Page 62 of The Rose in the Shadows

“I’d noticed that,” I panted, somewhat surprised at how deprived I sounded.

He laughed softly and the sensation of his breath across my neck sent a fresh wave of anticipation down my body. It lingered at the crux of my thighs, demanding attention. I couldn’t think of anything but that desire. I couldn’t feel anything but his body against mine.

Briefly, my mind wandered back to Madame Stefania's for the second time that night. I thought of the woman who had sat perched atop a man who buried his hand between her thighs. I thought of the way her head had fallen back in pleasure.

What would Clay’s hand feel like on my skin?

And while the drug may have spurred my need on, I certainly wasn’t alone in it. I could hear the hitch of his breath as I ground my rear into him once more. I could feel the twitch of his fingers as he held himself back from grasping my breast. Greedily, I arched my back, attempting to push myself into that waiting hand, but his arms locked around me, holding me still.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he reminded me.

“So help clear my thoughts.”

I twisted desperately, trying to turn myself to face him, but he moved in an instant, gripping my chin and pulling my head so that I met his golden eyes over my shoulder. His grasp was tight, his body taut, his desire for me pressing firmly against my back. I gasped slightly.

“If you let me touch you tonight, you’re going to wake up and regret it,” he breathed. “I know you want it now, and Thea, please believe me when I say I want nothing more than to fuck you so thoroughly that you dream of my cock. But I will not be someone you regret.”

I stilled, staring into his eyes and feeling the sincerity of his words settle over me. He released me slowly, and I pushed onto my elbow to turn and face him fully. It was somewhat unfair for someone born into such power to be blessed with such beauty as well. His face might have been carved by the Gods themselves. Sharp jawline, passionate eyes, full lips that were as masculine as they were delicate.

“Who’s to say I would regret it?”

“Who’s to say you wouldn’t?”

I frowned. “I know what I want Clay. Iwantyou to touch me. Are you going to tell me you don’t want the same?”

“You haven’t the slightest idea the things I want to do to you Thea. But I’m trying very hard to be a good man right now.”

Everything in me wanted to protest more. I wanted to reach out, grab his hand, and place it exactly where I wanted it. That place where the curling tension was nearly unbearable. But Clay just patted the bed next to him, encouraging me to lay back once more.

“It should wear off soon. Just give it a minute.”

I flopped unhappily onto my back, content to stare up at the ceiling in frustration. He chuckled softly. Eventually, the need began to fade, but still I glanced towards him from the corner of my eye. With his hand behind his head and his chest completely exposed, he was truly… beautiful.

Without warning or a real understanding of my own actions, I moved towards him. I pressed my lips against his in a gentle touch. The feeling was electric, setting my blood on fire once more, but I didn’t push for more than just that touch.

His lips trembled slightly under mine in surprise, before finally offering me the slightest bit of pressure in return. His hand reached to cradle my head as I pulled away.

“Thank you for protecting me tonight,” I whispered.

He hovered there, staring at me while we shared each other’s breath, listening to the rain fall outside, before he finally swallowed and nodded. I moved to turn back to my side once more, content to settle myself into sleep, but his arms locked around me again, tight and restricting.

“Is that from tonight?” he questioned, golden eyes staring at my throat.

I frowned, unsure of his meaning until I remembered that in his loose shirt, the bruise from his father’s bite was fully visible.

“No, but I’m fine.” The words flew out in a suspicious rush that left him raising an eyebrow at me while I lifted a hand to hide the evidence of the Dragon’s crime. “It’s nothing.”

“Who did that, Thea?” His voice was like death, or at least the promise of it.

I chewed on my lip, unable to bring life to the words. It wasn’t for the Dragon’s benefit that I kept my silence. I owed it to Clay. He had protected me from the Alchemist, so the least I could do was to protect him from yet another incident where his father had failed to do the right thing.

In the end, though, I didn’t have to say anything. Clay already knew the kind of man his father was.

His eyes darkened as he continued staring at the bruise.

“I’ll speak with him. He won’t do that to you again.”

I wanted to pull away, to insist that I was fine and that he shouldn’t cause trouble on my behalf, but he pulled at me suddenly until he was on his back and I was draped over his chest. We sat like that for a long while. I lost myself in the sound of his breathing and the comforting way his fingers traced circles over my shoulder. As the effects of the drug began to waver and the reality of the world crushed back into me, I couldn’t help where my thoughts lingered.

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