Page 47 of Ronan

“You never remove them?” There’s concern in his tone, but no judgement.

“No,” I whisper.

Ronan kneels beside me, pushing my damp hair from my forehead while careful not to touch my glasses. “You don’t have to run anymore.” His voice is gentle, fingers lingering in my hair. “And I’ll do the fighting for you, mo’sziv. But if you’re more comfortable keeping them on, do it. I’m not trying to steal your sense of security.”

I want to take them off.

Want to show him I trust him.

But I just can’t bring myself to do it. “Maybe just… for today?”

“As long as you need,” Ronan says as he leans in and places an infuriatingly sweet kiss on my forehead. I can’t tear my eyes away as he walks to the bathroom. A tiny smile finds my lips as the pipes vibrate, water plunking into the bathtub again. Exhaustion threatens my consciousness, and despite the sun being high in the sky, I lose the fight to stay awake and fall into a deep sleep before he even returns.

Blackness surrounds me when I open my eyes, and for a moment, I forget where I am. The soft, clean bed underneath me takes me back to my childhood, but the smells are unfamiliar. Mustiness mixed with the subtle perfume of the lavender and pine soap I used in the shower, and the scent jogs my memories.

The shower.I almost crawl out of bed just to marvel at the running water.

Rhythmic breathing stirs me from my thoughts, and I roll over to find Ronan fast asleep on his back. Faint light shines from both our marks, illuminating him enough for me to stare.

The sight of him in a slightly-too-tight t-shirt and rumpled cotton shorts is odd and intimate. Forbidden, like I’m seeing something not quite meant for this world. He came to bed after I fell asleep, so I hadn’t had the pleasure of watching him walk around in something other than his armor.

He’s different like this—peaceful, missing the tension he carries like a trophy.

Long, raven strands fan out and form a chaotic halo underneath him, his tails drooping over the side of the mattress. His marked hand rests on his chest, moving with the subtle rise and fall of his breathing, while the other flops lazily above his head.

My fingers twitch at my sides, resisting the urge to reach over and touch him.

Gods, I want to touch him.

The thin cotton of his clothing leaves nothing to the imagination, and those stupidly defined abs are visible through the white material. Pecs that are strong and sculpted, but not bulky, strain the fabric, a hint of a shadow where his nipples stand taut.

My gaze travels downward, taking in the outline of his cock between his parted legs. Arousal pools low in my belly, tingling and warm as I shamelessly stare, memorizing the shape of him underneath his shorts. He looks… different from me, but not in an obvious way. Thicker and longer, but with a swell towards the base and no flaring at the head.

My dick perks up, thickening in my boxers, and when I drop my hand to brush over it, the light touch causes a low groan to climb from my throat.

Stop being a creep, Cameron,I tell myself, but do I listen?

No, I do not.

I’m a habitual offender when it comes to ignoring my own advice, and this is no exception. Now I’m having an internal battleandI’m horny, which is probably never a great combination.

My fingers graze along my erection and I shiver at the contact, glancing back at Ronan. Would he turn me away if I woke him up and made a move on him? He’s said he’s in this, that he wants totry, just like me, but that nagging insecurity makes me second guess myself. Hell, he wanted to sleep in the chair rather than risk sleeping beside me, so how the fuck would I even approach the subject?

“Hey, Ronan, I know you were hesitant to sleep in the same bed as me, but now I want you to maybe stick my dick in your mouth?”

A classy option.

“Gag me with your giant cock until I can’t breathe, and I’ll die happy?”

Another winner.

“Fuck, stop it, ya perv,” I mutter under my breath, and I shift to face away from Ronan when my cock rubs against the mattress. My hips thrust against the bed, rocking as the throbbing in my core gets stronger. Dry-humping the sheets next to his sleeping body is no less perverted than ogling him, though, so I roll onto my back.

My palms slap the bed in a tantrum as my erection tents my shorts, and Ronan grunts beside me. Mortified, Ifreeze, but he’s sound asleep as he stretches and smacks his lips, rolling onto his side to face away from me.

Now, instead of staring at his dick—which is a loss that needs mourning, honestly—I’m looking at his broad shoulders. His ass somehow fills those loose-fitting shorts as his tails curl up in a cute, tangled pile. Frustrated, a low, rumbling sound escapes my lips as I push my head into the pillow, desperately trying to force sleep.

My cock twitches in my boxers, and I lift my head, glaring at it as it waves hello.

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