Chapter 59: "Closer To Me"
The quiet corridors were bathed in the warm amber glow of evening lights.
Caio walked several steps ahead of Aren, his hand still wrapped firmly around her wrist as he guided her through the estate.
He had remained unusually quiet ever since they parted ways with Daria, and what had begun as visible irritation seemed to have dissolved back into his usual composure.
Little did Aren know, the irritation had not disappeared at all.
It had merely gone underground. His expression remained calm, almost detached, but beneath that flawless exterior an endless internal debate continued to churn.
’Should I give her more time?’
’Try to convince her?’
The memory of Aren practically lighting up whenever Jordan spoke to her flashed through his mind again, sharp enough to reignite every possessive impulse he possessed.
’No fucking way.’
’There’s no way I’m losing her to that punk.’
’I need to make her more comfortable with me.’
’Closer to me.’
When they passed the corridor leading back toward the dining hall, Caio walked straight past it without hesitation.
Aren glanced up at him in confusion.
For a moment, she wondered whether he had simply missed the turn or become too distracted to notice. If they continued down this route, they would end up in the west wing where both of their suites were located.
Curious, she quickened her pace until she was walking beside him.
"Don Caio," she asked softly, "are we not going back to the dining hall?"
"The ice cream is already melting," he replied without slowing. "I asked the staff to put it away."
"Oh..."
The disappointment in her voice was immediate.
"Then... are we returning to rest?"
"Yes."
His answer was simple.
"We’re heading back."
Aren immediately increased her pace, assuming he was exhausted after a long day and wanting to get him back to his suite as quickly as possible.
By now, Biscuit was probably asleep. Earlier, the little dog had been so tired that she had tucked him into bed before going downstairs for dinner.
Soon they reached the staircase leading to the upper floor. The two suites occupied the entire level, positioned opposite one another at the end of the long corridor.
Their footsteps echoed softly through the otherwise empty space as they climbed.
When they reached the top, Aren turned toward Caio with a small smile.
"You must have had a very long day," she said warmly. "Please rest early. Good night."
Despite her farewell, Caio’s hand remained firmly around her wrist.
He didn’t release her. Instead, he stood perfectly still and looked down at her with eyes as still and unreadable as deep water.
Finally, he released a slow breath.
When he finally spoke, Aren thought she saw the faintest hint of color beneath the pale skin of his cheeks.
"Remember when I told you there were still things I wanted to do with you?"
His voice emerged low and soft, carrying far more meaning than the simple words themselves.
Aren blinked up at him.
For a moment, the corridor went silent, save for the sound of their breathing.
His words brought up the memory fast — the warmth of his lap beneath her, the closeness of his body, the way he had held her. Aren’s cheeks gradually burned up through it all.
"I remember," she admitted quietly.
Caio didn’t hesitate.
"Do you want to do that now?"
He tilted his head toward his suite.
"In my room."
The invitation was no longer hidden behind implication. Neither was the look in his eyes.
Something hungry lingered there now, softened only by the restraint he was making a visible effort to maintain.
Aren bit lightly against her lower lip, suddenly nervous for reasons she didn’t quite understand.
Still, after a brief hesitation, she nodded.
"...Yes."
That was all Caio needed.
The faintest smile touched his lips.
"Come."
He led her toward the doors.
─ •✧• ─ ✿ ─ •✧• ─
Inside, the room was quiet.
The low hum of the air conditioner drifted through the darkness while Caio adjusted the temperature controls.
Beyond the balcony doors, moonlight spilled across the floor in pale silver pools, mixing with the warm glow of the single lamp beside the bed.
Throughout it all, he never released her hand. Slowly, patiently, he guided her farther into the room until they reached the edge of the bed.
"Aren."
He settled onto the edge of the bed and looked up at her.
"Sit with me."
She nodded and stepped forward.
The intention had been to sit beside him. Instead, the moment she lowered herself, a gentle tug on her hand sent her tumbling forward.
"Ah—"
A small sound of surprise escaped her as she landed across his thighs.
Instinctively, her free hand flew to his shoulder to steady herself. Just as she scrambled to push herself up, she felt a large hand slide up her back — gentle, unyielding — guiding her forward until her chin rested on his shoulder and her chest pressed against his own.
For a moment, Aren simply froze.
She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Feel the warmth of his body beneath her hands. Feel the strength hidden within the arm wrapped securely around her waist.
"Don Caio?" Aren called out.
"Just Caio tonight."
The correction came gently.
"You aren’t on duty right now."
His voice lowered further.
"Not after you walked through those doors."
The hand on her back began tracing slow circles — comforting circles.
The heat from his palm seeped easily through the fabric between them, but somehow it still felt less distracting than the warmth of his neck against her cheek.
"...Okay."
A small, unsteady breath escaped her.
Carefully, she leaned back just enough to look at him. Her eyes trembled with visible shyness as she tested his name for the first time.
"...Caio."
For the briefest moment, Aren found herself wondering whether this was what he had meant by "intimate" during their very first contract discussion.
Speaking his name without the title felt strangely significant, as though some invisible distance between them had quietly vanished.
Judging by his reaction, Caio felt it too.
She could feel the tension leaving his shoulders beneath her hands. Could see something vulnerable flicker briefly across his features, softening the severe lines of his face into an expression of quiet satisfaction.
His gaze drifted slowly over her features, lingering longest on her lips. When they finally lifted to meet hers again, they carried an intensity she still couldn’t fully understand.
Without overthinking it, Aren leaned forward.
"Caio?"
His breath caught.
"Yes?"
"I want to kiss you."
Caio barely had time to react.
A small breath of surprise escaped him before her lips had already found his.
The effect was immediate. Caio froze completely, his eyes widening as he felt the warmth of her breath against his mouth.
His lips remained motionless beneath hers, and every muscle in his body — the shoulders supporting her weight, the hands holding her, the thigh steadying her where she sat across his lap — locked tight until he felt carved from stone.
The lapse lasted only a few seconds.
As Aren pressed a soft kiss to his lower lip and tugged gently at it, repeating something she had learned from their previous encounter, whatever restraint remained inside him finally gave way.
His mouth claimed hers completely.
His tongue slid between her lips with a confidence that made her chest hitch.
His breathing roughened, turning deep and uneven as the kiss became relentless, unyielding, and desperately hungry — as though he had been thinking about nothing else since they had been interrupted the day before.
He teased her lower lip with a soft pull, coaxing her to open for him.
The moment she complied, he drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking gently as though savoring the taste of her.
Aren could do nothing but follow his lead. Her thoughts dissolved beneath the overwhelming sensation as he guided her through the kiss, the wet sounds of their mouths filling the space between them.
"That’s right, Aren," he murmured between shared breaths. "Don’t be shy."
"Hm— mmph..."
The uncertain sound that escaped her was soft and hesitant, but it only seemed to encourage him further.
Within moments, his hands had broken free from their rigid restraint and begun roaming hungrily over her body, touching her in the exact places they always wandered to in his thoughts.
Aren noticed the difference immediately.
The previous night, he had held her almost rigidly at the waist, as though terrified of crossing some invisible boundary.
Tonight, however, his fingers were demanding. Searching. They slid lower to explore the curve of her hips, threatening to slip beneath the thin silk of her shirt.
His other hand traveled up her side, tracing the line of her ribcage.
His palm lingered dangerously close beneath the swell of her breast, only moments away from cupping the softness there.
Caio stopped himself at the last second.
The kiss broke without warning.
Drawing in a sharp breath, he steadied himself and guided her upright. Both hands settled firmly on her shoulders as he searched her face with intense urgency.
"Aren," he said, serious now, "I want to touch you. Not just hold you the way I did yesterday."
A brief hesitation followed.
"Will you let me?"
Aren tilted her head.
"You mean... more than just kissing?"
"Yes."
He swallowed.
"I want to make you feel even better than this."
