I wake up to the feeling of fingers brushing softly across my cheek—like a feather made of skin.
My lashes flutter open, and there he is. Lior, propped up on one elbow, that lazy morning smile pulling at his lips.
His touch is feather-light, like he’s memorizing the shape of me in sunlight.
“Morning, moonbeam,” he says, voice all husky and smooth from sleep.
"Are you going to give me nicknames every single day?" I giggle.
"Well, there are too many words to use to describe you, and gods forbid I stick to one."
I smile, that kind of smile that comes easy when you're feeling content in the moment.
I stretch under the covers, the movement stirring a dull ache between my thighs. My face heats immediately as I remember why I ache and how many times we went at it.
"I didn't think we'd h
