Page 63 of Bound By Thorns

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, as I softly pressed my lips against hers. This kiss wasn’t ignited by the usual sparks of fiery passion or tinged with the sharpness of past resentments. Instead, it unfolded with a tender deliberateness. When she parted her lips, it wasn’t just an act of physical consent but a profound invitation. An invitation, I wholeheartedly accepted, and deeply respected.

As our kiss deepened, I carefully shifted our positions, guiding her gently to lie beside me, ensuring every movement was a reassurance of my intent to protect, not overpower. This connection, this moment, was about cherishing her, about trying to communicate through every gentle press of lips and caress of tongue how deeply she mattered to me.

There was no track of time in the cocoon we created there. Eventually, the intensity of our kisses softened into the quiet breaths of sleep. I felt her relax fully against me, her head nestled against my neck, and my arms instinctively wrapped around her. In that embrace, every fiber of my being was attuned to her presence, her comfort, her safety.Her.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Kaylan

A lazy warmth pressed against my stomach, Logan’s hand secure as I nestled comfortably against him. His other arm, my makeshift pillow, offered a gentle embrace that tightened slightly when I shifted, as if he were trying to keep me close forever.

It wasn’t difficult to notice the next thing, his hard length pressing against my butt. I shook away all the unsavory thoughts. I was advised not to have sexual intercourse for another week. Despite the physical limitations, the closeness felt right.

I rolled over to face him, and his features were relaxed in sleep, unburdened and serene, perhaps the most peaceful I’d seen him in months. A smile found its way to my lips, warming me further.

“It’s rude to stare,” he muttered without opening his eyes, a slight smirk playing at his lips.

Propping myself up on one elbow, I leaned in and captured his lips with mine before he could fully wake. My fingers instinctively wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer.

He kissed me back with a gentle eagerness, his chuckle vibrating softly against me. The sound was disarmingly sweet, shattering the residual tension of the night.

Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, overwhelmed by the simplicity and beauty of the moment. His gaze held mine, filled with something profoundly tender.

And just like that, my blue-eyed stranger was back.

He edged closer again, as though to resume our kiss, but paused, a question in his eyes. “Can I?” he whispered.

At his words, my heart broke for him.

“Logan,” I said softly. “You don’t ever need to ask for permission to kiss me again, okay?”

His smile was swift and boyish before he reclaimed my lips, this kiss burning hotter, deeper than before. When we finally parted, breathless and flushed, he grinned. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

My grin faltered as I recalled Dr. Mendoza’s words. “This is a trauma bond, Logan.”

His brow creased slightly at that, drawing back a little. Regret instantly washed over me, perhaps evident in my quick change of expression, because he pulled me back into a firm hug. “Even if it is, it’s real, Chaos.”

It’s real.

After a moment, we rose from the bed. Logan excused himself to his room to freshen up, and I took the chance to shower, moving carefully with the fresh stitches. When he returned, he gently redid my dressing, each touch careful and diligent.

When we walked into the lounge for breakfast, it seemed everyone else had long since finished. They lounged around the table, deep in conversation. Leora’s broad smile was unmistakable as she caught sight of Logan and me entering together.

Logan picked up two plates and we headed to the buffet. I loaded mine with fruits and hash browns before finding a seatat the table. Logan, quiet as ever, followed suit and took the seat next to me.

As we dug into our breakfast, the team’s chatter resumed.

“So, it’s Election Day, folks,” Sebastian announced.

“And what does that mean for us?” Logan inquired, a look of genuine curiosity on his face. “Sorry, we’ve just been a bit out of the loop. Care to share, Bastian?”

I shot a surprised glance at Logan. I had never heard him use that nickname for Sebastian before, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one taken aback. Sebastian, however, just smiled warmly and nodded, which Logan reciprocated with his own slight smile.

“Well, George Aiden, who has ties to Garret Tyson, is on the ballot. If he wins the blue vote, we might be in for some trouble,” Sebastian explained, sipping his coffee.

Logan nodded.

“Do we know anyone in the new cabinet? Any names we recognize?” I asked, looking around the table.

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