Control (Dark Romance)

Chapter 73

Nikola's POV

I wake to lips trailing over my neck and fingertips caressing my chest. The pleasure it ignites makes opening my eyes a taxing struggle I can barely best, but I try. When I do, I catch a fleeting glimpse of brown curls before Hagen's lips slide over mine.

My eyes fall shut again as reality braids itself into my softest dreams.

It tastes strangely like toothpaste.

Hagen pulls away too quickly, drawing back to give me pecks that are hardly sufficient in fulfilling my fresh cravings for him, but they are enough to ward off the panic that begins to stir as my brain wakes enough to register that I was yet to brush my teeth.

"Mhmm... Okay," Hagen hums as he pulls away completely, forcing my eyes to pop open. I find him immediately. He hovers over me, his brown eyes alight with his pleasure as he leans closer to whisper, "I just needed a little something to get me through the morning."

I feel myself frowning while his fingers sweep my unruly hair back.

"What's happening?"

Hagen giggles and what a beautiful sound it is to hear at the start of one's morning. It's so lovely that I forget my question entirely as I stare up at him, greedily soaking in the warmth of his laughter.

"It's Thursday, Nikola," he reminds me before pecking my lips once more. "Thursday means Turkish classes in the morning."

"Oh. Oh, yes," I mumble as I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes.

I sit up— or try to. I barely get a hand under me before Hagen is pushing me back down. My frown returns in quick order.

"I already had breakfast, you don't have to make me any. I left your half in the fridge," Hagen reports while he straightens. "I was just saying bye."

Hagen jumps from the bed as if his words have not brought a large metaphorical cloud over my head.

I sit up, successfully this time, and only then notice that while I was still mostly naked beneath our webbing sheets, Hagen was freshly showered, fully dressed and already plucking his packed backpack from the floor.

"I missed the morning," I whisper, equally horrified by this reality and myself for causing it.

I never missed the day or woke up 'late', but apparently, I had and Hagen, the one I trusted more than any other, had not sought to mend that fault. He had literally left me to lie in my failure.

"I did try waking you, but you were dead," Hagen defends while he steps back. "I guess last night was too much."

I scowl. "It was not."

Hagen tongues the inside of his cheek while a devious smile stretches across his lips. "Are you sure?" He asks in a teasing purr.

"Quite," I growl, and as my mate's giggles rise once more, he leaves me reeling between annoyance and joy.

Was this what poets meant when they spoke of syruped torture?

If so, they needed to use better words to explain that it was not the sweet coating that drew one to temptation, but the fact that the sweetness was interlaced with the pain, so one could not pry them apart. Not that I would ever dare, even if I knew how.

I would forever take the torment my Hagen chose to inflict on my mind once it was coming from his heavenly hands.

"Whatever you say," Hagen replies before he checks his wrist for the time. "I got to go or I'll be late."

"You don't wear a watch, Hagen."

"Your letter is downstairs! Okay, love you, byee!" Hagen rattles out before he disappears with a wave.