Page 12 of His To Unravel
“That’d be nice,” she replies before nervously dropping her gaze to her feet.
We wind through secluded corners, archways draped in ivy, and statues left unremarked by most students.
At each stop, I offer her a glimpse of history, of memories that are only partly mine, stories shared in the quiet confidence between us. She’s entranced, and the awe in her expression is something I’ve craved seeing since I first orchestrated our partnership.
At the entrance to an ancient study nook, a half-forgotten corner where old stone benches meet darkened windows, she stops.
“You must think I’ve wasted my time here,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I’ve spent years tucked away in the library, head down, missing… all ofthis.” Her gaze sweeps over the lamplight flickering against shadowed stone walls.
“No,” I answer softly. “You’ve missed nothing. This place is still yours to discover.” I let my words settle, watching her wrestle with her thoughts, the way her shoulders ease, her body unconsciously shifting closer. “If you’d let me, I could help you reimagine Halford,” I say, my voice dropping lower.
She smiles up at me, and for a moment, it’s just us in the echo of the past and the possibility of whatever might come next.
That she’s putting her trust in me, letting herself see me outside the walls of our project, is intoxicating. I lean in, the pull of her presence undeniable, and whisper, “I’m seeing it in a new light myself.”
Her eyes widen, meeting mine with something raw, vulnerable, almost hopeful. This unfiltered glimpse into her thoughts, her worries, stirs an ache that’s been lying dormant.
I guide her to the final stop, a hidden, unspoiled corner of campus where the trees part to reveal an unbroken view of the sky. The clearing unfolds like a secret, quiet and expansive. Overhead,the stars scatter across the sky in a way that makes the space feel endless, almost otherworldly, as if it exists just for us.
Olivia lets out a soft gasp as she takes in the view, her soft features illuminated by the faint glow of starlight.
I find myself staring at her instead of the stars. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers. “I didn’t know a place like this existed here.” She turns to face me, her eyes bright. “Thank you…for sharing this with me, and for…tonight.”
Her gratitude is genuine, and I can hear the sincerity in her voice. I feel exhilarated knowing that I brought her to this moment.
Her gaze is now on me, holding something between awe and uncertainty. Instinctively, I reach up to brush her hair from her face, tucking a lock behind her ear. My fingers trail along her jaw, eliciting a slight hitch in her breath.
She doesn’t retreat. Her breathing quickens, mirroring my own, and her lips part ever so slightly, like a silent invitation. I move closer, feeling the warmth radiate between us, and when she doesn’t turn away, I know the moment is mine.
Carefully, I close the last bit of distance between us, pressing my lips to hers with a reverent softness.
Her lips are warm, tentative at first, testing the waters. Every instinct urges me to pull her closer, to deepen the connection, but I keep it gentle, savoring the magnetic pull between us as she leans into me, her defenses slipping further with each passing second.
I feel her hand on my shoulder, anchoring herself, and my mind catches on how impossibly fitting it is—how she, without even knowing, is handing herself over to me piece by piece.
Her lips part wider for me, and I sweep my tongue past them—she answers, shy but sure, a slow press that sends heat straight through me. She tastes sweeter than I ever could have imagined.My fingers trail down to cup her jaw and I feel her shiver beneath my touch.
Her hand finds its way to the nape of my neck, and as I deepen the kiss, a faint, breathy sigh escapes her, catching against my lips.
My pulse surges. She’s letting me in—completely, willingly.
I lick into her mouth in earnest, tasting her, exploring every little bit of her that I can. She’s so responsive, her fingers now curling into my shoulders as her tongue meets mine stroke for stroke in timid caresses.
Each second that ticks by with my mouth on hers is complete and utter bliss, an intimacy I never knew could feel so consuming. I pull her closer, savoring the way she yields, her trust handed over as naturally as if it had always belonged to me.
When I finally draw back, her gaze meets mine, wide-eyed and vulnerable—a momentary surrender she seems powerless to resist. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven, and I feel a deep, primal satisfaction at seeing the effect I have on her.
“So,” she begins softly, with a nervous, near-breathless laugh, “this was…unexpected.” Her voice, tentative yet thrilled, holds a note that makes me want to draw her in closer.
“It was bound to happen,” I murmur, watching as her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. She glances away for a moment, but I see the way she hesitates—caught between instinct and intrigue. “I’m glad it happened tonight.”
A quiet descends between us, and I let it linger, allowing the discomfort to give way to something tender. When her eyes finally meet mine again, the resistance in them is gone.
“I’m glad we did this,” she whispers, as if to herself. “Sometimes, I get so caught up with…everything. But tonight…was perfect.”
Her words are like fuel to an already burning flame, and I push down the urge to say what I truly think—that this is only the beginning, thatshe has no idea just how deeply I intend to make herfeel.Instead, I offer a measured, “Then let’s make sure it’s not the last.”
