Chapter 69 Just Aiden And I
Malia's POV
Like any good procrastinator, I’m sprawled out on Aiden’s bed with a wild mess of notes and textbooks all around me trying to soak up whatever tidbits of knowledge my brain can still handle the night before my final.
Shirtless and with the heat cranked waaaaay up in the suite, Aiden is sitting across from me. I'm really trying to pay attention to pack law, and not the way the lamplight caresses the ridges of his chest and abs.
I’m spectacularly failing at it.
"Malia." His voice was light with amusement. "You’re staring."
The heat rises in my cheeks. "I was looking at the textbook."
"The textbook is to your left. You were staring right at my stomach." He’s grinning now, clearly loving my mortification. If I should put a shirt on. Is this too much of a distraction?"
“No!” The word is out too soon, too brewed up. "Well, you don’t have to. I mean, I can concentrate. I'm concentrating."
"Uh-huh." He leans forward with his forearms resting on his legs, and the movement makes his shoulder blades flex in a way.
"Quiz me then. Show that you’re listening."
I force my gaze away from his chest—to do so takes balls of steel—and peek down at my notes. "Okay. Um. What are three reasons for allowing territorial challenge under the Unified Pack Accords?”
“Proven treaty breaking, non-defense of the pack in territory, or desertion of land for more than two moons.” He replies without hesitation. “Now you. Tell me the difference between a challenge bond and a claim bond.”
When I breathe in, I rack my brain to keep my thoughts in order and to not pay attention to how his abs flex as he moves.
“A challenge bond is temporary,”I begin,“...and is created when an alpha contends for territory or ranking. It is automatically broken in the event that the challenge is lost or withdrawn. A claiming bond is lifelong, created between true mates, and can simply be broken by –”
He ends with me, “Death or mutual dissolution. Good. You've got this.”
Yea, I know but the temperature in the room is rising to stifling.
I am tugging at the neck of my t-shirt, sweat is forming on my back near my waist. "God, it's a hot box in here.”
Aiden says apologetically, “I told facilities about the heating. They said they can't do anything about it until tomorrow.”
“These are the best times.” I try to fan myself with my notebook, but it is of little help.
Aiden holds my gaze for a moment, and there is some kind of change in his expression. "You can also take your shirt off if you like. Level the playing field."
My heart skips. "That's not—we're supposed to be studying."
"We are studying. Very productively." His eyes darken slightly. "But we're also melting. I'm just suggesting you get comfortable."
There is nothing overtly suggestive about his tone, but the bond hums between us, beneath the surface of the want and heat we are trying so hard not to talk about, focused on magically broken heating systems.
“Comfortable,” I say.
“It’s all completely academic,” he says, but now he’s smiling. That slow, destructive smile that makes my stomach turn.
I shouldn’t. We should keep studying. I'm taking an exam in less than 12 hours. But Aiden looks at me like that, and the bond tugs insistently at some place low in my belly.
I set my notebook down and pull my shirt over my head in one fluid motion before I can overthink it.
Aiden’s eyes follow the motion, growing darker as he looks at my plain cotton bra and the skin that is showing. The temperature in the room feels like it’s gone up another ten degrees, but I’m pretty sure now it’s not because of the heat anymore.
"Better?" His voice has become hoarse.
"Much." My heart is pounding and I’m aware of every inch of my skin that is uncovered and the way he’s looking at me like I’m some kind of treasure to be held and coveted all at once.
"Good. That’s good." He remains still, I see the tension in his shoulders, that precise restraint he’s applying. “We should… we should keep studying.”
"Right. Studying." I go for my textbook, but my hands are trembling slightly.
"Malia." Aiden’s voice is strained. "If you keep biting your lip like that, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens."
I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize” he set his own textbook aside deliberately. “Just… come here.”
It’s not an order, not quite. More like demand.
I close the gap between us,crawling over the bed till I’m on my knees right in front of him. His hands come up and frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones.
Then his mouth is on mine and he just goes down on me.
It's a gentle kiss, but it soon evolves into more desperate urgency. His hands move from my face down to my waist, bringing me tighter until I'm straddling his lap. The closeness of the position means we’re fully pressed up, skin to skin, and that contact shoots like electricity through my nerves.
I run my fingers through his hair, turning his head to deepen the kiss. He tastes like the coffee we'd been drinking before, comforting and addictive. His hands trail up my back, along the small of my spine, and I arch into the caress.
"Malia," he breathes on my lips. "God, you're perfect."
The compliment makes something hot spread in my chest. I make the kiss more vigorous, giving it all my —love, mood and desire.
His hands reach the hook of my bra, then his fingers linger there. "Can I?"
"Yes," I whisper, watching him unlatch it effortlessly from experience.
My bra drops, and now his hands are on my unprotected skin, hot and respectful. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with longing but softened by something softer.
Tenderly.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and then he kisses my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to my collarbone.
I gasp as my fingers clench in his hair. The feeling is so overpowering—his lips against my skin, his hands roaming, the bond humming between us with so much vigour.
He lays me back down on the pillows, his body over mine, not pressing into me too much. I feel him in every way, the warmth of his skin, the wild thumping of his heart beating in time with my own.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he says, his voice rough with restraint. “Anytime. I’ll stop and we’ll go back studying.”
“Don’t stop.” I whisper, my hand on his cheek as I drag him down for another kiss.
What follows is slow and exploratory. His palms trace and learn every inch of my body, down to the core what makes me breathe, what makes me shudder in his touch. I strip for him, and his hands skim over the planes of his chest, the sides of his neck, every inch of him that I can get my hands on.
We kiss so much our lips are raw, so much that it’s difficult to breathe, so much that the world shrinks down to just us and this bed and the energy buzzing between us like a live wire.
The time is meaningless. It may be minutes, or hours. I know only the touch of Aiden, his whispered praise, the way he looks at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted.
“I love you,” he says against my skin, the words punctuated with kisses. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I say quietly, breathless and shattered. “Aiden, I—”
He captures my lips again, swallowing whatever I’ve been about to say. The kiss is deep and claiming, promising and possessing and devoting.
When we do finally pull apart, gasping for breath, flushed and shaking, Aiden pulls me close. Our hearts pounding in unison, slowing as we come from nearing the intensity.
"That was..." I trail off.
“Yeah,” he agreed with a knowing nod. His fingers make lazy patterns upon the skin of my bare shoulder. "That was."
Comfortable silence as we lie there, still entwined, my head on his chest as I hear his heartbeat. The textbooks and notes are all over the place, they are neglected but still have their use.
“We should probably get back to studying,” I add finally, but I’m not making any move to do just that.
“Sure.” His arms tighten around me. “Five more minutes?”
“Five more minutes,” I say, cuddling up closer.
Five minutes turn into twenty, then thirty.
"You're going to ace these exams," says Aiden, absolutely certain. “I know you are. You’re brilliant, Malia. One of the smartest people I know.”
“You have to say that.”
“I'm saying it because it's true. “ He tips my chin upward so I have to look at him. "You’ve worked incredibly hard. You’ve already processed information that would take most students double the time to grasp. Every grade you’re going to get, you’ve earned it and I’m so proud of you.”
He kisses my forehead with tenderness. “Now, as much as I want to just keep you in this bed forever you do actually have to sleep so you can take your exam tomorrow.”
I groan, not ready to face the world just yet. “Can’t I just stay here? Have the exam with you draped around me?”
With a laugh, the sound rolling up from his chest, he says “Tempting. But no. You need proper rest. Your brilliant brain needs to be sharp tomorrow.”
With reluctance I pulled myself from under his arms and find my shirt and bra which I tossed aside earlier.
Aiden ogled me openly as I got dressed, causing my face to flush again. “Stop looking at me like that,” I say, smiling.
“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” He finally pulls on his own shirt—when though part of me mourns the loss of the view.
“Come on. Let’s at least pretend we’re responsible students who care about sleep schedules.” He says.
We tidy up our mess of study notes, returning the books to some order. The whole domesticity of just cleaning up together after a night of studying and kissing is kind of meaningful in some way.
Like we’re building something real and lasting. When I’m at last settled under the covers, Aiden slides in behind me, pulling me against his chest.
His arms are wrapped tightly around me and I haven’t felt safe like this in weeks.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs against my hair. Love you.”
“I love you too,” I whisper back.
With Aiden’s warmth encircling me and the even cadence of his breathing lulling me, I feel prepared. Prepared for the exam tomorrow. Ready to show myself - and everyone else - that I belong here.
Because Aiden believes in me.
And maybe that’ll be enough to make me believe in myself too.