Chapter 60: The Weight of Ownership

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: The Weight of Ownership

"You’re going to be the death of me," he whispered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, and Alexander’s smile widened, into a rare, genuine expression. "Of course."

He returned to his desk. There were still several matters requiring his attention, and although his concentration wasn’t what it had been before Iris entered his life, he forced himself to work.

But looking at the large desk, the faint scent of their passion still clinging to the air, and the vivid thought of what had transpired there, made his slacks feel uncomfortably tight again.

He groaned, a low, frustrated sound, forcing himself to focus on the glowing screen before him, and nothing else.

Hours passed. By the time Iris finally stirred, the daylight outside had begun to fade into a dusky glow. She groaned softly, a low, throaty sound, and stretched beneath the blanket, her body still heavy with sleep.

Her eyes remained closed for a moment longer. Then, she felt an uncomfortable sensation between her legs, a lingering tenderness that reminded her of what had transpired. Her brow furrowed, a faint crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Fragments of memory began returning: of Alexander, going into his office with him. The low, intense conversation, the searing kiss, and finally, the fierce sex.

Her eyes flew open. She sat upright so quickly that the blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist. For several seconds, she stared around the unfamiliar room, then realization struck with the force of a physical blow.

"Shit."

She was still in Alexander’s office, at the university. She looked toward the windows, noticing that the sunlight was already low, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Her heart lurched. She pushed the blanket aside and stood, her movements a little stiff and a little unsteady. Then she turned, and she saw him.

Alexander was sitting behind his desk, perfectly composed in his expensive suit, his laptop open before him, his fingers moving across the keyboard with an almost unnerving calm, as though nothing unusual had happened.

His tie was perfectly arranged, his sleeves were immaculate, his dark hair was still in place, not a strand out of place from when she had tangled her fingers in it during their intimacy.

Iris stared at him, then her gaze dropped to the plush leather chair he was currently seated on. Memories flooded back with an embarrassing clarity – the way her legs had wrapped around him, the tilt of her head, the raw, uninhibited sounds she had made.

Heat rushed into her cheeks, a furious blush that spread across her chest. She immediately looked away, her eyes darting to a nearby bookshelf, anything to avoid his gaze.

Alexander, sensing her awareness, the barest hint of a smile touched his mouth, into a quiet, knowing curve.

"You’ve finally decided to rejoin the living. How are you feeling?" His voice, deep and smooth, held a trace of amusement.

Iris ignored the teasing, her mind already racing. "How long was I asleep?" she asked, her voice a little breathless, a little tight.

Alexander closed the laptop with a soft click, his gaze never leaving her. "Nearly five hours."

Her eyes widened, incredulous. "Five hours?"

He stood, moving with an effortless grace that belied the powerful physique beneath his tailored suit. "How are you feeling?" he repeated, his tone now softer, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"I’m fine." Her answer came too quickly, too sharp, betraying the truth of her racing pulse.

Alexander walked toward her, his proximity a tangible force. "Are you certain? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I’m okay," she insisted, taking a half-step back, though she wasn’t sure if it was from his intensity or her own discomfort.

He stopped in front of her, his height a dominant presence. "Because you’ve been asleep for hours, and I’d rather know if you’re uncomfortable than have you pretend you’re fine simply because you’re embarrassed about it."

"I said I’m fine," she reiterated, her voice a little more firm this time, though the blush on her cheeks deepened.

He studied her face, his gaze searching, assessing. Then, perhaps forgetting that she was still struggling to process everything, he leaned down, the significant height difference requiring him to lower his head considerably, clearly intending to kiss her.

Iris instinctively stepped back, a small, involuntary movement that brought him up short. Alexander stopped immediately, his brows drawing together, a faint flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

His left hand slipped into his trouser pocket, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. For a moment, he simply looked at her, his expression carefully neutral.

"I thought we were past this," he finally said, his voice quiet, almost a statement of fact rather than a question, but the underlying tension was palpable.

Iris frowned, genuinely confused. "Past what?"

"The part where you recoil whenever I try to kiss you."

Her expression changed, a flash of defensiveness. "I wasn’t recoiling."

"You stepped away when I leaned down to kiss you."

"Because you surprised me," she retorted, heat rising in her again, this time from annoyance.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly, a dangerous glint entering them. "After everything that happened between us today, you were surprised that I wanted to kiss you?"

"Alexander," she began, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice, "I just woke up in your office after being unconscious for almost five hours. I think I’m allowed to be surprised."

A slow smile, dangerously alluring, appeared on his face. "Unconscious?" he repeated, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"I meant asleep," she corrected quickly, her blush deepening even further.

"That’s considerably better," he drawled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Lest it be seen that I made love to you till you became unconscious."

She gave him an exasperated look, her cheeks warming yet again. Before she could answer, her eyes drifted toward the windows again, where the last vestiges of daylight were rapidly fading. The sight made her stomach drop. She turned sharply toward the wall clock, its hands moving with an alarming speed.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Alexander glanced at his expensive watch, a heavy piece of metal against his wrist. "Almost four pm."

"Four?" she breathed, the single word a gasp. She spun around, her eyes wide with dawning horror. "Oh my God." She hurried around him, her gaze sweeping frantically across the floor. "Where are my shoes?"

"They’re beside the sofa."

She spotted them and immediately sat down to put them on, her movements clumsy in her haste. She completely forgot that she wasn’t wearing any underwear, due to Alexander ripping it in their moment of ecstasy. As she bent to wear her shoe, her skirt rode up, literally flashing Alexander with a full, uninhibited view of her womanly parts.

Alexander, seeing that, let out a low groan, his composure cracking for the barest second. He cleared his throat, his gaze immediately snapping away, fixing his tie with deliberate movements, trying desperately to calm the sudden, insistent tightening in his slacks.

"I’ve been here since late morning... that’s insane." She slipped one shoe on, her fingers fumbling with the buckle. "People saw me come in here with you."

"Yes, they did," he said, his voice perfectly composed once more, though a faint muscle twitched in his jaw.

"And they didn’t see me leave." Her second shoe nearly slipped from her fingers, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "They’re going to think something happened."

Alexander leaned against the desk, his arms crossed, a knowing glint in his eyes as he watched her rising panic. "Something did happen."

She shot him a glare, a frantic desperation coloring her features. "That is not helping."

His mouth twitched, a barely suppressed smile threatening to break through. "You’re overthinking this."

"I’m not overthinking anything, Alexander! Do you know what the Campus Pulse app is like? People practically live for reading gossip from there. The entire university already knows you’re teaching here. They saw me walking into your office with you, and now I’ve been inside for five hours."

She covered her face with both hands, the weight of the potential scandal crushing. "This is a disaster. Oh my god!" she exclaimed frantically, her voice muffled. "I hope this doesn’t end up in the school pulse app, because then... my university life will practically be over."

Alexander’s amusement deepened, a low, satisfied hum emanating from him. "Iris."

"What?" she mumbled, her hands still pressed against her face.

"Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her hands, her eyes wide and worried as she met his gaze.

"You have nothing to worry about." His voice was calm, utterly assured.

"How can you possibly know that?" she challenged, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Because I own the university."

Iris froze. Her hands, which had been resting limply by her sides, slowly, deliberately, lowered even further, her jaw slack. "You what?" she whispered, the words barely audible.

Alexander straightened, the shift in his posture subtle but powerful, radiating an undeniable authority. "I own Emerald Heights University."

She stared at him, her mind struggling to process the impossible information. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with a new, overwhelming revelation.

"No fucking way..."