Lucas’s POV
I woke up to the quiet sound of her breathing.
Soft. Steady. Mine.
Avela was curled on her side, facing me, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other resting on my chest like she fell asleep claiming me. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow and over my arm, wild from everything I did to her last night. I could still feel the ghost of her nails down my back, the way she screamed my name until her voice cracked. I took her again and again on the bed, against the wall, on the floor until the fight was nothing but sweat and moans and her begging me not to stop.
I made damn sure the only thing on her mind when she finally passed out was me.
I stretched slowly, muscles sore in the best way, and pressed my lips to the warm curve of her bare shoulder. She didn’t stir. Good.
