Chapter Twenty Three: Could I Risk It?

Sometime later I woke up slowly, my mind foggy until a rhythmic, blunt friction against my leg pulled me fully into consciousness. 

I didn't move, I didn't even breathe. I was pressed against something solid and radiating heat, my body angled in a way that told me I was no longer on my side of the bed.

I blinked my eyes open, staring into the shadows. My heart stopped.

At some point in the night, the distance between us had vanished. I was practically on top of him, my chest flush against his side and my leg hooked slightly over his hip. I felt the coarse linen of his undershirt against my cheek.

Then I felt it again. A steady, subconscious movement.

Eilis was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, but the "beast" wasn't entirely dormant. His dick was hard, pressing firmly against the bare skin of my inner thigh. With every slow breath he took, he shifted, a low, instinctive hump that dragged the heat of him against me.

The terror I’d felt earlier was joined by a frantic, dizzying panic. If he woke up now and felt me draped over him like this, or worse, if his body’s instinct took over while he was still half-dreaming, the thin thread of control he’d promised would snap.

I stayed frozen, the friction of him against my thigh making my skin crawl and burn at the same time. I needed to move, to crawl back to my edge of the bed before he realized how close we’d become, but I was terrified that any sudden movement would wake the predator lying right beneath me.

But then a random thought overtook me, Denis had said the maids weren't smelling Eilis on the bed, that they had come to a conclusion that me and Eilis didn't fulfill our marital duties. What if I took this opportunity? But what if I regretted it? I bit my lip in thought. 

If I encouraged this, I wasn’t just "fulfilling a duty." I was playing with a fire that had already scarred me. I looked at the dark silhouette of his jaw, the way his pulse thrummed steadily in his neck. 

He was a predator who had promised he was in control, but right now, his body was acting on a primitive instinct that didn't know about promises or pacts.

If he woke up in the middle of it, would he see me as his husband, or just something to claim?

If I stayed like this, or if I let this go further, the scent of him would be deep in my skin, in the sheets, in the very air of the room. The maids wouldn't have to guess anymore.

Could I risk it? 

The question hung in the dark. Every time he shifted, the friction sent a jolt of alarm through me, but it also hammered home the reality of my situation. I needed Eilis' scent on me but didn't want to go further, I could risk it and end up calling out the wolf. But what if I didn't?

I looked at the line of his throat, so close I could have reached out and touched the vein pulsing there. He was deep in sleep,

I made a choice.

Slowly, agonizingly so, I stopped trying to pull away. Instead of tensing my muscles to keep a distance, I let my weight settle. I leaned into him, my thigh pressing more firmly against the hardness of his. 

I could feel the heat of him soaking into my skin, the scent of woodsmoke and pine filling my senses until it was all I could breathe.

The movement against me changed. Now that there was no resistance, the instinctive rhythm of his body became more pronounced. I felt the rough texture of his sleep-clothes and the heavy, insistent pressure of his dick against my leg. 

My heart was racing so fast I thought I might faint, but I forced myself to stay still. I needed the sheets to be mussed. 

I needed his scent to be unmistakable on my skin, tangled in my hair, and embedded in the furs.

I was playing a dangerous game with a sleeping Alpha.

A low, guttural sound rumbled in Eilis's chest, it was a deep, subconscious hum of satisfaction as he felt the contact. 

He shifted in his sleep, his arm moving instinctively. The heavy weight of his hand landed on the small of my back, his fingers curling into the fabric of my nightshirt, pulling me even closer until there wasn't a breath of air between us.

I bit my lip to keep from gasping. His touch was scorching. If he woke up now, there would be no explaining this away. He would find his "bride" draped over him, encouraging the very thing he had promised to restrain.

I closed my eyes tight, the darkness behind my lids swirling with images of the claiming night. I was terrified, but as the minutes ticked by and the heat of him enveloped me, a strange, numb exhaustion started to take over. I had done it. 

The scent would be there. The lie was reinforced.

Now, all I had to do was pray I could get back to my side of the bed before the sun rose and the man—or the wolf—opened his eyes.

When I next opened my eyes, the room was no longer draped in total darkness. A thin, pale sliver of grey light was beginning to bleed through the heavy curtains, signaling the approach of dawn.

Panic flared in my chest.

Eilis’s arm was still hooked around me, his fingers firmly anchored in the silk of my nightshirt. He hadn't moved, but his breathing had changed; it was lighter now, the deep pull of heavy sleep giving way to the restless shift of someone nearing wakefulness. 

The friction against my leg had stopped, but the proximity was still damning.

I had to move, now.

I began the slow, agonizing process of extricating myself. I moved inch by inch, sliding my hip back while praying the mattress wouldn't groan. Every time his fingers twitched against my back, I froze, holding my breath until my lungs burned.

Slowly, I eased his hand off me, gently placing his arm back onto his side of the bed. I felt the loss of his heat instantly, the morning chill of the room biting at my skin where he had been pressed against me.

I scrambled to the very edge of my side, pulling the furs up to my chin. I checked my reflection in the dim light of the vanity mirror across the room. My hair was a mess, my nightshirt was wrinkled, and I knew, even without being able to see it or smell it, that I was covered in him. 

I lay there, staring at the canopy, my heart finally slowing down to a dull thud.

Minutes later, Eilis stirred. 

I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep, my ears tracking every sound. I heard the rustle of the furs as he sat up, the heavy thud of his feet hitting the floor, and a long, low exhale that sounded suspiciously like a groan.

I felt his gaze on me. It was heavy and lingering. For a terrifying second, I wondered if he knew what I had done. 

"Raven," he said, his voice a gravelly rasp in the quiet room.

I didn't answer, I didn't dare. I just kept my breathing even.