Priscilla’s Point of View
I wake slowly, still wrapped in the warmth of his arms. His steady breathing surrounds me, and I stay perfectly still, afraid that moving might shatter this fragile moment. His skin against mine is a sweet burn, a mark I don’t want to erase.
His lips brush my shoulder, then trail down to my stomach. A shiver runs through me, uncontrollable. My eyes open, and I meet his gaze. They shine with a hunger that devours me.
I notice the bulge forming in his pants—God, he’s hard again. “You woke up with quite an appetite,” I whisper, half amused, half unsettled.
He doesn’t answer right away. His finger presses against my lips, commanding silence. My heart races as his words follow, low and searing: “You’re perfect.”
I turn my eyes away, unable to hold that burning sta
