Morning seeped into the suite in slanted gold light, the kind that should have felt warm but didn’t. Jaxon sat at the edge of the bed, bare-chested, scrolling through messages on his phone. His expression was unreadable, that same mask of precision and control he always wore after letting someone see too much of him.
Raven stirred beside him, sheets tangled around her hips. Her muscles ached in the best way possible, but her chest… her chest ached worse. The night replayed in pieces, Jaxon submitting to her, the raw confession that he was afraid of losing her, the way his body trembled when he said her name, and now… silence.
“Stop staring,” Jaxon murmured without looking up.
“I wasn’t,” Raven lied.
“Yes, you were.” His tone was soft, but it still landed like an order. He put the phone
