Chapter 15: The Morning Light
Time became a soft, nebulous thing, measured only by the gradual softening of his knot and the slow, synchronized rhythm of their breathing. The frantic pulse of Aurora’s heat had receded, leaving a warm, sated haze in its wake. She was floating, her body heavy and pleasantly aching in places she’d never been aware of before.
She stirred first, a slight shift of her hips that made her acutely aware of the continued, intimate connection. Rhys was still inside her, softened but present. A wave of shyness, hotter than the remnants of her heat, washed over her. She opened her eyes, her lashes fluttering against the skin of his chest where her face was nestled.
He felt the movement, the subtle tension returning to her limbs. His hand, which had been splayed possessively across the small of her back, stroked once, slowly.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice sleep-roughened and deeper than usual.
She tilted her head up, her hazel eyes wide and unsure in the dim light.The fierce, desperate need had faded from them, replaced by a vulnerable curiosity. She was looking at him, really looking, for the first time since he’d arrived—not as a concept, but as a person.A slow, lazy smile touched his lips. It transformed his face, softening the sharp lines of his jaw, making the tattoo at the corner of his eye crinkle. “So.This is awkward.” His tone was dry, light.“Hi. I’m Rhys. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage here.”
A surprised, breathy laugh escaped her.It was a fragile sound, but it cut through the lingering intensity in the room. She blushed fiercely, the color heating her cheeks, and tried to hide her face again, burrowing back into his chest.His chuckle vibrated against her cheek.He didn’t let her hide. Gently, he hooked a finger under her chin, coaxing her face up. With his other hand, he brushed a sweat-damp strand of blonde hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear.His touch was calloused, infinitely careful.
“Seriously,” he said, his smile lingering but his eyes turning serious.“You okay?”
She nodded, her voice a shy whisper. “I’m… good. Sore.”
“That’s normal.” His thumb traced the arc of her eyebrow.“First time for everything. Heat makes it more… intense.” He paused, his gaze searching hers.“I should get you water.Food. You’ve burned through everything.”
But he didn’t move.Neither did she. The space between their bodies was nonexistent, warm and damp.Breaking the connection felt like a monumental, impossible task.
Aurora’s thoughts drifted, her mind catching up to the staggering reality of the last few hours. This man, this alpha, inside her. The overwhelming urgency, the pain that had swiftly blurred into a pleasure so profound it had stolen her breath.The terrifying, anchor-like sensation of his knot. She focused on the feeling of him now, still nestled within her, a quiet, constant presence. Without thinking, driven by a lingering pulse of her heat and a spark of newfound curiosity, she clenched her internal muscles around him.
Rhys jerked as if electrocuted.A harsh, strained curse gritted out from between his teeth. His hips gave an involuntary, shallow thrust, his half-hard cock responding instantly to the sudden, slick pressure.His hand on her back spasmed, pulling her tighter against him.
“Christ, Aurora,” he growled, the sound half-pained, half-aroused. His eyes darkened, the playful softness evaporating. “Warn a guy.”
“Sorry!” she gasped, her own eyes wide, but a flicker of something else—tiny, secret power—lit within them. She hadn’t known she could do that.Could affect him so viscerally. “I… I was just…”
“Thinking?” he finished for her, his voice still tight. He shifted then, finally, slowly pulling out of her. The separation was a distinct, wet sound, and Aurora whimpered at the sudden emptiness, the loss of that intimate fullness.
“Yeah,” he said, answering his own question as he rolled onto his back beside her, one arm flung over his eyes.“Don’t think. It’s dangerous.”
She lay there, feeling exposed and cold without the heat of him. The sheet was tangled around her legs.She pulled it up to her chin, peeking at his profile. The tattoos on his chest and arm were intricate, swirling patterns she wanted to trace. “Why?”
He sighed, a long, weary sound. After a moment, he dropped his arm and turned his head to look at her.“Because then you start asking questions. Like ‘what now?’”
Aurora fell silent.He was right. That was exactly the question forming in her mind, a delicate, terrifying bud.The heat wasn’t over. She could feel it simmering under her skin, a banked fire waiting for a breeze.He was here.He’d knotted her. Did he leave?Did he stay?Was this just… a transaction?
Rhys pushed himself up on one elbow, looming over her.His expression was unreadable.“Look. The deal was I help you through your heat.That’s it.You get what you need. I get… a release.” The words were blunt, meant to construct a wall. But his eyes, fixed on her mouth, then drifting down to where the sheet covered her breasts, betrayed him. The want was still there, a live wire.
“I know the deal,” Aurora whispered, her voice small but clear.She didn’t look away.
“Do you?” He leaned closer, his scent enveloping her again—cedar, sex, man. “Because the deal doesn’t include you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m something you want to keep.” The words hung in the air, stark and honest.
Aurora’s heart hammered against her ribs.Her heat, ever-responsive, gave a hungry lurch. The sweet, cloying scent of her desire began to seep back into the room, sharper now, less panicked. More intentional.She saw his nostrils flare, his pupils swallowing the warm brown of his irises.
She gathered every ounce of her courage, which felt about as substantial as cobwebs. “I do want you to stay,” she admitted, the confession leaving her breathless.“Through the heat. The… deal.” She swallowed.“Please.”
Rhys stared at her for a long, tense moment. He was a man built for clear lines and simple mechanics. This—this soft, pleading omega with her devastating sincerity and bottomless eyes—was a complication he hadn’t factored in. He’d expected need, maybe desperation. Not this quiet, trusting entreaty that bypassed all his defenses.He let out a long, controlled breath, the fight leaving his shoulders. The wall crumbled.“Okay,” he said, the word simple and final. He swung his legs off the bed, his broad back a landscape of muscle and ink.“But first, water. And I’m raiding your kitchen. You’re gonna need your strength.” He stood up, gloriously, unselfconsciously naked, and walked out of the bedroom.
Aurora watched him go, a strange, fluttering feeling in her chest that had nothing to do with her returning heat. It felt like relief, spiked with a thrilling, terrifying hope. She lay back against the pillows, listening to the sounds of him opening cabinets in her kitchen, the mundane domesticity of it somehow more intimate than anything that had happened before.The next wave was coming. She could feel it building, a tingling under her skin.But for the first time, she wasn’t afraid of it. She closed her eyes, a small, private smile touching her lips as she waited for him to return.