He rolls his eyes, still not looking at me as he pulls on his boots. “You’re welcome.”
The slickness between my thighs remains, and my embarrassment grows. Oh, my gods. I wasgrindingagainst him. It felt right during the dream. It even felt right afterward, when we first woke. But now…
“You…you got in bed with me? Naked?”
He plants his hands on his hips, jaw tight. “It wasn’t like that,” he says through his teeth. “You were fucking shivering. You needed heat. I gave you mine.”
“By wrapping your arms around me and feeling me up?”
Finally, he looks at me with a seething glare. “I would never touch you like that”—
I scoff. Never say never, because he fuckingdid.
—“without your consent.” His expression softens and his tone turns gentle. “I’m sorry, Inana. I wasn’t aware of what I was doing…whatwewere doing. I was…dreaming.”
The sincerity of his apology strikes me like a blow to the chest. I know I should yield. Give in to my mortification and admit I’m the one who was grinding against his cock.I’mthe one who was dreaming about him—
Wait.
“What do you mean you were dreaming?” I ask. I may have been dreaming about him, but who was he dreaming about? And why does the thought of him touching me while dreaming about someone else—even a nonexistent dream-stranger—make me so enraged? “What kind of perverted dream were you having that had you groping me in your sleep?”
His expression darkens all over again. “I could ask you the same, sinner.”
“I never said I was dreaming.”
“Oh?” He takes a step closer, lips lifting in a taunting smirk. “Were you awake, then, rolling your hips against my cock of your own accord? Did you cry out my name because you wanted me inside you? Because you wanted my touch?”
Fuck. He heard me shouting his name. This can’t get any more humiliating. My cheeks blaze as I fold my arms and feign nonchalance. “You think I’d everwantthat kind of touch from you?”
He stalks closer now, and I take a step back. “Yes, I think you do. I think, the next time you want my touch, you’re going to beg me for it, and you’re going to do it out loud, not in a dream.”
The blood leaves my face. Why does it seem like he knows what happened in my dream?
“You want to know what else I think?” he says. He holds my gaze as he takes another article of clothing hanging from the roots, then another, closing the distance between us with each step. “I think I wasn’t alone in that dream. And I think you liked it just as much as I did.”
“That’s not possible,” I say, huffing a shaky laugh. “How could we have the same dream?”
“It wasyourdream, and you should be grateful we shared yours and not mine. Because I don’t dream; I have nightmares. Again, you’re welcome for saving your damn life.” He steps into my space, leaving only inches between us. I suddenly feel naked all over again, with his chest still bare and mine covered only in my thin chemise. His shirt and jerkin are draped over one arm, but he’s made no move to don them. Meanwhile, my clothing remains hanging near the fire.
I smother the piece of me that wants to shy away and instead lift my chin, my chest, and step intohisspace. I bat my lashes. “Maybe you should be the one thanking me, then. We both know which one of us liked that dream more.”
My attention drifts down his chest until it lands on his waistband. It takes all my effort to shift my features into a sneer, to pretend I wasn’t impressed by what I saw.
As I return my gaze to his, I expect to see anger in his eyes. For his jaw to tighten. For him to be the one to make the first move to break the tension and walk away, just like he did when we awoke.
But he doesn’t.
His eyes glitter with some blend of mirth and malice, and he bares his canines in a seductive grin. Then, before I can react, he takes my chin between his fingers, tilts my face to his, and lowers his head. He stops with his mouth an inch away from mine, and my breath catches, my lips parting involuntarily. My heart speeds, and my nipples harden against the fabric of my chemise. Just like that, slick heat returns to my core.
“Yeah, Inana,” he whispers over my mouth, his breath skating over my lips. “You’re right. We both know which one of us liked it more.”
With that, he releases me and storms out the mouth of the cave.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dominic
I stop outside the cave, surrounded at once by a blanket of falling snow. Each flake melts into a puff of steam as soon as it touches my skin, but at least it manages to cool me down. I need it after this morning. After that dream.
