“You’re sexy when you’re not talking.” She squints, her gaze focused ahead. “Where are you taking me?”
“There’s a series of underground tunnels that are part of a larger network, leading from the fraternity to various buildings across campus.”
Delilah scrunches her face, and I resist the urge to kiss her. Everywhere. To say it’s been hard refraining from having sex with her is an understatement. It’s been absolute torture.
“What are the tunnels for?” she asks, oblivious to how close I am to fucking her mouth.
“They were designed for practicality, primarily serving as a means to facilitate movement across campus during less-than-ideal weather conditions. Specifically, the harsh winters this place is known for. We’ll gain access to them from the dungeons.”
She blinks but doesn’t stop walking. “Dungeons? I guess that isn’t unheard of in a castle. Have you ever been in one before?”
The various memories of me fighting for my life surface. “The initiation for the recruits was held down here.”
I pause. Delilah said she wanted to know about my past, which is the reason we’re heading to the tunnels in the first place, but I’m unsure how much to reveal to her, how much information would send her running.
“My father threw me into a cell more than once,” I say slowly. I keep my gaze locked on her face, waiting for her reaction. “He used it as part of my training to eventually join the Order.”
She nods. “The same training that resulted in the scars on your back?”
“Yes.”
“Your father is an asshole. Just saying.”
I smile at her show of loyalty. It might not be as deep as mine, but just seeing this tiny bit is enough to encourage me.
“He’s that and more. Let me know if I’m walking too fast for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re almost a foot taller than me. Of course you’re walking too fast, even on a good day. Just because I’m mobile doesn’t mean I’m ready for a long hike.”
“Or sex.”
I love manipulating a response from her. The way her cheeks flush and her breathing kicks up does it for me every time. I’m a masochist—in the end, I’m the one who suffers since she’s not ready for vigorous physical exertion.
The Order really fucked me by forcing me to stab her. The weeks it’ll take for her to recover might kill me. It’s like I’ve taken a vow of celibacy all over again, except this time, I lie next to the woman of my darkest fantasies every night without the ability to touch her.
Fucking brutal.
“Xavier, I?—”
I wave a hand, cutting her off. “Don’t worry, little raptor. Your pussy is safe from my cock. For now.”
She exhales, the sound full of exasperation. “Thank you for your understanding,” she deadpans. “Really, it means a lot.”
“It’s not like I have a choice. The doctor hasn’t cleared you, and you’re obviously not ready.” I wink at her. “Not yet, anyway.”
“It’s not like we can’t do other things…”
Her insinuation catches me off-guard. I stop and turn to face her, my gaze searching hers for confirmation. Delilah is strong-willed, but when it comes to sex, she has yet to take initiative. Her invitation leaves me unable to formulate a response. Well, a polite one.
Her blush from earlier deepens, painting her cheeks with a deep, rosy hue. Pushing through her embarrassment, she lifts her chin and holds my gaze. “What’s the matter, recruit? Pussy got your tongue?”
“I fucking wish.”
Now it’s her turn to be speechless. She openly gapes at me, and I laugh, tapping her on the nose. “Don’t play games you can’t win.”
She grins, her eyes shining with mischief. “Who says I’m losing?”
I grab her hand and shake my head. “Stop talking before I do something that’ll put you back in the infirmary.”
