Here's Chapter 10: a slow, suggestive morning-after scene where emotional and physical tension simmers just under the surface, teasing both their self-control and their desires.
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Chapter 10: Morning Mischief
The sun slipped through the duchy's high arched windows, bathing the sitting room in soft gold.
Kazriel stirred first, his arms still wrapped securely around Aria.
His brain registered three things in order:
1. She was curled tightly on his lap.
2. Her robe had slipped slightly off one shoulder.
3. Her breath was warm against his neck.
Oh no.
He blinked again.
Her legs were tangled with his.
His hand? Resting on her bare thigh.
And worse?
His heart was thundering in a way it shouldn't be.
Not yet.
Not before marriage.
But his body didn't seem to care.
Just as he was carefully, painfully trying to shift her weight—
"Mmm… Kazriel?" came a sleepy voice.
She blinked up at him, then froze as her position became very, very clear.
Her cheeks turned crimson.
He swallowed hard, eyes flicking away like a gentleman—but the damage was done.
She could feel everything.
So could he.
Their eyes met.
Neither moved.
Both clearly thinking what they shouldn't.
"…We should get up," she whispered.
"…Probably," he replied, voice low and hoarse.
But neither of them did.
She shifted—accidentally.
He hissed.
She gasped.
Then, silence.
Thick. Tense. Charged.
Kazriel shut his eyes, breathing through his nose. "If we don't move now, Aria… I will break the rule."
That jolted her. She scrambled gently off him, tying her robe tighter and clearing her throat.
"Right. Breakfast. We need it. Separate breakfast. Like nobles do."
He nodded rapidly. "Exactly. In different rooms. At opposite ends of the duchy."
But the moment they parted ways, both paused behind their respective doors… leaning against them, hearts pounding.
That was close.
Too close.