Alexia’s POV:
The mont I swung my legs off the bed and placed my feet on the floor, I regretted every decision I had made in the last twelve hours.
A sharp ache shot through my thighs, making wince as I pushed myself up. My body protested, my muscles sore in places I didn’t even know could be sore.
God.
I was walking funny.
Like, really funny.
I barely took three steps before my knees wobbled, and I had to grip the nearest surface to keep from stumbling.
Aiden’s deep chuckle filled the room.
I froze, my entire body heating up as I realized he was watching from the bed.
I turned my head slowly, eting his gaze. He was lying there, shirtless, his ssy hair making him look sinfully good even though it was barely morning. His lips curled into a smug smirk as he dragged his eyes down my body.
"Need help, Princess?" His voice was all lazy amusent, and I hated how my stomach flipped at the way he said it.
"No," I snapped, yanking the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around before taking another unsteady step toward the bathroom.
His smirk widened. "You sure? Because you’re walking like—"
"Don’t." I cut him off, glaring over my shoulder.
I already knew exactly why I was walking like this. No need for him to remind .
Still, he didn’t stop watching , his eyes dark with satisfaction.
I ignored him and made it to the bathroom, gripping the counter as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My lips were swollen. My skin was littered with faint red marks—evidence of his mouth, his hands, his teeth.
I groaned, running a hand over my face.
Last night had been reckless. Stupid.
And yet...
A shiver ran down my spine as flashes of the night before—and this morning—hit all at once.
The way he had touched .
The way he had looked at .
The way he had made fall apart over and over again, whispering my na like it was the only thing that mattered.
My breath hitched.
No.
This was just sex. That was the deal.
No emotions. No attachnts.
I turned on the shower, letting the steam fog up the mirror as I stepped in. The warm water rushed over my sore muscles, soothing the ache between my legs, but it did nothing to wash away the mories.
And the worst part?
I didn’t want them to fade.
I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles of the shower, letting the water cascade down my body. My muscles still ached, a deep soreness settling into every inch of , but it wasn’t just my body that felt the weight of last night and this morning.
It was my mind, too.
I can’t believe I agreed to this.
To him.
To getting intimate with Aiden of all people.
I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would sohow erase the way he made feel—like I was sothing to be worshiped, like he wanted to consu whole.
But it was just sex.
It had to be just sex.
I had agreed to this arrangent, knowing full well that emotions had no place in it. That was the deal—pleasure without feelings, indulgence without attachnt.
So why did my chest tighten at the thought of him still lying in bed, his body tangled in the sheets we ruined together?
Why did I crave his touch even now, when I should be thinking about anything else?
I groaned, pressing my fingers against my temples.
No. This was nothing.
Just sex.
And I hoped—no, I needed—my heart to understand that.
Aiden’s POV
I leaned against the bedroom doorfra, arms crossed over my chest, watching as Alexia walked—no, wobbled—toward the bathroom. A smug smirk tugged at my lips as I took in the way she moved, her steps slow, thighs trembling slightly with each one.
She was sore.
Good.
Maybe now she’d finally realize what it ant to agree to this arrangent with .
"Need so help?" I teased, my voice thick with amusent.
She froze for a split second, her back straightening as if she could sohow will away the soreness. "I’m fine," she gritted out, not even sparing a glance before she continued her not-so-normal walk toward the bathroom.
I chuckled, pushing off the doorfra and stretching. "Sure you are, sweetheart."
She slamd the bathroom door in response.
I ran a hand through my hair, still smirking as I made my way to the dresser to grab a shirt. But as I reached for it, my eyes flickered to the mirror—where I caught sight of the deep, dark hickey blooming across the side of her neck.
My smirk widened.
So that’s what Professor Sinclair would be seeing today.
Perfect.
I wasn’t blind. I’d seen the way he looked at her yesterday. And as much as Alexia pretended it was nothing, I knew better. The way the professor’s gaze softened whenever it landed on her, the way she flustered under his attention—it pissed off more than it should have.
But that mark on her neck? The way she could barely walk straight?
That was all the proof he needed that she wasn’t available.
That she belonged to .
By the ti Alexia erged from the bathroom, she had composed herself—mostly. She still walked with a slight hesitation in her steps, but she was trying hard to pretend she wasn’t sore. I found it amusing, but I didn’t call her out on it.
Not yet.
Instead, I pulled out a chair at the dining table and gestured to it. "Sit."
She eyed warily, no doubt suspicious of my sudden attentiveness. "I can pull out my own chair, Aiden."
I smirked. "I know you can. But after last night—and this morning—you should probably conserve your energy."
Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and she quickly dropped her gaze, muttering sothing under her breath as she sat down. I let out a low chuckle as I moved to fix us breakfast.
For once, the silence between us wasn’t tense.
It was... sothing else.
Comfortable. Dangerous.
I wasn’t used to feeling like this with her—with anyone. But I didn’t hate it.
As I placed her plate in front of her, I leaned down, close enough for my lips to brush against her ear. "Eat up, sweetheart. You’ll need the strength."
She shot a glare but picked up her fork anyway, stabbing at her food like it had personally offended her. I just smirked, enjoying her reaction way too much.
The car ride was... different.
Normally, we’d sit in silence, or maybe exchange a few sarcastic remarks. But today, I kept stealing glances at her, watching the way she nervously played with the hem of her skirt, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to say sothing but couldn’t.
My hand drifted from the wheel, reaching over to rest on her thigh.
She tensed. "Aiden—"
"Relax," I murmured, my fingers tracing slow circles against her skin. "You’re acting all nervous. What’s on your mind?"
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Nothing."
I arched a brow. "Liar."
She turned to face the window, but I caught the way her hand ghosted over the mark I left on her neck, as if trying to hide it.
My grip on her thigh tightened possessively.
"You’re not thinking of covering it up, are you?"
She stiffened. "Why wouldn’t I?"
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. "Because I want people to see it."
She shot a look. "You’re ridiculous."
"No, sweetheart. I’m territorial." I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "And I want that professor of yours to know you spent the night in my bed. That you woke up sore because of ."
Her breath hitched, and she quickly turned away again, but not before I caught the way her thighs pressed together.
Good.
I pulled up to the campus gate and parked, but before she could escape, I reached over and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at .
"Don’t forget who you belong to, Alexia."
And before she could argue, I kissed her—slow and deep, making sure she felt every ounce of my possessiveness, every unspoken emotion I wasn’t ready to admit.
When I finally pulled away, she was breathless, her lips slightly swollen, her fingers still gripping my shirt.
I smirked. "Have a good day, sweetheart."
And with that, I let her go.
For now.
Alexia’s POV
Aiden was acting weird.
Not his usual brooding, cold, and infuriating self. No, this was different. This was possessive—borderline affectionate—and it was throwing completely off balance.
I pressed my fingers against my lips as I stepped out of the car, still feeling the heat from his kiss.
What the hell was that?
He had kissed before, sure. But this ti? This ti, it felt like sothing else.
Like a claim.
I hated how my heart was racing. How my knees still felt weak from the way he touched , from the way his voice had wrapped around like silk when he whispered, Don’t forget who you belong to, Alexia.
Who I belong to?
I scoffed under my breath, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. I don’t belong to anyone.
But as I walked through campus, I caught my reflection in the window of one of the buildings.
My fingers imdiately flew to my neck.
Shit.
The hickey.
The very obvious, dark, impossible-to-hide mark that Aiden very intentionally left on .
I had been too distracted by his strange behavior to rember to cover it up well before I left the house. Now I was walking into campus—into Professor Sinclair’s class—with a visible reminder of Aiden all over my skin.
I could practically hear his smug voice in my head. Let them see it.
Ugh!
I should’ve been annoyed. I should’ve been furious!
Instead, I was... flustered.
God, I hated him for that.
As I walked into class, Lucy imdiately spotted and waved over, grinning like she had way too much energy this early in the morning.
And then her eyes landed on my neck.
"Oh. My. God." She gasped dramatically, grabbing my arm and pulling down into the seat next to her. "Tell everything."
"There’s nothing to tell," I muttered, flipping open my notebook and pretending to be extrely interested in absolutely nothing.
Lucy wasn’t buying it. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, co on, Alexia. That mark on your neck? That’s sothing to tell. That’s juicy."
I groaned. "It’s not—"
And then I made the mistake of looking up.
Because standing at the front of the class was Professor Sinclair.
And he was staring at .
Not at Lucy. Not at the other students. At .
And the mont his gaze flickered to my neck, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he schooled his expression back into sothing unreadable.
Kill now.
Lucy, of course, noticed everything. She practically vibrated in her seat as she whispered, "Ohhh, now this is interesting."
I sighed, slumping slightly in my chair.
Aiden was definitely up to sothing.
And I had no idea how to handle it.
Reviews
All reviews (0)