Lyla lay still, her back to Thomas, her breath steady—but not truly at rest.
The weight of the bed shifted slightly as he turned beside her. She felt it. Her heart began to thrum.
Thomas hesitated, barely breathing. Then, with care, his hand drifted to her waist. The tips of his fingers brushed the thin silk of her nightgown, unsure.
Lyla didn’t flinch.
She didn’t pull away.
Instead… she moved closer. A small, timid movement.
Now there was no space between them. Her back pressed gently to his chest, while her butt pressed against something hard, something she wasn't really sure of.
She smelled of fresh rose petals and something softer. It filled his lungs, made his heart pound with a tenderness he hadn’t expected.
His breath slowed against her hair as he let his arm wrap around her
