my back, biting back a groan as abused muscles protest. My arm, the one that was under her for hours, is dead to the world, more like a piece of chopped wood, and I know that soon enough the pins and needles will start.
Fucking joy.
“Why are you here?” She sits up and pulls the covers up to her waist, an accusing look on her heart-shaped face.
“You were having a nightmare,” I say.
“And you know that, how? Were you spying on me?”
I laugh. “You serious? No, I felt it.”
“You felt me having a nightmare.” She sounds incredulous.
“Believe me, it’s the first time I’ve sensed something like that. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. I felt your…magic.” I frown because Ophelia said Mia has no magic, and Ophelia doesn’t lie, right? “And fear. I felt your fear and I thought you were being attacked.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I noticed that when I opened your door.”
“And yet you came to my bed.”
I lift my brows. “As I said, you were having bad dreams.”
“And then you fell asleep.”
“Nothing escapes you, sweet cheeks, does it?” The pins and needles have started and I hiss through my teeth. I’ve learned to accept pain, but damn.
“Why?” she whispers.
“I was tired. What do you think? Why do people sleep?”
“Rys…” She shakes her head, all that glorious dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her tits look even better now, outlined in the soft fabric of her top, and holy fuck, I want her so damn bad I think my dick is contemplating some kamikaze moves to get inside of her. “I mean, why are you here? Why aren’t you with Ophelia?”
“I…” That’s confusing. “I didn’t fucking feel like it.”
I think I went by her room… But she wasn’t in and then I couldn’t remember what I had gone there for. Because I don’t want Ophelia, I don’t…
Something tugs on my mind, reminding me that Ophelia is good to me, that she’s invested in my well-being, that Mia doesn’t really matter.
But damn, Mia looks good. So hot. Gets my blood running faster in my veins.
“You didn’t feel like it,” she repeats.
“What’s the matter?” I fold my arms behind my head, spread my legs a little. “Don’t you like what you see?”
