Anything But Soup

Anything But Soup


Chapter 65
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Elena

His face was buried in the curve of my neck, his lips brushing my skin as his breathing slowed. Every exhale was hot and shaky against me, like he was trying to calm himself but failing. My fingers slid weakly up his back, nails grazing over his damp skin, feeling every muscle twitch under my touch.

I should’ve said something, but my throat was tight, words stuck. My heart was still racing, my chest aching with all the things I couldn’t bring myself to admit.

He shifted slightly, his weight heavier as if he wanted me pinned there forever. “Elena…” his voice broke, low and rough, almost trembling.

I hummed against his shoulder, my voice barely coming out. “Yes?”

His hand lifted to my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes. His thumb lingered on my cheekbone like he was memorizing me. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

The words hit me so hard my chest ached. I turned my face away, staring at the ceiling, because if I looked at him, I’d break down more than this. “Then don’t,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

Silence wrapped around us.

His hand slipped from my cheek down to my jaw, then my throat, resting there, not squeezing, just feeling my pulse race beneath his fingers.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against mine. His tone was harsh but broken, like the words cut him too.

I wanted to laugh, but instead my chest tightened. “You think I don’t know that?” My voice cracked.

His lips brushed mine, softer this time, nothing like the hunger before. I kissed him back slowly, pouring everything I couldn’t say into that kiss.

When he finally pulled back, he shifted to the side, his arm wrapping under me, pulling me against him. His cock slid out of me slowly, and I winced at the sudden emptiness, my body clenching as if it refused to let him go. Heat pooled between my thighs, sticky and messy, but his hand was already sliding down, touching, wiping, soothing.

I tensed, but he hushed me. “Don’t move. Let me.”

His fingers brushed me gently, tender where he’d been rough before. My body twitched under the soft touch.

I closed my eyes and just let myself feel, let myself melt into his hand.

I wanted to cry. God, I wanted to cry.

He leaned in, lips kissing my temple, whispering things too soft for me to catch. My chest squeezed, my throat burned.

I shifted closer, tucking myself into him, hiding my face in his chest.

“I hate you,” I whispered, the words muffled against his skin.

He chuckled, but it wasn’t mocking. It was broken, low, like he was swallowing pain. “I know.” His hand stroked down my back, slow and steady. “But you still want me.”

I didn’t answer, because he was right. And the truth was more terrifying than the lie.

Minutes passed, maybe hours, I didn’t know. His fingers traced lazy circles on my arm, my thigh, anywhere he could reach. My body was exhausted, trembling from aftershocks, but I couldn’t close my eyes. My brain wouldn’t let me.

I stared at him, at the rise and fall of his chest, the sweat glistening on his skin, the way his jaw clenched even when he tried to relax. He wasn’t calm. He was fighting himself, just like me.

His eyes fluttered open, catching me staring. He just looked at me, raw and unguarded. Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, soft, almost reverent.

“Sleep, Elena,” he murmured.

And somehow, I did.

When morning came, I woke to the light slipping through the curtains. My body somehow ached everywhere, sore in ways I hadn’t felt in a while. I shifted slowly, wincing at the dull throb between my legs, the ache in my muscles.

Then my eyes landed on him.

Kael was still asleep beside me, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, his face relaxed in a way I rarely saw. The hard edges of him softened, his lashes casting shadows across his cheeks, his mouth parted slightly.

My hand twitched, wanting to reach out, to touch his face, to trace the lines of him. I didn't anyways.

He shifted a little in his sleep, a soft sound escaping him. His arm reached out, searching for me even while unconscious, fingers brushing the empty space between us. My breath caught. Something in my chest broke a little more.
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I pulled the sheet up to cover myself, not because I was cold, but because I realized I wasn't putting in clothes.

Who was I even kidding? He had already seen me in this form twice.

Heat flushed in my cheeks and my heart raced.

I reached out, letting my fingers hover just above his cheek.

“Kael,” I whispered, but so quietly it barely left my lips. He didn’t stir.

I lay back down, curling onto my side, my back to him now, staring at the light creeping further into the room.

A hand snaked around my waist which severed my deep thoughts.

“Morning princess.” Kael said, his voice husky.

My breath hitched. Was he awake the whole time?

I panicked and covered my face with my blanket.

Kael chuckled. “What's with the blanket?”

“N– Nothing.” I said quickly.

Silence.

His hands suddenly left my waist and slowly slid up.

My eyes darted across.

He stopped directly under my breasts, then he whispered against my ear.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

A wave of disappointment suddenly hit me. I had expected something else.

“Anything but soup.”

He chuckled. “Coming right up princess.”

He got up from the bed and I lowered the blanket.