Page 97

“Take the folder and get out,” Orien snaps.

William salutes. “Call me if you start to feel feverish or nauseous.” His eyes meet mine for a brief moment. “Try to rest. Your body needs time to recover.”

He’s gone before I can respond, the door clicking shut behind him.

Orien’s arm slips around my waist, tugging me closer until my back rests against his chest. His nose nuzzles the back of my neck, over the Marks, and his rumble of contentment vibrates through me.

My body melts in response, and I go limp within his hold. Every muscle aches, my inner thighs tender where they brush together, my hips sore from the way Orien held me open. The sensation of him refuses to fade, as if his cock might still be inside me, stuffing me full.

Orien’s hand strokes up my side, fingers tracing each rib with careful attention. “You need to rest.”

I snuggle into him, surprised by this new, tender version of my Alpha.

After a few minutes, where I almost fall asleep, I rally to ask, “Did you mean the folder that was in my jacket?”

Orien’s hand stills on my stomach. “Yes.”

I should be angry that he went through my belongings while I was passed out. Should bristle at the presumption, the invasion of privacy.

But I can’t muster the emotion, not when I’d planned to give him the folder, anyway. “Did you read it?”

“I did,” he confirms.

I turn in his arms, wincing as my muscles protest the movement. “You need to know that it could be a plant. This whole thing is a test of my loyalty as much as it’s about taking down the Blue Note.”

“I already thought of that, and we’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Orien’s hand moves to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Today is for us.”

My throat tightens at the simple statement. Today is for us, with no guarantee of a tomorrow. No guarantee that the Marks on my neck are enough to protect us from what’s coming.

“But—”

His thumb covers my lips, silencing me. “No buts. No planning. No thinking about what comes next. Just us, right now.”

I want to argue. Want to point out that the family is already moving, and that every hour we wait is another hour they have to execute their plan.

But then Orien’s hand slides down my stomach, fingers tracing the line of hair that disappears beneath the sheet, and my body responds to my Alpha. My hips shift, seeking contact, and my breath catches.

“Please,” I say, the word coming out ragged. “I need⁠—”

“I know what you need,” Orien murmurs, and his hand moves lower.

I gasp at the contact, my over-sensitized body responding with embarrassing eagerness. My dick hardens in his grip, the slide of his palm sending sparks of pleasure through me despite the bone-deep exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

I open my legs, giving him better access, needing to reconfirm our bond despite the ache in my body. Because nothing past this moment is guaranteed. Not the family’s forgiveness, not the Blue Note’s protection, not even our lives if the confrontation goes badly.

But this, the connection between us, the trust that lets me fall apart in his hands… This is real. This is mine.

“Stop worrying.” Orien’s mouth finds mine, kissing me with a gentleness that belies the firm grip of his hand. “I’m not letting you go.”

His hand moves between my legs, toying with my balls and stroking my perineum before he seeks out my entrance, slick with desire. And as he slowly brings me back to the edge of pleasure despite everything my body’s been through, I believe him.

I’m just not sure it will be enough.

26

It’s easier to pretend the world doesn’t exist when Orien’s wrapped around me in bed.

Harder when he’s guiding me through the Blue Note with one hand on the small of my back while people track the fresh mating Marks peeking above the collar of my sweater.