He guides me out of the MedBay with one hand on my back. I don’t look over my shoulder, but I can feel Darius watching us as the doors close.
A while later, we reach my quarters. Idris opens the door with his palm on the reader and waits for me to step inside first.
“Em,” he speaks delicately, “lie down.”
As soon as I sit, my vision swims. Idris kneels in front of me. His hands rest on my knees, thumbs rubbing through the fabric of my pants.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispers.
“Nothing,” I answer.
He smiles a little. “You’re not very convincing, Em.”
My face feels warm. My throat feels tight. I try looking at the floor, but Idris lifts one hand to my chin, guiding my focus back to him.
“You deserve to rest, Em,” he whispers. “You deserve every good thing in the world.”
I breathe in slowly. It shakes on the way out. I’m not sure what he’s trying to say. The idea is impossible to achieve.
He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh. “You’re holding tension everywhere,” he says. “Let me help.”
I should tell him I don’t need the help. I should tell him I can lie down by myself. Instead, my body follows the warmth of his mouth on my inner thigh as he guides me onto the bed, my head meeting the pillow.
His hands remove my pants and underwear. Once they’re off, his lips latch onto my sensitive bud. It throbs to the feel of his tender tongue.
“Idris…” I whisper, not sure if it comes out more as a whimper than a warning.
Either way, it does nothing to deter him. “I know, Em,” he murmurs against my wet heat. “All you need to do is breathe for me.”
His warm tongue laps at my folds, coaxing moans out of me.
“Doing so good, Em,” he whispers before his tongue traces a tantalizing line upwards.
Shivers run down my spine. I’m surprisingly so close already to reaching my peak.
His finger circles my clenching core. I feel his moan on my mound. More warmth spreads, tightening inside me until my body releases the last tremor of resistance.
When it does, Idris kisses me there a few more times, leaving a lingering trail of pleasure.
“Rest, Em,” he murmurs.
My last conscious feeling is the slow weight of his hand resting on my hip. Then everything goes quiet and dark.
***
Sleep doesn’t last. My body wakes me abruptly, hot and slick with sweat. My shirt clings to my skin. A drop rolls from my temple to my jaw. I push my hair back and feel how damp the strands are.
My hand searches for the nightstand until I find my glasses. The metal frame is cooler than my fingers. Once I put them on, the clock sharpens into view. It reads 4:44 a.m.
Rather early for my biological clock. Still, I sit up.
The sheets are twisted around my legs. I must’ve been tossing in my sleep.
There’s also this pressure between my ribs that won’t settle. I try to breathe through it. But my chest rises too fast, then stalls.
Idris isn’t beside me. The space is cold where he should be. My stomach twists while I untangle the sheets from my legs.
I stand and change clothes since the sweat’s starting to chill uncomfortably on my skin. The fresh fabric drags across me. But my mind wanders to why I’ve woken up far too warm.
