Chapter 195. You Wouldn’t Dare

June POV

The next day—after rounds and rounds of lovemaking that left my body soft and aching in the sweetest way—I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling while Hermes is curled against me, warm and heavy, like he belongs there.

The room is dim, curtains still drawn, the early morning light barely slipping through. I run my fingers through his hair, slow and careful, counting in my head.

Twenty-four… twenty-three… twenty-two… twenty-one… nineteen…

“Ugh. Shifty bastard,” I breathe under my nose.

Hermes shifts, his face pressing deeper into my shoulder. “Do you want something?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

“Don’t worry, love,” I whisper, still stroking his hair. “Sleep.”

My lips press together.

We promised we’d get married today.

A promise born half out of love and half out of wrecked, breathless pleasure.

But I’m not ready.

Not yet.

There is too much between us that hasn’t been said. Too much blood.