Ariane:
When I woke again, the firelight outside the tent had burned itself down to little more than memory.
Inside, the world was still—breathing with the slow, rhythmic hush of sleep.
Seris’s arm lay around my waist, acting as my shield even in his dreams. His scent lingered on the blanket, on my skin, like dusk and devotion.
But the ache in me hadn't vanished. It had only quieted, lulled to silence by his warmth.
Now it stirred again.
While I had let myself relax, sleep fled me, as if I were playing a game of cat and mouse with the sandman himself.
I sighed, scooting closer to Seris.
In his sleep, he pushed closer, his c.o.c.k jabbed against me, hard, throbbing, aching against my a.s.s.
His breath ghosted across my neck, soft as a prayer. My body hummed beneath the hush, a so
