The Prototype

76. The Shattering

TEMPEST

My eyes slowly pierced open, my body surfacing through layers of silence. The room dim, the soft light of the outside security light filtering through the cracks of his dark curtains and spreading across the walls in a muted haze. The air in the bedroom warmer beneath the thick weight of the duvet covering us, heated by the closeness of the body pressed tight behind me. Marcellus's chest remained sealed against my back, the full length of him aligned with me, the rise and fall of his breathing steady and unhurried against my spine. His arm circled my waist with firm weight, his forearm heavy across my stomach, palm spread flat over my skin with a hold that claimed every inch of me without moving.

Warm breath stroked the back of my neck in slow, even intervals, each exhale brushing across my skin with heat that rolled downward into my chest. A faint soreness lingered between my hips, threaded through my muscles, my body reminding me of the intensity that unfolded before exhaustion pulled both of us under. The air carried the scent of sex mixed with his cologne, rich wood and clean sharp spice, layered with my perfume, sweet, warm, sultry. The fragrance clinging to the cotton sheets, the pillows, and the surface of my skin, saturating the space with silent evidence.

I shifted my eyes toward the digital clock glowing red through the low light on the nightstand: 4:13 AM.

The world quiet. No footsteps against the floors in the hallway outside, no staff moving through the estate yet. Only the low hum of the air system pushing warmth through the vents and the press of his breath against my shoulder every time his chest rose.

I moved carefully, adjusting my fingers beneath his forearm, lifting slowly to create enough space to slip free. My movements measured and controlled, every inch calculated. I eased forward, separating my back from his chest with the smallest shift, keeping my breath even to avoid stirring him.

His grip locked around my waist again before I could move farther. His arm tightened with controlled pressure and his chest pushed back into me, eliminating the space I created. His voice pressed against my shoulder, rough from sleep, dragging low across my skin.

"Where you think you going?"

The vibration of his voice moved through his chest and into my back, steady and thick in tone, not fully awake yet but sharp enough to carry command. I let out a quiet laugh under my breath, the sound muffled into the pillow beneath me.

"To my room," I murmured, lowering my voice to match the quiet of the space. "After your little stunt last night, the last thing I need is to be caught walking out of your room before sunrise."

His beard brushed my shoulder again, rough texture scraping lightly across the surface of my skin. His lips trailed along the top curve of my shoulder with slow, unhurried contact. Each kiss pressed warmth into a new point, like heat soaking through a single spot before easing outward. His fingers curled around my stomach, thumb drawing a slow, firm line through the center of my abdomen, his touch steady, claiming, and confident threaded through that gesture.

"So you tried to leave without waking me or letting me know you're leaving again," he murmured into my skin. His voice raw sleep, but his tone deeper, the words dragging through breath that vibrated against my shoulder. The tone balanced somewhere between firmness and quiet inquiry, coated with a controlled authority that tightened something low in my chest.

I pressed my palms against his forearm again, attempting to create space. "What are you? The bed monitor? Why do you need for me to tell you that I am leaving?" I replied with steady tone.

His grip secured around my waist again, stronger this time. My back pressed against his chest once more, eliminating space. His lips found the narrow line beneath my ear, mouth warm against the sensitive skin. He kissed in slow pressure that pushed a controlled breath from my lungs. His next inhale moved along my neck, heat and moisture touching the surface of my skin.