The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 144: Check up

Not healed. Not removed. But reinforced somehow. Like the river’s magic had wrapped around the cracks and held them together. Like it had bought me time I hadn’t expected to have.

Maybe more than eighteen months.

Maybe extra months.

Just speculation. Just hope. But the seal wasn’t breaking as fast as before and that had to mean something.

A knock shattered my thoughts.

Sharp. Sudden. Making me jump and dismiss the flames reflexively.

I stared at the door.

"Who is it?" I called.

Pause.

Then that voice. Muffled by wood but unmistakable. Sharp and invasive and belonging to exactly one person who would ignore propriety and show up at my door after dark.

"It’s me."

Soren.

Of course it was Soren.

"I’m tired," I said immediately.

"I know. I just want to say goodnight."

"Goodnight!" I yelled at the door.

Silence.

Then: "Not like that."

"Then stay there. I don’t care."

More silence.

I tried to continue what I’d been doing. Tried to focus on testing my magic. On examining the seal. On anything besides the fact that he was standing outside my door and not leaving.

But I could feel him.

His presence. His frost radiating even through wood and stone. The way cold responded to him like a living thing. How the temperature had dropped slightly just because he was near.

Couldn’t focus.

Irritation built with every second that passed. Every moment he stayed there instead of leaving like a reasonable person who understood what "I’m tired" meant.

Less than a minute before I broke.

Stood up. Marched to the door. Yanked it open with more force than necessary.

Ready to curse him out. Ready to tell him exactly what I thought about his inability to take hints. Ready to—

Stopped.

He was *there*.

Ethereal in flickering torchlight that painted him in gold and shadow. Hair back to normal length somehow. Cut while I’d been bathing probably. Looking at me with an expression that was part amusement and part something else I didn’t want to name.

Beautiful.

Unfairly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made thinking difficult and decision-making questionable.

"Do you like it?" He gestured to his hair.

I glared. "No."

Tried to slam the door.

His hand caught it. Effortless strength stopping the motion before it could complete. Then pushing. Not hard. Just enough to move me backward. Just enough to step inside before I could stop him.

"My mistake was opening it in the first place," I muttered.

Turned away. Pretended he didn’t exist. Walked back toward the bed like I could ignore him into leaving.

He followed.

Of course he followed.

I felt his presence behind me. Felt him closing distance. Felt the moment before his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against his chest.

"I know you got your powers back."

I stiffened.

How did he know? I’d just discovered it myself. Had been alone when testing. Had—

"Just came to check how you’re doing Your Majesty," he continued.

Soft. Almost considerate. Like this was genuinely about concern instead of an excuse to touch me.

I wanted to stay angry.

Wanted to maintain the irritation. The outrage at his presumption. The offense that he’d invaded my space without invitation.

But his tone was gentle. His hold was careful. And I was tired enough that sincerity bypassed my defenses faster than it should.

"I’m fine," I muttered.

Almost believed he’d accept that and leave.

Should have known better.

"Is that so?" His tone shifted. Dropped into that register that meant trouble. "Maybe I should do a thorough examination."

His lips touched my shoulder.

Lingered. Pressed against skin that was still warm from the bath. That was flushed from heat and steam and the emotions I’d been sorting through before he’d interrupted.

Then he licked.

Slow. Deliberate. Tongue tracing a path from shoulder to neck. Tasting skin that was slightly damp with sweat. Savoring it like I was something delicious instead of just a woman who’d recently bathed.

Shiver ran down my spine.

Automatic. Body responding before my brain could tell it to stop. Before I could remind myself that letting him do this was complicated and probably a bad idea.

His hands moved.

Found my breasts through the thin nightdress. Cupped them with palms that were cold enough to make the contrast noticeable. Fingers spreading across fabric that did nothing to hide my body’s response to temperature and touch.

"These carry the most warmth," he murmured.

Started touching. Not rough. Not demanding. Just... exploring. Testing weight. Shaping. Memorizing through touch like he was cataloguing information for later use.

I froze.

Body responding. Nipples hardening under his palms. Heat pooling low in my stomach. Breath catching in ways that would definitely give away how much this was affecting me.

Snapped out of it.

"OUT!"

Shoved at him. Pushed toward the door with both hands. Put actual force behind it because he was stronger and if I didn’t commit he’d just stay there touching me until I forgot why this was inappropriate.

He laughed.

Actually laughed. Like my outrage was entertainment. Like being physically ejected from a room was the most fun he’d had all day.

Didn’t resist much. Let me push him toward the exit. Let me get him through the doorway and slam the door in his face before he could protest.

Click of the lock sliding into place.

Silence.

I pressed my back against the door.

Body flushed. Heart racing. Breathing too fast for someone who’d just expelled an unwanted visitor instead of doing something actually strenuous.

"Calm down," I whispered to myself. "Calm. Down."

Willed my body to stop responding. Willed my heart rate to slow. Willed the heat between my legs to go away because absolutely not, we were not doing this, this was not happening.

Took several minutes.

Several long, frustrating minutes where my body argued with my brain about what was appropriate and what was just honest physical response to stimulation.

Eventually everything settled.

Heart rate returning to normal. Flush fading. Heat becoming manageable instead of overwhelming.

I walked to the bed.

Climbed in. Pulled furs over myself. Closed my eyes.

Tried very hard not to think about how I could still feel where he’d touched me.

Tried very hard not to acknowledge that some part of me had been disappointed when he’d let me push him out instead of pushing back.

Tried very hard to fall asleep before my thoughts could go anywhere more dangerous. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Failed spectacularly.