The Extra's Rise-Chapter 540: A Golden Birthday (5)

Rachel stirred to the sensation of something lightly prodding her cheek, drawing her from the depths of peaceful sleep. Her sapphire eyes fluttered open slowly, taking several moments to adjust to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. When her vision finally focused, she found Arthur sitting upright beside her, his finger gently poking her cheek with an infuriatingly amused grin playing on his lips.

"Mmhh," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and carrying the warm, drowsy tone that came from deep rest. A flutter of pure joy sparked in her chest—waking up to his face was a privilege she’d never take for granted. "What are you doing?"

Arthur’s chuckle was soft and melodious, his tone carrying that familiar teasing quality she had grown to both love and find exasperating. "Making sure you wake up before noon, Rach. I’d hate for you to sleep away half the day."

It was only then that she noticed—he was topless. Her breath hitched slightly, and she felt her mouth go dry as her eyes traveled across his form. ’Mine,’ whispered a possessive voice in her mind, one that she kept carefully hidden beneath her saintly exterior. His body was a perfect blend of athleticism and artistry, sculpted by years of rigorous training yet maintaining an elegant grace that spoke to his natural refinement. The soft lines of his abs were clearly defined without being overly pronounced, his physique striking that impeccable balance between raw strength and aesthetic beauty.

And then there was his face. That sharp jawline that could cut glass, those striking azure eyes framed by long silver hair that caught the morning light like spun moonbeams—he was maddeningly, unfairly handsome. Her heart skipped a beat as memories of the previous night flooded back, bringing with them a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets. The memory of his hands on her skin, his whispered adorations, the way he’d claimed her so completely... A secret thrill of satisfaction coursed through her. No one else would ever know him like this. No one else would ever see him vulnerable and breathless with desire. He was hers, and she was his, in the most intimate way possible.

"Ow," Rachel winced as she attempted to sit up, a sharp pang of soreness radiating from her waist and lower back. Her face twisted into a slight grimace before she exhaled deeply, her hands beginning to glow with the soft, golden radiance of her light magic as she channeled healing energy to soothe the lingering discomfort. Even as she healed herself, part of her wanted to keep the soreness—a secret reminder of their passionate night together, proof that it hadn’t been just another beautiful dream.

Arthur’s expression immediately shifted to one of concern, his eyebrows drawing together as he watched her carefully. "Are you alright? Did I—"

"I’ll survive," she interrupted, her lips curling into a small but decidedly playful smirk despite the ache that reminded her of exactly how thorough he had been. The soreness was worth it—every moment of it. "Though I might need to seriously reconsider ever letting you have your way with me again."

It was a lie, of course. She’d let him have his way with her every night for the rest of eternity if she could. The very thought of another woman even looking at him the way she did made something dark and possessive coil in her stomach, though she kept her expression serene.

Arthur’s grin returned, wider than before, but he held back whatever quip was clearly forming on his tongue. Instead, he reached out with gentle fingers to brush a stray strand of golden hair from her face, his touch feather-light and tender. "You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for, Princess."

Rachel leaned into his touch instinctively, her sapphire eyes softening as they met his. The nickname, spoken in that particular tone, never failed to make her feel cherished—and fiercely territorial. He was the only one allowed to call her that. The only one who ever would be. "Well, you’ll have to manage without me until after Seraphina and Rose’s turn comes around."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue. Sharing him was a necessary evil of their arrangement, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Already, she was counting the hours until it would be her turn again, calculating how she might subtly extend their next encounter.

"I’ll survive," Arthur replied with mock solemnity, "but will you, my insatiable Saintess?"

The teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable, and Rachel felt her cheeks warm at the implication. She arched an eyebrow, her tone sharpening with mock challenge. "Oh? Is that a gauntlet you’re throwing down, Nightingale?"

"It is," he replied without hesitation, leaning forward to pinch her nose lightly between his fingers. Her expression immediately soured into an adorable scowl, and she swatted his hand away with more force than necessary.

"You’re absolutely insufferable," Rachel declared, though the fondness in her voice undermined any real irritation. Then, as memories of the previous night became more vivid, her expression shifted to something approaching a pout. "And you bullied me way too much last night."

The memories sent a secret thrill through her. No one else got to see him like that—dominant and commanding, yet so tender with her. She was the only one who knew how his voice got rough with desire, how his control would slip when she touched him just right.

Arthur’s grin became decidedly more mischievous. "Bullied you? I seem to remember you enjoying every second of it."

"That’s not the point," Rachel protested, her pout becoming more pronounced even as warmth pooled in her stomach at the memory. "You were relentless. I lost count of how many times you made me—" She cut herself off, her cheeks flaming as she realized what she was about to say. The complete and utter bliss he’d given her was their secret, a treasure she hoarded jealously.

"Made you what?" Arthur asked innocently, though his eyes danced with mischief.

"You know exactly what," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him with as much dignity as she could muster while still wrapped in blankets. The way he could reduce her to a trembling, pleading mess was simultaneously embarrassing and incredibly satisfying. He did that only for her. Only she could bring out that intensity in him. "Don’t play innocent with me."

Arthur shrugged with elaborate casualness, as if her accusation was the most reasonable thing in the world. "I was just teasing you because you’re cute when you get all flustered. It’s not my fault you’re so responsive."

Responsive. The word sent another secret thrill through her. She was responsive to him and him alone. No one else would ever see her come undone the way he did. The possessive satisfaction of that knowledge made her pulse quicken.

"Cute?" Rachel’s voice rose an octave, her face growing even redder. "You think reducing me to a babbling mess is cute?"

"Incredibly cute," Arthur confirmed with absolutely no shame whatsoever. "Especially when you make those little sounds—"

"Arthur!" Rachel grabbed a pillow and launched it at his head with surprising accuracy. He caught it easily, laughing at her mortification. Those sounds were for him alone—another intimate secret between them that made her heart race with possessive joy.

"See? Adorable," he said, which only made her reach for another pillow.

"You’re terrible," she muttered, though she couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "Absolutely terrible. I don’t know why I put up with you."

Because she loved him with an intensity that sometimes frightened her. Because the thought of losing him made her chest tight with panic. Because she’d do anything—absolutely anything—to keep him by her side.

"Because you love me?" Arthur suggested helpfully.

"That’s debatable right now," Rachel shot back, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Love was too mild a word for what she felt. Obsession, devotion, desperate need—those came closer to the truth.

"Well played," Arthur conceded with a grin, watching as Rachel swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. She stretched her arms languidly above her head, working out the kinks from sleep and the previous night’s activities. The blanket slipped off her form and pooled around her feet, leaving her completely exposed to the morning light.

Arthur froze, his eyes inevitably drawn to appreciate the elegant curves and soft lines of her figure. Even after everything they had shared, the sight of her still had the power to steal his breath away.

Rachel caught his gaze instantly, noting the way his eyes darkened with renewed interest. A surge of feminine triumph and possessive satisfaction rushed through her. This was her power over him—the way she could make him lose his composure with just a look, just the sight of her bare skin. Her lips curled into a sly, victorious grin. "Well, well, looks like you’ve already lost our little competition."

"That doesn’t count as a loss," Arthur retorted, though the slight flush creeping up his neck betrayed his affected nonchalance.

"Staring doesn’t count, perhaps," Rachel said, her voice taking on a sing-song quality as she reached for her silk robe, deliberately taking her time with the movement. She reveled in the way his eyes followed her every movement, in the hunger she could see building in his gaze. This was theirs—this desire, this need for each other. "But the fact that you clearly want to pounce on me again definitely does."

Arthur’s expression shifted, and Rachel could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "Say... with your healing magic, couldn’t you—"

"No," Rachel cut him off sharply, shooting him a look that was equal parts exasperation and fond affection. Even as she refused, part of her was already considering it. The temptation to heal herself completely so they could spend the entire day in bed together was almost overwhelming. But she had duties, and a father. "Absolutely not. And you called me insatiable."

"Only because you are," he quipped without missing a beat.

He wasn’t wrong. She was insatiable when it came to him—for his touch, his attention, his love. She wanted all of him, all the time, and the intensity of that need sometimes scared her.

Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her genuine amusement. "Come on, let’s get ready before you get any more... excited ideas."

"You shouldn’t tease me if you don’t want me to get ideas," Arthur shot back, his tone carrying an edge of playful accusation.

Rachel fixed him with her most imperious stare, crossing her arms in mock indignation. "Oh, you better take that back, Nightingale. I wasn’t the one doing the teasing last night."

"Weren’t you?" Arthur asked with raised eyebrows. "Because I distinctly remember someone wearing that particular nightgown specifically to drive me crazy."

Rachel’s cheeks burned as she remembered her careful selection of the most provocative item in her wardrobe. She’d spent nearly an hour choosing it, imagining his reaction, planning exactly how to make him lose control. The memory of his sharp intake of breath when he’d first seen her made her pulse quicken with satisfaction. "That was... strategic."

Strategic and effective. She’d gotten exactly the reaction she’d wanted—his complete and undivided attention, his desperate need for her that matched her own desperate need for him.

"Strategic torture, maybe," Arthur muttered.

"Just go and change," Rachel said, forcing herself to look away from his admittedly distracting physique, though her resolve wavered as she stole one last glance at the way the morning light played across his shoulders. She coughed delicately, as if that would somehow disguise her wandering eyes. Every inch of him was precious to her, memorized and treasured.

"Look who’s talking about staring now," Arthur observed with amusement.

"I wasn’t staring," Rachel protested weakly.

"No? Then what would you call it?"

"Appreciating," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. Appreciating what was hers. What belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to him. freёweɓnovel.com

"Ah, appreciating. Of course. How different," Arthur said solemnly, though his eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Honestly, you’re hopeless," Rachel muttered, though her own cheeks were turning a telling shade of pink as more memories from the previous night surfaced unbidden in her mind. The way he had looked at her, touched her, whispered her name like a prayer... Each memory was a treasure she hoarded, proof of their connection that no one else could share. She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the heat creeping up her face and the traitorous warmth pooling in her stomach.

"Says the woman who’s blushing just thinking about last night," Arthur observed with far too much satisfaction.

"I am not blushing," Rachel lied, which only made Arthur’s grin widen. The blush was from happiness as much as embarrassment—pure joy at the memory of being so completely his.

"Of course not. That’s just your natural complexion."

"You’re a beast," she called over her shoulder as she grabbed her robe and headed toward the bathroom, her voice carrying a mix of fond exasperation and teasing affection. "An absolute, incorrigible beast."

Her beast, though. Completely and utterly hers, just as she was his.

"And yet you love me anyway," Arthur called after her.

Rachel paused in the doorway, looking back at him with an expression that was soft despite her protests. Love didn’t begin to cover what she felt for him. It was love, yes, but also possession, devotion, an almost frightening need to be everything to him.

"Unfortunately for my sanity, yes. Yes, I do."

The sound of running water soon filled the air as Rachel started her shower, but not before Arthur caught her muttering something about "impossible men" and "too charming for their own good." What he couldn’t hear was her whispered addition: "Thank the gods you’re mine."

As the warm water cascaded over her, Rachel smiled to herself. Because no matter how many others might need her healing touch or kind words, Arthur would always be her greatest love, her deepest obsession, her most closely guarded secret.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.