Page 90 of The Sovereign: Part One
I tilted my head up, my lips just shy of his.“If you can top what you just did.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw.His fingers fisted in the fabric at my waist.He opened his mouth to speak, looked down at his base briefs filling with his desire, and then thought better of saying his next words, his lips instead crashing against mine.Every last ounce of his patience burned away.
I bit his lower lip, just enough to tease, and his breath came out in a sharp exhale before he kissed me harder, deeper, his grip tightening.
My nails dug into his shoulders, and he groaned against my mouth, shifting his weight just before lifting me onto the island.He pulled my legs around him, his hands sliding from my ankles, skimming the backs of my calves, then continued upward—slow and sure—until he caught my wrists and pinned them at my sides.His mouth slowed against mine, but the tension in his grip told a different story.
“Maxim,” I whimpered, barely recognizing my own voice.
He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his breath ragged.“I know.”
“We’re still waiting?”
He reached around to pull me flush against him, then slowly slid his hands down my legs, gripping my ankles once more, gently tugging while tilting his pelvis into the apex of my thighs—the shift barely noticeable, but deliberate.I tightened my legs around him in response, holding him there for just a breath, just long enough to feel his restraint waver.
Then, he exhaled, tension rippling through him as he took a reluctant step back.“We’re still waiting.”
Chapter Twenty
The morning light filtered through the transpane skylight, cool and diluted.I blinked against it, my body slow to respond.My limbs were heavy, thoughts sluggish as if they hadn’t fully returned from wherever I’d drifted during the night.
The sheets were twisted around my legs, a protest from the bed I wasn’t ready to leave.My muscles ached from too many tense nights of wishing I wasn’t alone, my mind still fogged by a dream I couldn’t quite catch.The air outside the comforter felt too sharp, as did the world beyond my somna—upcoming Oathbond planning, Maxim’s deviations, and tomorrow’s evaluations—pressed beneath the weight of a blanket I hadn’t asked for.If it weren’t for the promise of seeing Maxim, his first embrace always warm and eager, I might’ve let the day pass without me.
“Good morning, Isara,”Calyx chimed, his tone somewhere between chipper and clinical.The Sablestone’s temperature rose by a few degrees, the lighting warmed, and the scent of jasmine unfurled through the air like a sigh.“Today is Sunday, March 29.The forecast remains mild.Your hydration levels are slightly below target.Shall I initiate a nutrition protocol or give you time to recalibrate at your own pace?”
I groaned into the pillow.“Remind me to uninstall your morning enthusiasm.”
“Downgrading to groggy and irritable.”
“Hilarious,” I muttered as the interface shimmered to life, presenting a soft terracotta ensemble, versatile enough to suit whatever adventure we decided on for the day.
My gaze wandered to the frame on the dresser, expecting the same blank pane of glass, only to catch on the unmistakable shape of something new.
The photo from our Court Date fit perfectly inside.Next to it, a sleek black frame contained a second photo.
It caught me off guard—an image of Maxim and me at the carnival, both of us mid-laugh as I struggled to hold Mochi, the bear’s bulk overwhelming my arms, limbs splayed in every direction.In the background, the exponent who’d handed him over stood motionless, inactive after completing its task until the next couple came along.We weren’t posed or prepared, just caught in the middle of something ridiculous and real, Maxim leaning close, his hand resting at the small of my back, the moment natural and unplanned.
I remembered the way I nearly dropped Mochi when the exponent extended him unceremoniously into my arms, and Maxim had burst out laughing—not at me, but with that kind of rare, full-bodied joy that couldn’t be contained.He’d reached to anchor me without thinking, his hand landing low at my back, a subtle act of protectiveness, unwittingly creating a core memory for me.
I’d looked up at him just as he looked at me, and for half a second, everything else fell away—the noise, the crowd, the lights.In that moment, it was just the two of us.
He’d been so proud.I could see it in the way his smile lingered after the laughter had faded, in the furrow of his brow like he couldn’t believe something so simple for him had made methathappy.
Some would say it was insignificant.Silly, even.A game booth and a ridiculously oversized bear.But it was perfect.It was ours.And now, the moment was captured beautifully and sitting on my side console.
Before I could process what it meant—or why it was there—Calyx shifted protocols.
“Good morning, Maxim.Your presence was logged at 05:07.System sync remains within optimal thresholds.Will you be requiring operational integration for the day, or shall I assume we’re continuing the experimental interpretation of Vesture protocol?”
Maxim chuckled behind me.
I bolted upright too quickly, a rush of dizziness tipping the edges of my vision.Instinct sent my gaze to the empty side of the bed—only it wasn’t empty.Maxim was still there, lying beside me, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped casually across the sheets.He watched me with a slow, amused smile, like he’d been waiting for the exact moment I’d panic.
“You can’t stay overnight, Maxim!Being shielded somehow is one thing, but they’ll notice you didn’t check in at The Crèche!”
“Take a breath, my love,” he said, pressing his palm against my thigh.“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.I waited until you were fully at rest, left for the Crèche at 01:42, completed my recharge and maintenance, handled a few… personal errands, and—as Calyx so eloquently tattled—returned at 05:07.”
I stared at him.He looked… perfect.Relaxed, even.Like this was normal.“Would those errands have anything to do with that?”I asked, pointing to the photos now snug in two rare, precious frames.
