My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 210: No Regrets

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His smile was slow and radiant, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made my heart do that ridiculous flip it always did around him.

He leaned in to kiss me again, soft and lingering this time, without any heat behind it, just comfort and quiet affection. When he pulled away, he tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin.

"Good," he murmured. "Because you were incredible. So fascinating when you let go like that. I’ve never seen anything better."

Heat crept back into my cheeks, but it was a warmer kind this time, less frantic. I buried my face into his chest again, listening to the steady thump of his heart slowing beneath my ear.

His hand slid up my back in smooth, soothing strokes, tracing my spine as if he was mapping me all over again, committing every inch to his memory. I melted into it, tension I hadn’t even realized I was holding seeping out of me with each pass of his palm.

We lay in silence for a while, just breathing together, the room quiet except for the faint creak of the house settling and the soft rustle of sheets whenever one of us moved.

Adrien’s fingers eventually found their way into my hair, combing through the tangles gently, carefully working out the knots without pulling. Every now and then, he’d drop a kiss on the top of my head or my forehead, or even the tip of my nose, like he simply couldn’t help himself.

It was almost mind-blowing, how this person I once thought was the literal spawn of Satan sent to torment me was being so... intimate with me.

"You’re shaking a little," he said eventually, his voice low and concerned. He pulled the quilt higher around my shoulders, tucking it carefully before wrapping his arms back around my waist. "Cold?"

"Not really," I admitted, though the shiver wasn’t from the temperature. "I mean, I am...but you’re warm."

He hummed softly, understanding without needing to ask for more. He pressed his lips to my temple again.

"I’ve got you," he whispered. "Not going anywhere. Just rest, okay? I’ll take care of you."

I nodded against his chest, letting my eyes drift shut as exhaustion finally caught up with me. The emotional high, the physical release, it all left me feeling boneless and floaty, safe in a way I hadn’t known I could feel with anyone. Adrien kept stroking my back, my hair, my arm...light touches that grounded me even as they lulled me toward sleep.

At some point, he reached down to the floor, snagging the forgotten shirt again, using a clean corner to gently clean me up a bit more thoroughly...slow, careful swipes that made me flush even in the dark.

He hushed me softly when I tried to protest, kissing the embarrassment away. When he was satisfied, he tossed it aside once more and pulled me back into his arms, our legs tangling together until we were pressed against each other from chest to toes.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, his voice drowsy now too. "I’ve got you. Always."

"Stop calling me that," I muttered, sleepily.

With his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek and his warmth surrounding me completely, I believed him. For the first time in a long while, I let myself drift off, safe, cherished, and utterly his...while the night held us both with little guilt and regrets.

The morning sunlight streamed gently through the half-closed blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the tangled sheets and giving the room a peaceful, dreamlike quality. I woke up slowly, my awareness creeping in alongside the soothing rhythm of someone else’s breathing against the back of my neck, warm and steady, and so close it felt almost surreal.

Adrien was curled around me from behind, his chest pressed against my back, one heavy arm draped possessively over my waist as if it had always been meant to rest there.

Despite the chill of the late December air seeping through the old windowpanes, he felt like a furnace, radiating warmth that chased away any trace of cold and left me feeling flushed and overheated beneath the quilt.

At first, I didn’t dare move, afraid that any shift could shatter this fragile peace. His legs were intertwined with mine, one thigh comfortably wedged between my own, holding me in place with a gentle possessiveness that made my heart race all over again.

Memories of last night surged back in vivid, heated flashes, his mouth on my skin, the slick slide of his hand around us, the way he’d watched me come undone while whispering my name like it was a prayer.

We hadn’t gone all the way, not really, but we had crossed lines I’d vowed never to cross. We had touched and tasted and come apart together, and the thought alone sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my stomach.

I was bracing for regret to kick in, for that moment of panic or guilt or that frantic spiral of what-have-we-done that I always thought would follow something like this. But it never came. Instead, there was just this quiet, dizzying certainty humming beneath my ribs, a soft voice suggesting that maybe this was exactly where we were meant to end up.

Maybe Adrien had been slowly and patiently corrupting me all along and, honestly, I didn’t mind it one bit. I had wanted it just as strongly as he had.

Trying not to disturb him, I shifted onto my back and then slowly turned to face him completely. The movement made his arm tighten instinctively around my waist, pulling me closer even in his sleep, and I suppressed a smile that threatened to break out.

Up close like this, with the morning light softening his features, Adrien looked almost unfairly beautiful. His dark hair had fallen across his forehead in messy waves, a few strands brushing the sharp line of his cheekbone.

His long lashes cast gentle shadows on his cheeks, perfect pink lips slightly parted, and his strong jawline relaxed in a way I rarely got to see when he was awake and guarded behind that effortless smirk.

I couldn’t help myself and I reached out, tracing the air just above his brow before letting my fingertips rest against the warm skin of his temple, brushing aside those stray strands with the gentlest touch.

He didn’t stir, only exhaled a soft sigh that drifted across my collarbone, and something in my chest tightened with a fierce tenderness that almost scared me. This boy, this infuriatingly gorgeous, utterly impossible boy, who had once been nothing more than my bully stepbrother, now felt like an essential part of me.

My gaze wandered lower, over the slope of his shoulder, the defined curve of his bicep still protectively curled around me, down to where the quilt had slipped just enough to reveal the smooth expanse of his chest.

Memories of my hands exploring that same skin last night made my face heat up again, and I ducked my head, pressing my forehead lightly to his collarbone, hiding the blush burning across my cheeks.

"Keep staring like that, and I’ll start charging money for it," a gravelly, sleepy voice murmured above me, laced with amusement.

Shit, I’ve been caught!