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Phoenix’s arm is still around my waist, heavy and warm. He holds me tight. I don’t think he let go of me for a second during the night.

I snuggle closer to him with a soft sigh. He moves, and his grip around my waist tightens. He pulls me even closer, and I know even without turning to look that he’s just woken up.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his lips touching my neck. Hot shivers race down my spine.

Still in his arms, I turn around to face him. “Good morning.” His eyes are still half closed as he looks at me, and his smile is lazy and happy, which makes my heart beat faster.

“You’re still here,” he whispers, and I realize this is the first time we’ve woken up together. The first time the alarm clock hasn’t rung too early and we’re not in a rush because I have to get back to school. Not yet, at least.

“Yes, I am.” I smile.

“Can we do this more often?”

I pretend to consider his question while my heart screams yes. “I’ll see if I can arrange it.”

“That would be great.” He smiles, and he’s way too adorable, all sleepy with his messy hair falling over his forehead. I lift my hand and brush it back. My fingers catch in the tousled strands, but maybe that’s just an excuse for me to leave them there a little longer.

“Did you sleep well?” The tip of his nose brushes mine.

“Yes, you?”

“Me too.” My hand wanders from his forehead to his cheek, down his chin to his mouth, tracing the shape of it with my fingertips.

“Then everything is . . .” A hint of concern sneaks into his expression.

“Everything’s fine,” I say, finishing his sentence. My voice is trembling a little, but I’m being totally honest this time.

We talked a lot last night. Actually, we did nothing but talk. About Olivia and the future. About Isabel and her parents. About what’s ahead for us. About everything and nothing. At some point, we were both so tired that we couldn’t string a sentence together properly anymore.

“Do you have to go back to school?” Phoenix murmurs against my fingers, which are still resting against his mouth.

“Soon, but the alarm hasn’t gone off yet,” I whisper back, feeling a hot tingling in my stomach as we move closer to each other.

“Then . . . do you want to sleep a little longer?” There’s something challenging in his gaze.

“No, not really.” I slide one leg between his, moving it gently upward until I can feel his erection. He exhales sharply, and I have to smile.

“No?” I love how rough his voice sounds and how his hands wander back under the sweatshirt I didn’t take off yesterday. His fingers make feather-light circles on my back, and a longing whimper escapes from my lips.

“No.” I feel dizzy, I can’t think anymore.

“Then we’ll have to come up with something else to do with our time.” He draws my face closer to his, but he doesn’t kiss me.

“I guess we will,” I whisper. His pupils dilate so wide, they almost swallow his dark-brown irises, and I drown in his gaze. I see desire and devotion. Being looked at like that by him is the best feeling in the world.

“What a pity.” I feel his breath on my mouth, and I’m going to go crazy if he doesn’t kiss me and get me out of this sweatshirt. I’m much too warm. I get goose bumps when he slides his fingers from my neck to my back and then down to my waist, stomach, and hips. When he reaches the edge of my panties, he pauses. I think he’s doing this on purpose to torment me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. His fingers slowly trace my skin along the edge, leaving a trail of hot desire.

“Phoenix.” His name on my lips, a longing plea. My head is both empty and full of him.

“Tell me what you want, Ophelia,” he says hoarsely. If I could, I really would.

“I—” I fall silent as his fingers drift to the back of my leg.

“Yes?” He blinks at me, innocent and sly at the same time. God, I hate him a little. No, not really, but somehow I do, because every part of me is throbbing. Heat and moisture gather between my legs. I didn’t know it was possible to want him so badly. He’s making me insane. I want him closer, but one leg is still wedged between his.

“Say it, Ophelia,” he whispers, and I know what he wants to hear.

“I want—” My eyes flutter shut as he slides his hand between my legs from behind, toward the spot that burns with desire. “I want—” He moves, his lips pressing against my neck. I feel his tongue on my heated skin, and I moan, writhing, but he holds me exactly where he wants me.