Page 60 of Magic in My Bones

Finally, the mattress dipped slightly with his weight, and I caught another whiff of his comforting scent. Dorian reached over to the bedside table, his fingers hovering over the lamp switch.

“Goodnight, Ren,” he murmured.

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, just as the room plunged into shadows.

I lay there, stiff as a board, hyper-aware of Dorian's presence mere inches away. My mind raced, a jumble of conflicting thoughts and desires. Should I move closer? Would that be too forward? What if he didn't want me to? But then, why had he invited me into his bed if not for closeness?

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the muffled patter of rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. I could hear Dorian's steady breathing beside me, feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was maddening, being so close and yet not touching.

Just as I was about to combust from the tension, Dorian's voice cut through the darkness. “Ren?” he said softly. “Would it be alright if I held you?”

“Yes,” I breathed, my heart racing. “Please.”

The mattress shifted as Dorian moved closer, his arm draping gently over my waist. I turned towards him, burrowing into the warmth of his chest. Dorian's fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, and I melted further into his embrace. This felt right, like coming home after a long journey.

As we lay there, my body relaxed, but my mind began to wander. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if Dorian's hands roamed lower, slipping beneath the hem of his borrowed sweater to caress my skin. What would his lips feel like, trailing kisses down my neck? How would it feel to have his body pressed fully against mine, with nothing between us?

My cheeks burned at the direction of my thoughts, but I couldn't stop them. Dorian was right here, solid and warm and real. What was I waiting for? I trusted him more than anyone else in the world. If there was ever a perfect person for me to experience my first time with, it was Dorian.

I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I could muster. My heart thundered in my chest as I slowly sat up, the borrowed sweater slipping off one shoulder. Dorian stirred beside me, his brow furrowing in sleepy confusion.

“Ren? Is everything alright?” he murmured, propping himself up on one elbow.

Words failed me, lodged somewhere between my racing heart and my suddenly dry throat. Instead, I met his gaze in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His green eyes, warm and full of concern, gave me the final push I needed.

With trembling fingers, I grasped the hem of the sweater. Time seemed to slow as I pulled it over my head, the soft fabric whispering against my skin. The cool air of the bedroom raised goosebumps along my arms and chest as I let the sweater fall beside me on the bed.

There. I was exposed. Vulnerable in a way I'd never been before, not with anyone.

In the dim light filtering through the curtains, I watched Dorian's face, my heart thundering against my ribs. Time stretched like honey, sweet and thick with possibility. Everything I wanted—everything I feared—balanced on the edge of this moment, this breath, this choice. I had never felt more terrified. I had never felt more free.

22

Surrender

Ren

In the darkness ofDorian's bedroom, I held my breath as his eyes widened, trailing from my face down to my chest. I resisted the urge to cross my arms, to hide the scars that marked my journey. Each second of silence felt like an eternity, the cool night air raising goosebumps across my bare skin as I waited for his reaction.

“You're breathtaking,” he murmured, reaching out to gently cup my cheek. His thumb brushed along my cheekbone, sending a shiver down my spine.

I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. “Dorian,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “I... I want...”

His other hand came to rest on my waist, warm and steady. “What do you want, mo stóirín?” he asked softly.

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. The intensity I saw there made my heart race. “You,” I breathed. “I want you.”

Dorian's eyes darkened, but he didn't move. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “We don't have to do anything you're not ready for.”

In answer, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened as Dorian responded. His hand slid from my cheek to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer.

I melted into him, my bare chest pressing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. The sensation was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

His fingers brushed against my side, right over one of my scars, just for a second, but it was enough to make me freeze. My breath caught in my throat, and I stiffened instinctively, the familiar unease creeping back in. It wasn’t the touch itself. It was just too much, too soon, and I needed space to decide what I wanted.

Dorian immediately pulled his hand away, his face flickering with concern. “I’m sorry, Ren. I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” I said quickly, my voice soft but steady. “It’s not... it’s not that. I just need to think for a second.”

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