Page 94 of Brambles and Bellflowers
17
The first thingI noticed was the blank stone inches from my face, which made me wonder briefly what had happened to the orange tent. Yet, despite the change, this place was comfortable and warm. I woke up feeling utterly safe for the first time in a long while.
However, as awareness slowly seeped in, I became acutely conscious of the warmth pressed against me, another presence that kept my hands from covering my face.
A weight was draped over my back, stretched over my legs, and wrapped around my front, pinning me in place. My heartbeat began to pick up as a soft breath brushed across my cheek, and my muscles locked.
I could scarcely breathe as Miles sighed against my ear and burrowed his face further into my neck.
My throat was tight. I could barely remember how we ended up like this. Miles had moved me as I’d drifted off. He’d lain between me and the cave’s entrance, blocking the coldest air. At the time, I was too tired to blush.
But with the morning light now peeking in, everything seemed different. The immediate danger that had pushed us soclose was gone, and here we were, naked under a scant blanket, way too close for comfort.
And then there was that unmistakable pressure against my backside. I knew exactly what it was.
My cheeks flamed, and my skin turned clammy. If Miles woke up now, he’d be mortified. He used to be a monk, a model of virtue, and supposedly, my past life, Mu, had led him astray with his slutty ways.
This portion of history would not be repeated.
His arm was under my head, doubling as my pillow. His other arm was wrapped around my chest, his hand tucked under my ribs. Could he feel my heart hammering against him?
Why was he holding me so tightly? When we’d slept in his room before, he always kept to his side of the bed and had vanished by the time I woke up.
However, the most critical question was this: how could I escape without him knowing?
I twisted—trying to ignore the feel of his bare arms over my exposed breasts—until I turned over. The ground was hard across my stomach as I pressed my palms against the stone floor.
This position wasn’t much better—it wasn’t any easier to escape. But on a positive note, Miles’s morning wood was no longer snug against my butt.
Damen’s assurance repeated in my mind: a man would not die from blue balls, and Miles would survive this ordeal.
But there was still the matter of it jutting into my side. It was a better location, certainly, but it’s still terribly embarrassing.
For Miles. Not me.
He could never know. After escaping, everything would go back to normal.
This never happened. I could never tell him that I was afraid.
I forced my breathing to calm and glanced at my sleeping companion from the corner of my eye. Thankfully, he showed no signs of waking. Despite my movements, his face remained serene. He was blissfully and innocently unaware of our current position.
I needed to act quickly. If only I could push him off me, I could cross the cave in seconds.
I sucked in a breath, tensing my shoulders in preparation to flee. I would have to use all my strength to push his dead weight off me. Why did he have to have so many muscles?
Three, two…
“Mu…” Miles murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear, and his embrace shifted, pulling me from my almost-freed position until my face was pressed into his chest. “Where are you going?”
I tensed as a familiar helplessness began to consume me, spreading like poison under my skin. There was simply no way to escapethisdeath grip.
On the other hand, my curiosity warred for dominance over my fear becausewhat in the world?
My thoughts scattered as Miles’s grip tightened, and a certain part of his anatomy was now pressed directly against the juncture of my thighs. We were both sticky from sweat—from cuddling all night long—dirty, and the force of his presence was almost overwhelming.
But definitely not in a good way.
The bile was rising in my throat, and my emotions were dizzying. I could barely breathe as he nuzzled my cheek, then pressed his mouth against my jaw with a sleepy sigh.
