AMANDA
The first thing I feel when I wake up is good. Better than good. There’s no ache in my bones, no tension coiled in my shoulders. My body is light, free, floating in a haze of golden morning light.
I blink, tilting my head, my lips curving before I even realize I’m smiling. He’s gorgeous like this—hair tousled, lips slightly parted, shadows casting over his sharp cheekbones.
Something flutters in my chest, a warmth curling low in my stomach.
I press my lips to his skin.
Soft at first. Then eager.
I don’t know why I feel so good this morning, but I do. I feel… light. Like everything is exactly as it should be.
My lips brush his jaw, his throat. He hums, half-asleep, shifting toward me. Encouraging. Welcoming.
I like when he sounds like that.
I want to hear more.
My leg slid
