I can’t read him, so I reach up and pull him down to me before he can overthink things too much.
He doesn’t rush, moving his hands over me like he wants to take his time. His mouth grazes my throat, then he kisses down to my collarbone, along the curve of my shoulder, and every inch of my body. Ares lifts slightly to pull down his sweats, then settles back between my legs. He eases himself inside me, and I stutter out a breath at the sheer size of him—Vero was not exaggerating.
“Ares,” I gasp out, overwhelmed by the feeling of utter fullness.
His every move is controlled, his focus entirely on me. It makes it hard to think straight as he reads every noise and the way my body responds to him and adjusts himself justright. Now I also understand something Vero told me about everyone on the island going to him; it’s because he makes you feel like you are the only thing that exists. He has learned you completely.
I dig my fingers into his back and stop myself from thinking about what any of this means. When I come apart, it’s slow and yet it hits everywhere at the same time. There’s no need for theatrics or yelling out his name. I whisper it reverently against his neck, just below his ear, and he shivers, then buries his face in my neck as he comes.
Several heartbeats later, Ares lifts his head and looks at me, then right before my eyes, all his walls go back up. He moves off me and sits on the edge of the bed with his back to me, and I give him a moment.
“That was...” he starts and then stops. “An inevitable conclusion to the circumstances.” I stare at the back of his head. “We have been in close proximity, and a physical response was statistically likely.”
I snort. “Statistically likely,” I repeat.
He turns to look at me over his shoulder, and his expression is neutral and gives me absolutely nothing. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
I sit up and reach for the shirt at the end of the bed, pulling it on. “It isn’t complicated,” I reply. “But since you just told me sleeping with me was a result of proximity and statistics, it’s not complicated, but it’s now weird.”
“I didn’t mean . . .”
“It’s fine, Ares.” I slide out of bed and find my camo pants from the night before folded on the bedside table. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m a big girl.”
He watches me but says nothing more as I pick up my boots. I take one last look at him sitting on the edge of his bed, watching me with those unreadable eyes.
“Thank you for patching me up,” I say and leave before he responds. I have had some weird one-night stands and awkward escape moments, but this probably takes the cake.
The hallway is empty when I step out of Ares’s room, which I am grateful for, until the door directly opposite opens and Clay steps out.
We both stop.
Clay looks at me, then at the door, then back to me.
“Don’t,” I warn him.
“I haven’t even said anything.”
“You were about to—I can see it written all over your face.”
The corner of his mouth moves, and I pin him with a glare.
“Ares’s shirt looks better on you than it does on him.”
I shake my head, and he falls into step beside me, his hands in the pockets of his sweats.
“Have you eaten?” he asks.
I look at him sideways. “Are you asking me to breakfast?”
He glances over at me. “I’m just asking if you’re hungry.”
“I haven’t eaten, so yes.”
“Then let’s go,” he says. It’s the same way he always says things, like he’s already decided and asking me was a formality.
Under normal circumstances, I would tell him to bite me, but I am hungry and don’t want to face Vero right now. He would know something is up. “Fine, but I am ordering whatever I want.”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t.”
