𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 |𝟏𝟖+

Chapter 67 | The Devil's gentle touch

Warmth shifts beneath me, and I stir. Ugh, I'm real groggy and heavy-limbed. But even in this state I know my face is buried in the crook of Dimitri's neck, although I don't remember how I got like this. My arm is draped over his bare chest, my hand pressed lightly to his ribs. My leg rests lazily across his torso, and I know, even half-asleep, that I'm cocooned in him.

But he's moving.

A whimper slips past my lips before I can stop it. No, don't leave me. I try to cling to him, my fingers weakly grasping at his solid frame. Please stay.

"Shh, baby," I hear him murmur with his raspy morning voice. Although I can't open my eyes I know that the room is still pitch black. How impossibly early is it? His large hand glides over my back in slow strokes, coaxing me to relax. "I'm just gonna go to the gym for a while."

What..a..lame..ass..reason.. whaat?

You don't need gym. You are seriously the one person in the world that doesn't hecking need it.

Expecially not when it's still dark outside.

I barely have the energy to let out a frustrated huff, few slight shakes of my head should let him know I don't appreacite this. I snuggle closer in his neck, ready to go back to sleep. Just stay.

But I feel him shift again, the deep rumble of his breath vibrating against my cheek where it's pressed to his collar bone. His hand moves to my hair, his fingers tangling gently in the strands. "Just go back to sleep, little girl. I'll come back before you wake."

How can he just leave? Selfish baboon...

I hum softly, my noise somewhere between protest and surrender, but I guess I should stop resisting before he starts calling me by my name and we get into a really unnecessary fight.

His hand cups the back of my head, pulling me closer for a moment. Although I want to stay like this and argue about him abandoning me, I can feel my body giving in to the exhaustion weighing me down.

I let him guide me as he gently untangles me from him. The loss of his warmth is immediate and I don't freaking like it, but he is pretty quick to tuck the blankets up to my chin, his hand brushing softly over my cheek. "Mm, good girl," he murmurs, his lips grazing my temple.

The last thing I feel is his hand smoothing over my hair one final time before he steps away. And then the world goes quiet again.

*

The soft shuffle of footsteps and the faint sound of running water pull me from sleep. My eyelids feel like lead as I groggily groan, stretching beneath the warm covers. Tingles are caused from my nipples brushing against the fabric, reminding me I'm bare naked. The sun is now streaming through the curtains and it's making my skin feel overly warm.

Uh, time to wake up. Sadly. I rub at my eyes and blink to adjust to the light, but I didn't expect to be wincing at the soreness radiating from my throat when I swallow.

My throat.. it's so sore. And I know exactly whose fault that is. I will murder that Russian ass one day...

I do blush as the memories start creeping in though. Giving him blow job was a very big step for me and I actually liked it. Well, not being allowed to breathe, I didn't like that much, but overall it was good. More than good.

The pain feels like the start of a cold, it's dry, raw, and a little bit throbbing. I instinctively touch my neck, but can't swallow a quiet whimper that escapes me. Which is quite funny, realizing I can barely swallow my saliva. Ha, cool.

The whimper must've carried, though, because a moment later, I hear the heavy footsteps that could only belong to the very person responsible for my state.