novelraw Chapter 245: Make it up to me
Chapter 245: Make it up to me
Rory was fast asleep.
As if a feather were brushing back and forth, light and teasing.
But the moment she moved, the "feather" turned into a hand.
It caught her by the waist and pulled her back—straight into a warm, solid embrace.
Rory blinked awake, still groggy.
"...Vincent?" Her sleepiness vanished instantly. "What are you doing here?"
Vincent didn’t answer.
The movement was soft... almost plaintive. Like someone who had suffered a great injustice.
"What’s wrong?" she asked gently. "Did something happen?"
Who had upset him?
His voice was low, edged with the faintest trace of grievance—soft enough to sound almost pitiful.
"When did I lie to you? We were playing a game," she said. "You told me I could punish you however I wanted. I was just... punishing you."
"Rory..." he murmured, his tone still carrying that quiet hurt, "do you know what Nix and the others said about me after you left?"
"What did they say?" she asked. "Don’t tell me they dared to badmouth you."
Who would dare?
Then, slowly, he spoke. "They said... I’m not good enough."
"...Not good enough for what?"
"...Exactly what you’re thinking."
They hadn’t even—
Vincent explained calmly, though his tone still carried that faint trace of grievance, "After a male bonds with his female for the first time, he usually stays close to her the next day. But after we bonded, you left on your own...and I stayed in bed."
When he finished, he buried his face lightly against her neck, his voice muffled.
His breath brushed her skin, sending a subtle shiver through her.
"Rory... what do we do now?"
"...This is my fault," she admitted softly. "I didn’t know they’d think that. I’ll go downstairs and explain—it was just a game. You’re perfectly fine."
There probably wasn’t anyone in better condition than him.
He shook his head slightly, the silk ribbon brushing faintly against her cheek.
He leaned closer, their noses nearly touching, their breaths intertwining.
Rory’s face flushed instantly.
Of course she did.
Before she could protest, Vincent closed the distance again, his presence wrapping around her like a net.
He looked so wronged, so unfairly treated, that she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.
If this wasn’t cleared up... Vincent might never hold his head high in this house again.
She cupped his face and pressed a light kiss to his lips.
He lifted his hand, guiding hers toward the black silk at his eyes.
His voice carried a faint rasp now.
Unbidden, memories from the night before surfaced.
Just as her fingers began to loosen the knot, Vincent caught her hand again.
"...No. Leave it."
"...This is more interesting."
Vincent leaned closer, his voice soft, teasing.
Rory’s face burned.
She thought he was more than capable—far too capable.
Instead, he held her hand firmly in place, his breath growing slightly uneven—though his tone remained calm, controlled.
Rory felt her resolve unraveling, piece by piece, melting under his warmth.
The air thickened with something unspoken.
It was trust.
He drew her closer, lips finding hers—slowly, patiently—wearing down the last of her resistance.
His voice was low, softened, threaded with something dangerously tender.