“Deal,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
He pulls the blanket up around us, his arm draped overmy waist, fingers lazily tracing circles against my skin. The fire crackles nearby, the storm still whirling outside the windows like a soundtrack to our little world.
And as I drift off, tucked into him, heart full and body sore in the best way I realize something.
I haven’t felt this wanted in a long, long time.
12
I wake up in Sam’s arms, skin still warm, the air around us laced with the faint scent of sex, sweat, and firewood.
The hearth crackles softly nearby, casting a golden glow over the rumpled sheets. We're a tangle of limbs and heat, the sheet barely covering anything important, clinging to us like an afterthought.
Sam’s still wrapped around me. One arm tucked under my shoulders, the other curved low on my hips. His grip is loose, but there’s no mistaking the way he holds me, like I’m something precious. Like he’s not ready to let me go. Not even in sleep.
His heart beats steady under my ear, strong and calm, and every slow breath he exhales brushes the top of my head, stirring the loose strands of my hair.
Neither of us speaks.
We don’t have to.
My fingers trace slow, absent circles along the ridge of his ribs, just skin on skin. His thumb moves in lazy strokes up the curve of my back, beneath the sheet, sending tiny shivers across my spine.
It’s not about seduction anymore. Not exactly.
But there’s heat.
God, is there heat.
His touch drifts lower, the pad of his thumb dipping to trace the small of my back. My breath catches. It’s nothing overt. Just a subtle reminder that he could take it there again. That we’re still very much on the edge of something that hasn’t burned itself out.
And yet it’s comfort. It’s connection. It’s intimacy in its rawest form. I’ve never felt so safe in silence. Or so seen.
Eventually, he shifts, his muscles flexing just enough to draw me closer. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead, and I tilt my face up to look at him.
His eyes meet mine, still heavy with sleep, but unguarded in a way that makes my chest ache.
“You good?” he murmurs, voice rasping from everything we just did and everything we still haven’t.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my lips curving into a smile that feels like it’s blooming from somewhere deep inside me. “More than good.”
He brushes his nose along mine, slow and affectionate. “You sure? 'Cause I’m happy to prove it again.”
I laugh softly, dragging my fingers down his chest, over the hard lines of his abs. “I can feel you’re already halfway there.”
His breath hitches, and the grin that spreads across his face is all sleepy sin. “That’s what happens when you nap with a naked woman on top of you, darlin’.”
“Guess we better do something about that.”
His hand slides down, cupping my bare ass beneath the sheet. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous, “I really think we should.”
His hand curves tighter around my ass, and his eyesdarken as he shifts beneath me, like he’s already planning how he’s going to take me apart again.
“Thought you were tired,” I tease, my voice already unsteady as I feel him harden against me.
He hums, lazy and low. “Turns out, you make a hell of a wake-up call.”
Before I can come up with a clever response, he moves.
