The tent was bigger on the inside than it looked from outside—thanks to Aiden’s system-made magic tent. Each person had their own futon spread neatly on the ground. The only rule was simple: if you wanted a spot beside Aiden, you had to fight for it.
Earlier, Lysandra had said calmly, "Arisha will be sleeping beside Sir Aiden tonight. His other side is free."
That instantly turned into chaos.
"Stone! Paper! Scissor!" Luna, Nyxion, and Thristle shouted together, hands shooting forward.
Luna grinned. "Ha! Paper beats rock. I win!"
"Ughhh!" Nyxion groaned, slumping. "Heartlord, it’s rigged. I should’ve been the one."
Thristle laughed. "I lost on purpose. Didn’t wanna be squished between your obsessive hugs anyway."
So it was decided. Aiden’s left had Arisha, his right had Luna. Next to Luna was Nyxion, then Thristle.
On the far side, Zera was curled up in her futon next to Vegia.
Vegia was already asleep, hair falling loose over her pillow. But Zera had horrible sleeping habits—her arm kept flopping across Vegia’s face.
"Mmhh... Zera... move... your hand..." Vegia mumbled, half asleep, trying to shove her off.
"Snrk—zzzz..." Zera drooled, completely gone.
"Ughhh..." Vegia groaned.
Aiden lay on his futon, Luna’s tail curled around his waist like a blanket. On his left, Arisha was stiff, lying perfectly straight, clearly too tense to relax.
Everyone else slowly drifted into deep sleep. Ivy was hugging Fluffynugget like a stuffed toy. Leona was snuggled against Lysandra. Nyxion clung to Luna’s back even in dreams, muttering, "Heartlord... mine..." while Thristle snored like she hadn’t a care in the world.
Only Aiden and Arisha remained awake.
Aiden whispered, "Not sleepy?"
Arisha blinked, her red eyes turning toward him in the dim glow of the fading lantern. "...Not really. You?"
"Sa. Hard to sleep with so many people stuffed in one place." He chuckled softly.
Arisha hesitated, then asked quietly, "...Does it bother you? Them fighting to be by your side?"
He smiled faintly. "It’s more funny than botherso. Makes feel... wanted, I guess."
Her lips curved slightly. "...That’s because you are. You saved them. You saved all of us."
He turned his head, studying her face. She tried to look calm, but her cheeks were pink. "...You’re giving too much credit. I just did what I could."
"You always say that," she murmured. "But... you did more than just ’what you could.’ You made feel safe. That... doesn’t happen often."
Aiden smirked softly. "Coming from you, the stoic knight, that’s a big confession."
She looked away, embarrassed. "...Don’t tease ."
He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. "But it’s cute when you get shy."
Her heartbeat quickened; she could practically hear it in her ears. "...You like making flustered, don’t you?"
"Maybe," he admitted with a grin. "But only because you’re adorable when you’re like this."
Arisha’s face turned even redder. She grabbed her blanket, pulling it up to hide half her face. "Stop... calling adorable."
He reached over and gently tugged the blanket down. "Nope. I’ll keep saying it. Adorable. Beautiful. Everything."
Her breath caught. "...You’re too much."
Silence stretched between them for a mont, broken only by the sound of soft snores around the tent.
Then Aiden whispered, "...Arisha."
She turned, eyes wide at the tone in his voice. "...Yes?"
"Are you ready?" His words were quiet, teasing, but also careful—like he was asking sothing more than just physical.
Her lips parted slightly. She hesitated, fidgeted with the edge of her blanket, then gave the smallest nod. "...I am. For you, I am."
Aiden’s chest tightened. He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You sure? I don’t wanna push you."
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again with a shy but determined look. "...I’ve never been more sure of anything."
Her voice trembled, but she didn’t look away.
Aiden’s thumb stroked across her cheek slowly, his touch warr than the blanket wrapped around her. "Arisha..." he whispered again, her na softer this ti, like he was savoring it.
Her lips parted just a little. "Y-you keep saying my na like that... it’s unfair."
"What’s unfair?" he teased gently, leaning closer. Their faces were barely a hand’s span apart now.
"You make it sound like... I belong to you," she said, cheeks blazing.
Aiden smirked, his voice low. "That’s because you do."
Her eyes widened, her heart hamring. She grabbed at his futon, as if steadying herself. "...Say it again."
"You’re mine, Arisha," he said, his tone soft but firm, no hesitation in it.
She shivered, closing her eyes for a mont. "...I want that. I want to be yours. Completely."
His hand slid down from her cheek, brushing her jaw, then to her collarbone where her blanket had slipped a little. Her skin heated under his touch.
"Tell to stop if it’s too much," Aiden murmured.
She shook her head instantly, voice barely audible. "...Don’t stop."
He leaned closer, their breaths mingling. He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closing. "You’re beautiful, Arisha."
Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. "And you... you drive crazy."
Their lips brushed, a feather-light touch, testing. She gasped softly at the warmth, her chest pressing against his side.
When he pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, dazed. "Why’d you stop?"
"Because," he whispered, a teasing smile tugging at his lips, "I like watching you want more."
Her blush deepened, but her grip on his shirt tightened. "...Then don’t make beg."
He chuckled low in his throat, finally closing the distance fully this ti. Their lips t in a real kiss—slow, gentle, lingering. Her soft gasp lted into it as she kissed him back, shy but desperate, her whole body trembling with the newness of it.
When they broke apart, she hid her face in his chest, voice muffled. "...I don’t just want a kiss."
His hand stilled for a mont. "...You sure?"
She looked up at him, eyes shining even through her blush. "...I told you. I’m ready. If it’s with you."
He kissed her again, slow this ti, letting his hand rest lightly at the base of her neck. Arisha’s whole body went liquid against him. She clung to his shirt like it was a rope and she was a ship in a storm, breath coming faster, small, hungry sounds slipping free.
"Shh," he murmured, but his mouth never left hers. "You’ll wake soone."
She broke the kiss, forehead against his, voice husky. "Let them hear."
He snorted softly, half-teasing, half-awed. "I thought you were the disciplined knight."
She blinked, eyes dark and unguarded. "I am. For battle. Not for you."
Heat pooled low in his chest. He liked that—how she could be a fortress and then lt for him like this. He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "You’re reckless," he said.
"You started it," she whispered, and smiled in the dark, the kind of smile that made sothing soft and dangerous stir inside him.
Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his head closer as she kissed him back, firr now.
He let his hand drift over her shoulder, across the soft curve.
"You know," she breathed, words breathy and a little broken, "I don’t like being—vulnerable."
"You do now," he said softly. "You’re doing it for ."
Her lips found his again, and this ti there was a tremor in her kiss — not fear, but surrender. The tremor made a small sound that might have been a moan, small and involuntary. Aiden steadied her with a hand at the small of her back. He felt her fingers digging into his shirt, felt her pulse stutter under his palm.
Aiden eased back a fraction and t her eyes. They were bright, frank, raw. "Say it," he whispered. "Tell what you want."
She swallowed. The answer looked like a tear caught and held with courage. "I want... you," she said plainly. "All of you. Close. Safe. Here."
His smile was small and slow. It ward him more than the blankets. "Good," he said. "Because I want you too."
He kissed her again, softer now, worshipful. Fingers moved along her spine, explored the slope of her shoulders. She arched against him, a quiet sound leaving her throat.
Arisha’s breath hitched and she let out a low, involuntary moan — not loud, not obscene, just a raw sound that made Aiden’s own pulse quicken.
"Careful," she whispered between kisses. "Soone’s right there."
Nyxion sighed in his sleep, half-mumbling sothing about "Heartlord." Thristle made a content little sound.
"Then be quieter," he teased, pressing a kiss under her ear. She shivered, clutching him tighter.
Her hands moved with shy boldness, tracing his chest and stomach, eager and shaky.
Her hands moved with shy boldness, mapping his shoulders, tracing invisible lines. She learned the easy geography of him: where his breath was softest, where his heartbeat thrumd loud enough to hear, how his lips felt under hers when she leaned in. He learned her answers: where she pressed back, where she relaxed, the pitch of her small noises that told him she was fondling at the edge of losing herself.
At so point they slid a little closer, bodies warm and folding into each other, the blanket bunching around them in cozy disarray.
Arisha’s whispery moans ca more frequently, low and vulnerable. They were small and private, the kind of sounds that could be shrugged off as sleep-talk to anyone else. He let them continue because they were honest and lovely.
When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper of silk. "Promise sothing?" she asked.
"Anything," he said.
"Whatever happens," she murmured, "don’t—don’t let this be only for tonight."
He pulled back just enough to look at her properly, into her eyes that shined with sothing like hope. "It won’t," he promised. "This... us... it’s not a one-night thing."
Relief flooded her features. She laughed, small and breathless, and kissed him until the laugh dissolved into another soft sound.
His hand slid down, tracing her side, squeezing at her waist before moving lower, cupping the curve of her hip.
Arisha let out a soft, shaky breath, chest pushing forward. He didn’t miss it — his palm slid up, fingers closing over her breast. Firm squeeze. She gasped into his mouth, body tensing, then lting.
"Ah... Sir..." she whispered, voice breaking.
He pinched lightly through the thin cloth, rolling her nipple until she whimpered, grabbing at his arm.
"You’re so sensitive," he muttered, pressing his lips down her neck, sucking slow.
Her back arched, her breasts straining against the nightgown. His hand moved under, skin to skin now, warm and heavy in his grip. She moaned, biting her lip hard to keep quiet.
He squeezed harder, thumb flicking her nipple, then switched to the other, making her body twitch.
Her thighs pressed together, restless, needy. "Y-you’re driving insane..."
He smirked against her collarbone, sliding his hand down over her flat stomach, gripping her hip. A slow grind of his thumb across the side made her jolt.
Then his fingers hooked at the hem of her gown, tugging it up inch by inch.
Her breath caught. "Sir..."
"Relax," he whispered, kissing her again, hand sliding under the fabric, skimming her bare skin, higher and higher until his palm covered her breast again — this ti without anything in between.
Her nipple hardened instantly against his fingers, her body arching into him. "Mmhh... ahh..."
He gave her a rough squeeze, then pinched, just to hear the sound spill from her lips. She buried her face in his chest, muffling her moans, clutching his shirt like she might tear it.
"Cute," he breathed, kissing her hair.
His other hand slid down, over her waist, her hip, gripping tight before squeezing her ass through the gown. She jerked, letting out a muffled squeak.
"Sir... not there—ahh!"
He pinched lightly, kneading her until her legs trembled. "Everywhere," he muttered.
Her hands moved too, shaking but eager — sliding along his chest, his stomach, down his side. She wanted more, and he could feel it.
He tugged her gown upward, higher and higher, until her thighs were almost bare. Her breathing went ragged.
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END OF Chapter : 96 : ARISHA IS FINALLY GIVING IN!
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