Yaroslava's POV
“One more time and I'll die for sure,” I groaned aloud as I got out of bed on the third try.
Every muscle ached mercilessly, as if I'd just completed a long-distance sprint. But in fact, everything was limited to Jan's merciless desire for intimacy with me. And now the plane was about to land, and I just woke up.
Jan, dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, grinned at my statement. The werewolf was sitting on the couch, drinking tea. On the table beside him was a tray with scones and another porcelain cup. Judging by the smell, the tea was fruity and the scones were hot.
I wanted to make a snide remark to the
