Page 67 of Born of Ice

It takes a solid minute for me to unfreeze and regain my breath before I try to dislodge from him, but then I remember he carried me here and my chair is back in the room. Great, there is no way for me to get out of here without waking him up.

So, do it.My brain taunts me.Wake him up and get away from Exton.

I lift my hand to shake him, but stop midway, instead stalling, and then my open palm curls into a fist as I pull it away.

It’s not much different than how we sleep in the bed, is it? So, why wake Exton up when he seems so at peace. He must be exhausted from his errant and the gym. At least that’s what I tell myself to make my brain shut up. To make it stop chanting that we are going to get hurt. Again.

But I can’t, I can’t wake him.

No, I can only sit here, in a half lying position with him partially covering my body and watch those puffy lips parted and smashed against my body as tiny drops of drool are already starting to pool around my shirt. Watch his eyes flutter softly, those thick, long lashes lying against his soft skin, his crease-free forehead that I run my fingers over and smile at how cute this hulk looks when he’s asleep.

But it’s not until I go back to playing with his hair that Exton stirs again, and I brace myself for whatever crap he’ll come up with when he realizeswherehe’s sleeping. However, he doesn’t wake up. Oh, no.

Exton brings both of his arms up and around my waist, sneaking them behind me and then lowers one until it’s cupping my butt cheek. At least, I think that’s where it ends up…and squeezes me to him like he would a pillow.

Oh, God… I yelp softly, bracing my hands on his shoulders and I’m almost positive I’ll wake him up now but while I’m trying to decide what to do, my own eyelids start feeling heavy with sleep, my whole body relaxed and warm. Safe.

And the last thought I have before sleep takes me isI’m evaporating…

“Angry elve, no, two sunriseses in a rouw ith too much,” I hear Exton mumble incoherently though my own haze of sleep and I try to blink it away, but I’m still way too comfortable to wake up.

“I’m not the one waking you up, asshole. Shhh,” I mumble back, slapping my hand on his back, or whatever it is I’m slapping, and it seems that he went back to sleep but I, on the other hand, get assaulted with the memories of last night.

Movie night.

I’m not in my bed.

I’m on the couch.

Exton fell asleep on top of me.

Oh, God, I forgot about that but wait a minute… I drop my hand back down and it smacks against his body again, this time with a groan from him, but it’s not Exton’s back I’m smacking.

Is that…his chest? I run my hand through it again, this time patting all over the place, up and down to figure out what exactly I’m touching, and I gasp when my fingers reach the unmistakable edge of his sweatpants.

“Angry elf, if you’re gonna keep feeling me up like this, we’re gonna have a problem. And I do meanwe.” I feel his arm close around me, and I yelp, yanking my hand back up and feel his mouth curl into a smile.

Wait,I feelhis mouth? I freeze, realizing one more interesting fact that I somehow missed until now.

Exton is not on top of me.

I am on top of Exton.

Oh, dear Lord…

“Shhh, I was having a very good dream, and I’d like to go back to it,” he murmurs into my hair, his hot breath skittering across my skin like tiny ice pricks at the same time as he presses me harder into his body.

Fuck me…I stop breathing when I feel his erection—that is very prominent in his sweatpants—dig into my lower belly.

“Mm-hmm, that kind of dream,” he says salaciously.

“Jesus Christ! Exton!” I yell out, slapping my hand across my burning face, but since I’m plastered on top of him, I end up slapping him more than myself and he groans again, the sound somehow making his lower body move and rub his very hard cock against me and my heartrate skyrockets.

Because I felt that.

And not in my lower stomach. No, I felt it there. In my core.

A delicious tickle shot right through my pussy for the first time in almost two months and I’m terrified to allow any trickle of hope to slide through my ice. It was just a fluke. A phantom feeling like I sometimes feel my legs moving but they aren’t.

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