Page 161 of His To Erase
He leans in closer, with the same voice that pulled the crawl right out of me. “No, sweetheart.”
Then he presses the towel harder, cruel in a way that makes my back arch as a moan slips out—earning me a smile from him.
“I’m just getting started.”
He finishes cleaning me up then tosses the towel aside and stands with that cocky silence stretching between us again. He turns away without a word, but at the doorway, he pauses.
“Go pee,” he says. “Then come back.”
Come back?
Not leave or go to bed?
What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
I feel tender in places I didn’t even know could be touched but I move anyway. Because apparently—I do what he says now.
The bathroom is dim as moonlight spills across the tile like water. I don’t look in the mirror, I don’t need to. I already know what I’ll see and we don’t really need to go there right now.
I wash my hands like I can scrub the submission off my skin but it’s in me now. Humming under the surface. And still—I hover at the door.
I could crawl into the guest bed and pretend none of this happened. Rebuild the walls, but Iwantto go back out there.
I walk down the hall and see him sitting on the edge of the couch, shirtless and leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees like he’s deep in thought.
The soft flicker of the TV is the only light in the room—Harry Potter’s still playing and I hover in the doorway. I should probably thank him for telling me to pee, but instead I open my mouth and let the brat speak first.
“So what, is this standard procedure after you fuck someone stupid?”
He stares at the floor—like the whole world lives between his feet and whatever’s still dripping out of me. The silence stretches, making my stomach twist in that way I hate.Okaayyy.
I shift, awkwardly glancing at the screen—and a laugh slips out before I can stop it.
Ron’s voice echoes across the room.“Why spiders? Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies’?”
I snort and instantly feel his stare. He’s not watching the floor anymore, he’s watching me. His dark eyes are so intense it steals the breath from my lungs. I blink. “What?”
His voice cuts through the quiet, soft enough to gut me.
“You don’t laugh like that.”
I scoff, trying to claw the moment back before it gets too close or too real. “Are you keeping a file on me now?” I ask, raising a brow.
He smiles. “Crawls. Orgasms. Emotional outbursts…what’s next?”
I roll my eyes and cross the room, collapsing onto the opposite end of the couch. My body still aches, feeling stretchedand sore in ways I don’t want to think about. Okay, I actually do want to keep thinking about them.
I grab a throw pillow and wedge it between us like that’ll do anything. Whatever’s between us hums louder than the movie, and I’m getting wet all over again just thinking about it.
I’m doing everything in my power not to look at the man who made my body beg and now sits there—composed, and relaxed.
I didn’t meanto stay or sink into the cushions and curl up like this was safe But here I am.
And apparently… so is he.
At some point, he shifted closer and his arms stretched across the back of the couch, close enough that I feel his warmth. It’s taking everything in me not to lean toward it.
Sirius falls through the veil and I feel it hit—before it even happens. My chest is suddenly too tight and my eyes sting.
