PRIMSYN
Iwake wrapped around Oliver, my face pressed against his chest, one leg thrown over his hip. His heartbeat is steady under my ear. His hand rests on my lower back, holding me even in sleep. We fit together perfectly, like two pieces that were always meant to connect.
So dangerous.
The thought whispers through my mind, but I push it away. I know it's dangerous. I've known it from the start. But lying here, sated and content in a way I've never experienced, I can't bring myself to care.
Oliver stirs beneath me, his hand tightening on my back. "You're still here," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
"I fell asleep." I tilt my head up to look at him. "I didn't mean to stay the whole night."
"I'm not complaining." His fingers trace lazy patterns on my spine. "Though your staff probably noticed you never returned to your chambers."
Reality crashes back in. "Fuck."
"Yeah." But he's smiling, a rare genuine smile that transforms his whole face. "Worth it though."
I smile back.
We lie there for a few more minutes, neither of us wanting to break the peaceful moment. But eventually I force myself to sit up, looking around for my discarded dress.
"I should go. Get cleaned up. Try to salvage some appearance of normalcy." I find the dress on the floor and slip it on. "Corvask is probably having a heart attack."
"Your steward does seem the worrying type." Oliver props himself up on his elbows, watching me. The sheet slides down to his waist, and I'm momentarily distracted by the planes of his chest, and the marks I left on his skin last night.
Mine. The thought is primal and possessive.
"I'll send breakfast," I tell him, trying to regain some semblance of control. "And later, maybe we can..."
"Have another inappropriate lunch?" He grins. "I'm starting to like these new feeding arrangements."
Heat floods through me at the memory of yesterday. "Behave."
"Why start now?"
I lean down to kiss him, intending it to be brief. But his hand comes up to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss until I'm breathless and considering crawling back into bed with him.
"I really do need to go," I manage when we finally break apart.
"I know." He releases me reluctantly. "Tonight?"
"Tonight," I confirm.
The walk back to my chamber feels like a march of shame and victory all at once. I pass servants who bow and avert their eyes as always, but I swear I can feel their judgment. They know. They must know.
Corvask is waiting for me, his expression carefully neutral in the way that means he's deeply concerned.
"Madam," he greets. "I trust you slept well?"
"Corvask." I meet his eyes steadily. "Say what you need to say."
He glances around, making sure we're alone, then steps closer. "Madam, I would never presume to judge your personal choices. But there is talk among the household staff. About you and the human."
"His name is Oliver."
"Yes. Oliver." He clears his throat. "Madam, you must understand how this appears. You're a widow of high standing, a member of elite society. If word spreads beyond these walls..."
"I know the risks." I push open my chamber door. "But I appreciate your concern."
