Of course he had heard of Prince Stephen Pierre, but Foster had never made it his priority to get to know any of the others. He generally wasn’t a social individual, especially not given the events right before coming to Aina. The attitude he had when he first met Layla was even dimmed down from when he first arrived. In the first two weeks he had refused to even leave his room, let alone the castle. Still grieving over the loss of his love, his mood swings were nothing to sneeze at.
Foster smiled as he saw Layla getting drowsier by the minute. It wasn’t a creepy smile, but more of a caring, fond smile. He sipped at his tea as she drifted off. The sofa they were on was a comfy one, but it still paled in comparison to a bed. Foster was a mere two inches taller than her, but as a guardian he was in top physical shape, so lifting her was an easy feat for him. As Layla’s eyes closed he waited a bit before standing up and lifting her into his arms. He carried her to his room and placed her on his bed, covering her with a throw blanket so she wouldn’t get cold. After laying down next to her, about a foot or two away, he sighed as he began to feel drowsy himself.
It was never his intention to cross any lines, however tempted he may had been to be closer to her. Perhaps it was a mistake for him to choose to sleep next to her, in his bed no less, but Foster honestly just wanted her to sleep comfortably, and he didn’t want to leave her side. Being unable to trust the environment they were thrown into, he didn’t want to leave her alone especially in a foreign castle at night. Had someone else found a strange woman in his royals castle they might ask questions or point fingers, and he didn’t want that to happen to Layla.
However innocent his intentions had been at that moment didn’t hold through the night, unfortunately. In his sleep Foster had moved closer to Layla, until his chest was basically right up against her back, his body molding against hers. As if that was bad enough, he woke up to find that he had slipped his hand in her pants. Now, this was a common action he would perform with Viktor, nearly every night. But this wasn’t Viktor. It was as if muscle memory took over combined with habits that clearly hadn’t been broken. As soon as Foster realized the location of his hand, his heart began to beat incredulously, mostly from fear. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, the spike of adrenaline giving him a chill. He was absolutely terrified she would wake up and scream at him saying he was touching her inappropriately. Foster never meant to cross any lines, but he had. He hadn’t gone deep enough to feel anything, his hand was merely half way under her panties, but he knew what he was touching. And to make matters worse, he was hard.
Slowly and carefully, his hand lightly trembling, Foster pulled his hand out, the feeling of her soft skin dragging below his fingers magnified. His heart was beating so intensely he felt like he could hardly breathe. There was no way he could apologize for this. No way to explain what had just occurred. Gently brushing against her belly as he pulled his hand back, Foster closed his eyes and hoped she didn’t wake up. He was hard, and the feeling of her skin under his fingertips caused his member to pulse with excitement. Foster slowly turned over, feelings of shame and desire crawling over him. He wanted her.
