Thief

by Sadie Moss

  I’m shaking so hard I think I might throw up. Roman turns, sees me, and his shoulders slump.

  “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, pulling me roughly into his arms. His voice is low in my ear, gruff and full of regret. “Jesus, Reckless, are you all right?”

  I grab onto him—cling, really—and I know I shouldn’t, that we’re still in public, but I can’t help myself. I need this. It’s the only thing in the world I need right now.

  “Shh.” Roman rubs my back, and I realize I’m crying. My breath is coming in short gasps as tears stream down my face. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

  You could, if you wanted, take the excuse that I’m clearly having a panic attack to say it’s okay that Roman’s hugging me. I’m a scared student, and I was just attacked. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’d want to comfort me.

  But at the same time… I know we’re hugging a lot longer, and a lot more intimately, than we should be. I know we should stop, but I can’t make myself let go. I just can’t.

  I need this, need him, too much.

  My gaze lifts, tracking past Roman’s shoulder as he continues to hold me and soothe me, and I see Tamlin looking at us. She’s moving through the gathered students making sure everyone’s magic dampening brace is securely back on, but her steps slow as she watches the two of us. A distinct flicker of hurt flashes in her eyes.

  Ah, damn it.

  She may be Roman’s ex, but I like Tamlin. It’s not like we’re besties or anything, but she’s a sweet person who I respect a lot. And I know she still has feelings for the man holding me in his arms, so I feel kind of like shit that she’s figured out there’s something going on between us.

  Then a new thought strikes me.

  …oh, crap.

  If Tamlin’s made the connection, then how many other people have figured it out too?

  Just how deep in shit am I?

  Chapter 15

  The healers roll Tandy onto one of their levitating stretchers to take her down to the infirmary. They carry her out the door, and the room grows quiet as her moans and cries fade into the distance.

  Roman escorts me out of the classroom. He says something to Tamlin about taking me out of the way while she informs Hardwick about the situation—it’s clear they both think I need to be kept away from the other students, although whether it’s for my own protection or because they genuinely think I might have done something to the others, I can’t tell.

  My classmates all give me a wide berth. The only one who doesn’t look scared is Kendal, but she just looks confused, having missed the whole thing.

  Roman hasn’t let go of me this whole time. He keeps an arm around my shoulders as we walk out of the classroom, so I’m pressed up against his side. I know I should pull away a little and make us look less like… well, make us look less close, but I can’t manage it.

  I’ve never had a panic attack like that before. I couldn’t stop shaking, I was crying, my chest felt painfully tight—it’s better now, I’m coming down from it, but I’ve never felt so helpless. Not even in the middle of the Trials when my magic felt inadequate and I knew someone was trying to sabotage me.

  My classmates start whispering among themselves as we walk out. I can’t tell if it’s about me and what I did—or what they think I did—or if it’s about the fact that Roman is still holding me as we walk, but either way…

  Goddamn it.

  We’ve been so careful this whole time. For over a year, we’ve worked to not let anyone know about our hookup at the bar or everything that’s developed between us since then. On one level, it’s not even that scandalous. I’m of age, a fully grown adult, and there’s only a few-year age gap between us. It shouldn’t be a big deal… but he’s my professor. People could claim he was giving me better grades or something because of our relationship. If the wrong people get upset about this, Roman could get fired.

  Fuck. Like I needed one more thing to worry about.

  Roman ignores it all. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t see it or—no, he has to see it. He’s smart and observant; he notices everything. He’s just choosing to ignore it, then, either too angry to care or just not caring in general.

  I wish I could say the same, but I do care. I don’t want either of us kicked out for this, of all things.

  Although I probably should be more worried about everyone thinking I’ve, you know, stolen Tandy’s magic.

  But that wasn’t me. I’m sure of it.

  If I really could steal someone else’s power for my own, then I’d still be able to levitate, wouldn’t I? And I can’t. Every time I “borrow” a power from someone else, it never seems to last very long. I want to scream at them use your heads! Use some goddamn common sense! I didn’t do it!

  But none of the students looking at me suspiciously want to listen to reason right now. They’re scared, and they want an enemy they can recognize, an enemy they can latch onto and attack. It’s probably more comforting to blame me than to live with the idea that we don’t know where these attacks are coming from or how to stop them.

  Roman doesn’t take me to his office like I expect, but to the dorms—to his room. He leads me in gently, but the moment the door closes, he grabs me and hauls me to him, kissing me.

  I gasp into his mouth, grabbing at his shoulders, surrendering for a moment because, oh God, I need this. I want to forget everything, let the rest of the world disappear for a while and just lose myself in Roman—

  But…

  I pull back, pushing him away slightly. He stops at once, his touch gentling, becoming less frantic.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t—you’ve just had a rough time, I shouldn’t—”

  “No, no, it’s not about that. You’re not taking advantage of me or anything.”

  God, no. I appreciate that he’s checking though, that his first thought is to take care of me, and a rush of warmth fills me. Damn it, when did I become such a sap for him? For all of the men?

  “It’s that…” I blow out a breath. “Tamlin knows. I saw it in her eyes, and I’m sure by now a lot of the students know, or they suspect at least. And we can’t—we have to be careful—”

  Roman shakes his head, a growl working its way up out of his throat. “No,” he says. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. “I don’t care.”

  “You can’t not care—”

  He kisses me again, stealing my breath, and damn it, I love and hate that I’m such a sucker for him. I kiss him back, grabbing at him, letting him slide his hands up underneath my clothes. His touch sears my skin, setting me ablaze in the best way. Just like it always has.

  “We really should stop,” I murmur into his mouth, but God knows I’m not actually making a move to stop him, and my voice comes out breathy and desperate. “We should… we’ll be in so much trouble…”

  “I don’t care,” he repeats, conviction echoing in his voice.

  He should though. We both should.

  It’ll be bad enough if it comes out that he’s sleeping with a student and has been for months, but when that student is the one everyone thinks is a magical thief? And hell, maybe I am—somehow—although I don’t feel like I have Tandy’s or Tom’s or any of the others’ magic inside me. I truly don’t think I stole anyone’s power, not even by accident. But then again, I’m Unpredictable. The whole nature of our magic means we’ve often got no clue what’s going on with it.

  Roman sleeping with a notorious student, a student with the kind of reputation I’ve got right now—it could destroy his career. He could be fired, at the very least. I’m terrified at the thought of it.

  But I can’t make us stop.

  His hands, his mouth, his body on mine, his body in mine—I’m addicted to it. I want him in a way I’ve never quite felt before, a way that borders on need.

  I want to shove away everything that just happened, to forget about my panic attack and the claustrophobia of having my classmates surro
und me and attack me. I want to shove away the paranoia, anger, and helplessness.

  I want there to only be Roman and me.

  Just us, joined, nothing else in the world.

  Maybe he senses my weakening resolve, or maybe he’s just driven by the same need that’s burning through my veins, but he presses me up against the door, attacking my mouth and neck with greedy, demanding lips. I tilt my head up, soaking in the feeling of his mouth on me, trying to give more of myself to him.

  My hands work through his soft, dark hair, mussing up the perfect strands like I’m trying to mark him as mine. When his teeth bite down on the junction of my neck and shoulder and he sucks hard at my skin, it occurs to me that maybe he’s trying to do the same thing—and the thought makes a surge of wetness dampen my panties.

  Jesus. Why is that so fucking hot?

  To be marked by Roman.

  To be claimed by him.

  He releases the bite and runs his tongue over my skin, soothing the sting as I whimper and writhe against him. We’re already smashed up against the door, but I hook my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, fusing our bodies together even closer. My nipples rub against the fabric of my bra as I move against him, the little buds already peaked and sensitive.

  We kiss like that for so long that my lips are swollen and tingly when he finally drags me away from the door. I think he’s going to carry me to the bed, but instead, he sets me down on a low dresser on the opposite wall. Once I’m sitting on it, he unwinds my legs from around his waist and steps back. His lips are red too, and his cobalt eyes are even more intense than usual.

  Without saying a word, he walks to his nightstand and retrieves a condom from the drawer, then comes back and sets it on the dresser. Then he takes the hem of my shirt in both hands.

  “Arms up.”

  I do as he says immediately, watching him closely as he tugs the shirt up and over my head. His gaze scans my body, and his eyes darken. When I glance down, I immediately realize why.

  Bruises and red marks from my attack decorate my skin. Nobody got in a good enough hit to do any real damage, but my body does bear evidence of the fight I just went through. To be honest, I’ve gotten more banged up just sparring before, but… context is everything.

  A low, angry, hot-as-fuck noise falls from Roman’s mouth. His body is tense and radiates danger like a predator about to strike, but when he lowers his head and kisses a bruise on my right shoulder, his touch is heart-wrenchingly gentle. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra as he presses a kiss to another small bruise. Then he works on my pants and panties, and I kick off my shoes as he slides the garments down my legs.

  He kisses every single mark on my body before he lets me take his shirt off. When I finally get my hands on the warm skin of his chest, I swear it feels like fucking heaven. He’s so solid and masculine, his large form making me feel smaller than my 5’8” stature, and I love it.

  My hands go to his button and fly, and then I push his pants down just enough to free his cock. I lick my palm, and he lets out a harsh groan, his breath picking up, as I work my hand over his smooth, velvety shaft. He shoves his pants the rest of the way down and steps out of them, thrusting his hips against my strokes.

  “Fuck, Elliot.” His words are a groan, a deep murmur, like they’re being pulled out of some primal part of him. “I need you. Do you even know how much?”

  He pushes my legs wider apart, then his own hand finds my pussy and he drags a finger up my folds before circling my clit. He slides two fingers inside me, and when he feels how wet I am already, his cock throbs in my grip.

  “Condom.”

  At his harsh, one-word command, I release him immediately, groping for the little packet on the dresser beside me. I tear it open and slide it on him, my core already clenching hard, my clit throbbing. I can’t wait any longer. I need this yesterday.

  When the condom is secure, he wraps an arm around me, tugging me closer to him so my ass is just barely on the dresser.

  He grasps my chin with his other hand, and when I meet his gaze, raw desire stares back at me.

  “Look down, Reckless. I want you to watch me fill you up. I want you to see how your body takes me. How fucking perfect it is.”

  A shudder works through me at his words. I swear, the tongue on this man could make me come in more ways than one.

  He releases my chin, fisting his cock and lining himself up with my entrance, and I do watch. I watch the broad head nudge apart my folds, watch my body welcome him in, and it’s one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever seen. I wish we were bare, skin-to-skin entirely, nothing between us, and I resolve that one day soon, we will be.

  I need to feel him like that.

  He pushes into me slowly, agonizingly slowly, and both our gazes are riveted to the connection between us.

  When he’s completely rooted inside me, he holds onto my hip with one hand while his other thumb finds my clit. Then he begins to thrust, circling his thumb in time to his movements, and it feels too fucking good. I breathe in soft pants, holding onto his shoulders for balance as he sets up a punishing pace, like he’s trying to claim me in this way too.

  My legs are wrapped around him, heels digging into the muscles of his ass, which flex as he thrusts hard and deep. The dresser smacks against the wall, the rhythmic sound mingling with our heavy grunts and moans. I lose myself in the sensations as he drives into me, letting them wash over me, overwhelm me, sweep me away.

  And I realize I got my wish.

  Right now, there’s nothing in the universe but Roman and me.

  “Oh God. Roman… I…”

  I can’t form a full sentence. I can’t form a full thought. My body is spiraling, and at this point, I don’t think there’s any damn blood left in my head. It’s all gone south for the winter.

  “I’ve got you, Reckless,” he grunts, picking up the pace until it becomes almost frantic, teetering on the edge of control. “I’ll always have you. Let go. Let go and come for me. Scream for me.”

  As if it was just waiting for the command, my body obliges, hurling me off a cliff into an orgasm so intense it feels like I’m coming apart at the seams. My head tips back and I scream out his name, convulsing around him as he groans.

  He cups my face again, running the thumb that was teasing my clit over the seam of my lips before slipping it inside my mouth. I taste myself on his skin, and I bite down, clamping his thumb between my teeth and sucking hard as his thrusts grow wilder, more unrestrained.

  “Fuck, Elliot. Fuck. Fuck.”

  The last word is punctuated by a heavy roll of his hips as his cock pulses inside me, his orgasm drawing out for several long moments. He slides his thumb out of my mouth, and I see little teeth marks on it from where I bit down. My pussy clenches around him again, and he lets out a stuttered groan. Then he palms the back of my head and kisses me long and deep.

  When we finally break the kiss, he secures the condom and pulls out. Then he tosses it into the nearby trash can before lifting me from the dresser and carrying me over to the bed.

  Roman has never been… well, he’s not cold or anything in the afterglow. He’s caring and will sling an arm over me or let me rest in the crook of his armpit. But I’ve always been the one keeping a distance, and he’s aware of that—he doesn’t push for more or get too cuddly or romantic.

  Today though, as we lie together on the bed, he curls around me and holds on like he’ll never let go.

  I reach my hand up, gently pushing back his dark hair, running the tip of my finger down the line of his slightly hooked nose—broken long ago, I assume, in some kind of fight.

  “You’re worried for me,” I whisper. It’s not a question.

  Roman swallows. His beautiful cobalt eyes have little flecks of silver near the iris, but you can only tell when you get almost nose-to-nose with him, the way I am now. They’re mesmerizing, and they almost seem to glow sometimes, as if a light is shining from inside.

  “Yo
u looked—when I came in there—” His jaw clenches. “You were surrounded. I couldn’t even see you with all the students around you.” He huffs out a dark bite of laughter. “It was almost like one of those stupid zombie movies where they all converge on a person to tear them apart. And you… I don’t know if you even know it, but you were yelling when I came in. I could hear something in your voice that I never—”

  He shakes his head, then takes my hand, squeezing tightly.

  “I never want you to feel like that again. To be… attacked like that again. And I don’t care what the consequences are, I will protect you.” A small smile tilts his lips, although his eyes remain serious. “I know you’re capable of defending yourself, this isn’t about that. I don’t think you’re weak or need a lot of protecting; you’re one of the strongest women I know. But we all have moments where we’re overwhelmed or are hit with more than we can take, and I won’t—I can’t—let that happen to you. And if I do lose my job over it, so be it.”

  I blink up at him.

  Holy shit.

  My eyes are getting hot and wet again, only this time, it’s not from panic but from just being completely overwhelmed. He cares so much, more than I could have ever thought possible. More than I thought someone—anyone—could care about me. Anyone other than Maddy, I mean.

  “Don’t cry,” Roman says, half laughing, half reassuring. He kisses my knuckles softly. “It’s going to be okay, love. We’ll find a way to deal with everything.”

  I don’t think he even notices the endearment that slips out, but it makes my heart skip a beat.

  Shit, I’m so done for. I’m turning into a sap, it’s official.

  “I do feel better,” I murmur, breathing in his whiskey and leather scent. “And a lot of that is thanks to you. But… you have to admit, this is pretty damn impulsive for a guy like you.”