Sometimes, it feels like he can dip his fingers inside me and draw me out. Other times, I can’t decide if it’s his deceptive gentleness that he only uses to get what he wants.
But at the moment, I choose to drown in the soothing touch he’s offering freely. I might regret it later, but later isn’t right now.
“Sleep.” He starts to stand up, but I hold his hand, stopping him in his tracks.
I’m not ready to give up this warmth yet.
Not tonight.
He raises a brow. “Or would you rather be spanked for not finishing your dinner?”
Although the promise turns my legs boneless, that’s not what I’m after. It’s something deeper, and it might slice and hurt me harder than any of his punishments do.
I pull down the duvet on the empty side of the bed. “Stay.”
He pauses, but he doesn’t remove his hand from mine. “I do not sleep with others.”
“Just tonight,” I murmur.
“Why?”
“Please, Jonathan.”
“I’ll only agree if you do something in exchange.”
The damn tyrant. But he’s caught me in a vulnerable moment where I’d agree to just about anything. “What?”
“You won’t go to that dinner with Ethan.”
Why am I not surprised? But since it’s a small price to pay, I nod.
Jonathan slides under the covers with me and I expect him to keep to his half of the bed. Surprisingly, his arm wraps around my back. I rest my head on his chest, using it as a pillow. His heartbeat is strong and steady like the rest of him.
I fit in the crook of his body so perfectly, it’s as if this is where I was always supposed to be.
His fingers stroke my hair like he did earlier and I get lost in his woodsy scent. In the way he smells fresh out of a shower.
What I don’t tell Jonathan is that I don’t share sleeping space either. I’ve always needed to be by myself to convince myself to sleep and to wake up alone in case I have a bad dream.
But tonight, I don’t spend half an hour or more tossing and turning and thinking of happy thoughts to help me fight off an impending nightmare.
I just fall asleep.
And I know that the simple act of sleeping will never be the same for me again.
30
Aurora
“Morning, mate!”
“Morning,” I tell Layla as she follows me into my office. I swear she barely spends any time in hers.
She hates sitting around and always finds things to do outside of the confinements of her four walls. If she’s not with me, she’s doing rounds in the factory or in the conference room.
I grab the iced coffee she offers and wince as my aching bottom meets the sofa.
The tyrant Jonathan spanked me over breakfast so hard, to the point where I’m sore. Well, more than sore. It really hurts, despite the lotion I applied before going out.