The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 927

Chapter 927: Crossed Lines

Curtis stared at her like she’d just committed a felony.

"I might be a shit bag, an uptight, rigid, insufferable, stubborn, emotionally constipated control freak," he snapped, leaning closer, "and you just had to be impatient, impulsive, infuriating, irrational, and absolutely insane—"

They were practically nose to nose now.

"But even in spite of all that," he continued through gritted teeth, "I have never once wished you hadn’t returned."

Eden’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down.

"Oh really?" she shot back. "Because you sure don’t look thrilled most days!"

"That’s because you drive me insane!"

"And you don’t think you do the same to me?!"

Their voices overlapped, rising and clashing, the air between them thick with frustration that was so obviously rooted in something else.

"Just who on Solaris would be able to survive you?!" Curtis exclaimed.

"Well, let me go and ask," Eden fired back, anger flaring in her eyes. "Someone’s bound to be crazy enough!"

"!!!"

The normally calm deputy officer felt his patience snap as his head rang with those words.

As if he were gambling his life away, his hand shot out, gripping her face like he’d made a decision he couldn’t take back.

He yanked her forward.

And kissed her.

Hard.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t hesitant. It was searing and furious and raw, years of bottled frustration and unresolved what-ifs crashing together all at once.

For once, he’d initiated it.

For once, he’d lost control.

When their lips finally parted, both of them were breathing hard.

Eden stared at him, momentarily stunned, chest rising too fast, eyes still unfocused from the sudden intensity of it all.

Curtis swallowed. He looked like he was about to say something. Probably an apology. Probably something stupid about losing his cool when he had always been strong enough to hold at least that much for years.

But the woman in front of him beat him to it.

"Curtis," Eden muttered, her voice low, a little rough around the edges. "This’ll probably be a bad idea..."

She didn’t look away when she said it.

"But at least for tonight, please make up your mind."

His brows furrowed.

"Are we fighting," she continued, gaze locking onto his, "or are we... fucking?"

"!!!"

"Because I’d much rather prefer the latter option," Eden added quietly through her lashes.

Curtis dragged a hand through his hair, disbelief written all over his face. He let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, then shook his head once, as if trying to knock some sense back into himself.

The latch of his collar clicked softly as he tugged at it, like he needed the extra space just to breathe.

"Haaa..."

"...Fuck it," he muttered under his breath.

Then he leaned in again.

This time, it was deliberate.

They crashed into each other.

Mouths met hard, teeth clicking faintly before settling into something rough and urgent, the kiss messy and breathless, like neither of them had the patience to figure out who had deepened it first. It wasn’t careful, wasn’t slow. It was need slamming into need, all friction and heat and momentum.

Limbs tangled without thought.

Curtis shoved the hovercraft’s center console down in a sharp motion, the barrier giving way with a muted mechanical whirr as Eden surged closer at the same time. Their movements collided, clumsy only for a second before turning desperate, her head tipping back so his mouth could follow, her hands grabbing at his collar and neck like she was hauling him in rather than holding on.

Curtis didn’t lean in so much as collide with her movement, the space between them disappearing as he hauled her across the gap in one rough motion.

She hit his lap on the driver’s seat with a soft jolt, knees bracketing him, the sudden closeness doing absolutely nothing to cool the heat between them.

Their mouths broke apart only long enough for breath to be dragged in, foreheads nearly touching, the tension snapping right back into place.

"You’re going to be the death of me," Curtis breathed, the words torn out of him between shallow breaths.

Eden dove back in for another kiss between breaths, teeth grazing before she pulled back just enough to speak.

"I’ll be sure to carve that on your gravestone," she shot back.

Then, softer, with a crooked little smile,

"But if possible, try to survive tonight."

Her hand moved, fingers brushing a control panel as she pressed a button inside the hovercraft. The interior lighting dimmed subtly as the vehicle shifted into defense mode. She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it aside, leaving herself in nothing but her tank top.

They were still snapping at each other even like this, breath hot and too close, words getting lost between collisions.

And yet, Curtis’s hand lifted on instinct, settling at the top of Eden’s head, palm hovering there protectively as if to keep her from bumping into the ceiling of the craft when she leaned in again.

It was the kind of look that silently asked, "What do I do?"

"Answer it."

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