“Hmm?”
“You need to sleep.”
“Hmm.”
I stare at him, sleeping with his eyes half open, and inhale deeply. My anger just seems to dissipate entirely around him, because I feelnothing but concern as I reach forward and help him out of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about how the bed needs to be pulled out and I shush him.
I might as well get us settled in so I can sleep my anger and disappointment off. I would’ve rather done it after removing my makeup and brushing my teeth, but the bathroom is inside the bedroom, and, well, Priti’s claimed the space now.
God, she’s just so irritatingly immature sometimes!
Once Rudra’s jacket is discarded to the side, I reach down and pull his feet out of his boots. I place one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm, slowly helping him up. He protests and collapses against my side, but I hold him up, guiding him to the corner.
I make him stand there, leaning against the wall for support, and walk back to the sofa to pull out the bed. It takes a bit of effort, and the metal frame squeaks and groans in protest, but the bed springs out. When I’m beside Rudra again, he’s drifting in and out of slumber.
I gently guide him back to the bed and lay him down, adjusting his head on the pillow, his hair silken under my touch. There’s a blanket on a shelf below the glass table, so I grab that and spread it out on top of him, tucking the edges under his body so he’s snug inside.
He stirs, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes, and I look away, knowing if I look too long, I’ll probably end up doing something I will regret later.
I start to pull away, ready to walk to the other side and sleep as close to the corner as possible. But Rudra grasps my wrist, and a tiny current shoots through my arm and along my body.
“Krishna,” he whispers, stroking the inside of my wrist, eyes stillhalf closed. “Could you... Would it be too much to ask you to lie down with me?”
I stare at him, confused, his lean form curled up under the blanket, exuding warmth. “Iamgoing to lie down with—” My voice trails off when I realize he isn’t suggesting what I was already about to do. He’s suggesting I lie downcloseto him.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he says, his words tripping over one another. “You don’t have to.”
“Maybe for a bit,” I find myself saying, even though I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t...
I pull up the edge of the blanket and gingerly get in bed next to him. The springs creak under my weight and I drag some of the blanket up over myself. I turn my back to him, facing the glass windows staring out at the indigo night sky and sea. He’s so warm I automatically snuggle closer.
My back presses against his front, a kaleidoscope of butterflies thrashing around within my stomach. He lets out a gravelly sound, right into my ear, and my body trembles with how cozy and mellow he feels.
His arms hesitate behind me, and I grab them, hooking them around me, inching closer to him. My stomach is practically assaulted by sensation. A moan involuntarily rips from my throat, and Rudra reacts by brushing his lips against the nape of my neck, his breath sweeping over my skin.
I have never ever felt this way in my life. So out of control with my own body, incapable of establishing a connection between my brain and my limbs. Someother, fervent attraction, drawing me to him, is at force.
“I keep thinking about our kiss,” Rudra whispers, trailing kissesalong the back of my neck to the spot behind my ear.
“You need to sleep,” I whisper back, eyes shutting with pleasure.
“I can’t. Not with you so close to me.” His hand trails down my stomach, and I feel self-conscious, worried about my tummy and whether he hates it. But the thought doesn’t even seem to occur to him. He just wants to hold me. His fingers spread and rest right on top of it, the spot where the butterflies are going gaga.
My neck arches, giving him more space, and he kisses the curve of it. I readjust myself under him just slightly so his lips are now against my jaw, his kisses like the gentlest whispers of the wind. I shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be letting myself do this. But I can’t think beyond how well our bodies fit together under the blanket, legs tangling. I could spendweekslike this.
“How are you not already asleep?” I ask him as his lips pause under the curve of my cheekbone, both of us trying to catch a breath.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he says throatily. “Perhaps this wasn’t the best of ideas.” But there’s not an ounce of regret in his voice.
I adjust myself again, this time rolling over entirely so we’re lying facing each other. My arms slide around his waist to his back, and the muscles there flex under my touch. His lips brush my forehead and mine skim his neck. I tilt my head up to find him looking at me, eyes dark in the dim gold lights of the room.
“Rudra.”
“Krishna.”
“I should move away.”
“Why?”
