For the first time in months, I don’t dream at all. I fell asleep in his arms, his body following the outline of mine. Not an inch of distance allowed. Fully dressed, filthy boots on, but it didn’t matter. We’re together. The curtains are shut, I don’t have a clue what time it is. What I do care about is the way my mate's face brightened with every minute I spent on top of him, ranting, raving, kissing, and caressing him. We were so close. So terrifyingly close to ruining everything. “I have your mark spitfire. Why, when you are in our bed, are you finding things to worry about?” arrives a gruff, yawning, bare-chested Ayr, gripping me even closer to him. Adjusting so I can face him, his blonde, rumpled hair falls about his cheekbones like a mane, eyes still shut. Unfortunately, I am still wearing that lethal corset, which has left my ribs in genuine pain. Everything smells of his warm whisky burr. Sipping glasses of it at Kallio never quite had the same aroma. The heat, the burn,
Last Updated : 2024-04-06 Read more