Chapter 80: Patience, Principessa
- RAYA -
We continue talking until the tea has long gone cold, and then Dex gives me a soft, thoughtful smile.
"You look tired, principessa," he says in that deeply seductive voice, and I realize he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Apparently sexy is just second nature for him. "I think I have kept you up too long."
"I have changed my mind," I yawn, covering it with my hand. Why did he have to remind me that I’m tired? "You are not all owed to call me that either."
"I’m not?"
"No, not until you tell me the word." My yawn ends and my eyes are watery, and he gets up from the couch with a huff of breathy laughter that crinkles his eyes.
"I will," he says, the deep voice smoothly transitioning from sexy to reassuring. It has the ability to make me believe him and releases all of my fears at the same time, and then he offers me his hand. "Come on. It seems the tea worked, and it’s time for bed."
That makes me groan for some reason like he’s an adult sending a child to her room, but I take his hand and grimace when my side hurts with the swift movement of standing.
"Are you okay?" Dex frowns and holds me by the waist like he’s afraid I might fall over.
"Yes, thank you," I chuckle at our two rules being broken simultaneously. But it only manages to briefly tip his mouth toward a smile. The worried expression doesn’t change.
"Seriously, though," he says. "Did we do too much today?"
"No," I shake my head with a frown that matches his. "I just haven’t been taking that medicine. It’s fine. It’s manageable. I don’t want to have to continue taking it."
He groans with a judgmental look before leading me toward the bedroom, my hand still in his.
"It’s going to be sore. That’s just the nature of healing. It’s not like there’s anything actually wrong. The area looks fine. I feel fine. There’s no infection. Everything is fine..." I keep saying until we make it upstairs to the hallway that ends with his closed door.
I feel bad. I have neglected to spend any time with Moira Rose, and she’s been locked up in that bedroom. I mean, Dex’s bedroom is a large space. If there were any room I had to be locked in, it would definitely be Dex’s bedroom. I would just prefer that he was also in it with me.
When we enter, Moira meows loudly and trots over. I’m too sore to bend to pick her up, so I walk around the bed and lay down, letting her jump up and sniff my face to investigate where I’ve been. I wonder what I smell like... like the baptism of the wind from our motorcycle ride? Like a massive burger from a cute diner? Like flowers and tea? Like the magic of conversation that is slowly assuring me this man is no longer just a dream?
Dex chuckles at Moira from where his closet is and pulls off his shirt, completely stealing my attention from the sweet investigations of my kitty so that I can instead admire his torso and how beautifully sculpted it is. He turns to grab a different shirt that is apparently more appropriate for sleeping, and I’m allowed to watch the roll of all the muscles... in his back, his shoulders, his arms. Something so simple like grabbing a shirt, and so many muscles are required for it.
When he grabs some shorts next, my eyebrows shoot up expectantly, but he turns and sees me staring and walks into the bathroom with a wicked smile.
"Are you serious?" I call after him, my question slipping in behind him before he closes the door.
I groan and collapse on the pillow, shaking my head, rolling my eyes, but also unable to hold back soft laughter. I’m not sure if he’s being noble and virtuous or if he’s just teasing me.
When he returns, he still has that grin on his face, and he lays on the bed next to me with his head propped up on an arm.
"You know how sexy you are. It’s not fair."
"What’s not fair?" He chuckles and pats the space next to him, and I immediately scoot over closer.
"That you hide in the bathroom," I say quietly now that we are close and I feel his heat. It’s the most comforting thing I can recall... being close enough to feel him even without touch. There is an energy that surrounds him that feels like home, and it’s instantly calming.
Dex doesn’t answer, but he reaches up to caress my face and move strands of hair out of my eyes, and my eyes close at the gentle way he touches me. One finger lightly traces the curve of my face down to my chin, and then it descends to follow the slope of my neck. While my eyes are still closed, he kisses me so softly... with just a feathery touch of his lips.
My eyes open to see him gazing at me deeply again just like those dreams when we did nothing more than memorize each other’s faces. There’s something so intimate about just staring into another person’s eyes. You can exchange silent vows, share secrets without uttering a word, read the true intentions of the one letting you in.
Dex continues gazing at me like that, his hand still gliding along the surface of my skin until it reaches a spot on my neck that makes me shiver. And then he kisses me again—this time not so softly.
If there is a way to be cherished with a kiss, this is it. He’s slow and sweet, taking his time to taste and tease and tantalize with each nibble and shallow plunge of his tongue. And before I know it, I’m greedily tugging at his shirt, insisting that he take more and take it faster.
Dex smiles against my lips and chuckles, dropping his forehead against mine. How the hell is he so controlled?
"Patience, principessa," he coos, reaching up to caress my hair. "We have plenty of time."
