I Am The Luna

ADRIANA

"Then take it off," I say quietly, wanting to look away but unable to.

He undoes the buttons, and I fight the urge to get onto my knees and help him tear it right off.. He removes it and my gaze dips to where I had bandaged him up. He's pretty much healed, the wound is still red, but it's closed, by morning it would probably be ok.

He sure removed the dressing fast.

"Didn't like your perfect body covered with band-aids?" I mock.

He raises an eyebrow as he tosses the shirt onto the bench at the end of my bed, and I try not to ogle his bare torso.

"I showered and I think I'm healing well."

We both look at his wound again, but I'm distracted by his perfect abs. There's a thin trail of hair that begins from beneath his belly button and disappears into his pants.

"Yeah, you are," I say, trying not to stare.

But the moment he begins to undo that belt quickly and precisely with one hand, sliding it right out, I realise how damn sexy that move actually is....

I press my legs together as I look away, and he wraps the belt around his hand. Something about that move makes my core throb, my gaze dipping to the front of his pants.

"Looks like you can do a lot with that belt," I remark, kicking myself internally.

He looks down at me. "Definitely," he replies. His eyes meet mine for a second before tossing it on top of his shirt.

I wouldn't mind him tying me up.

I push the thought away.

Fuck, I won't be able to focus on anything with him beside me. But then again that's what I want, I don't want my dark thoughts to consume me.

He lies down beside me and slips his arm under my head. I close my eyes as I roll onto my right and snuggle into his chest, biting my lip when our skin touches.

An intense surge of pleasure rushes through me. My lips part as my breath hitches and I'm relieved he can't see my face right now.

I slowly open my hands, placing them flat against his abs, loving the way his body tenses and I feel him flex under my

80 DA

fingertips. I smile softly.

He makes me forget... even if it's fleeting; he consumes my mind and right now, that's what I need.. even if it's just temporary.....

Neither of us speaks, neither of us sleeping, both simply laying there in one another's arms. I'm not sure how long we lay like that, but his hand continues to caress my arm and back soothingly, and soon that steady rhythm lulls me into a stupor.

Comfort, hope, and safety wrap around me.

I stretch as I adjust my position before rolling onto my left, my back now against his chest. He instantly pulls me against him, his arms wrapped around me tightly.

"Goodnight, Angel" I think I hear him whispering before sleep that has forsaken me for the last 40-plus hours now pulls me into its fold....

My eyes open to the sound of growls in the distance.

Training....

Fuck, training.

I wriggle deeper into my warm cocoon when I pause, feeling something hard against my ass, and no one needs to tell me what that is...Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

I bite my lip, trying not to get turned on any more than I am. He's still sleeping behind me, his head resting behind mine, his arms still wrapped around me tightly.

My heart thumps and I slowly readjust my position, trying not to rub my thighs against one another.

What am I even doing? Clinging to something so desperately even when he didn't want me. Right?

Then why is he trying? Why did he cook for me or bring me flowers?

Heck, I've never gotten flowers in my life from anyone aside from the flower or two Ada would give me on my birthday, that she'd pluck from outside.

Ada, you'd like Atticus. I know you would have. He fits your image of the perfect man. If she was here right now, she'd have told me to make an effort, to show him that I'm everything he'd want.

I might not be one of those perfect princesses, but I don't want to be one either, because I'm pretty damn decent as I am.

I slowly remove his arm from my waist and sit up, looking at him over my shoulder as I wrap my gown around me properly. He rolls onto his back, placing his arm above his head on the pillow. I glance at his obvious hard-on, smirking at the size. Well, damn, is he big...

The urge to touch it tempts me, but I'm not about to assault him in his sleep. I'm sure Mr Perfect might just get pissed. Smiling, I get out of bed although I want to stay there; I want to visit Ada again. I tip-toe to the other side and look at the large bouquet which he must have moved to my desk last night and brush my fingers along the flowers.